The Savages (20 page)

‘So, what's Titus going to do?' he asked, as if addressing those left in the kitchen after Ivan had walked out. ‘Force feed her pork pies?'

‘
I'm sorry you had to be involved
,' he heard Angelica say, presumably addressing the old man, Oleg. ‘
I was hoping Sasha would get it out of her system. It seems I was wrong
.'

‘
Don't blame yourself
,' replied Oleg. ‘
It's Ivan we should be concerned about
.'

‘
He's going to tell Dad
,' said Sasha. ‘
I might as well pack my bags right now
.'

‘
Let's not overreact
,' said Angelica. ‘
So long as he doesn't think the whole family is in on this, he's less likely to explode
.'

‘
Cheese! Cheese!
'

Vernon listened to the speaker crackle and pop for several seconds, which marked the abrupt silence that followed Katya's contribution. Yet again, the private investigator was left baffled as to why someone's dietary choice should be the cause of such high drama. As Angelica, Sasha and Oleg went on to discuss the best way to break the news to Titus that his firstborn had forgone meat, Vernon sat back in his seat, closed his eyes and sought to work out just what it was that none of them would put into words.

Titus Savage was not unhappy to find himself caught on a tube in the rush hour. He was a tall man, which allowed him to stand head and shoulders over everyone else. It also meant that he could pick off a passenger and assess their quality at close quarters.

On this occasion, as he headed home from the office, Titus loomed over a lean, middle-aged man with a grey crop and matching stubble. The guy was a distance runner, Titus decided, judging by the tanned face and lack of much fat around the midriff. Still, at that age you couldn't help but timber up. A little padding on lean meat was the perfect combination.

Ultimately, it stopped a cut from drying out in the pan.

It was a short walk home from the station. With some heat and light still left in the day, Titus swung his jacket over his shoulder and wondered what might be for supper. They hadn't eaten pork in quite a while. As both Ivan and Sasha appreciated a little kick to their meat, he hoped that Angelica would agree that a Thai was in order. Approaching his house, Titus decided that even if it meant he had to pop out to the superstore for a few ingredients, it would be worth the effort. Nothing compared to a feast, of course, but as a midweek meal it would be something they could enjoy as a family. What Titus didn't expect, on passing a rundown van, was to hear the voices of his wife and daughter discussing the contents of the cupboard. He slowed to a halt, just behind the driver's door, and realised that it was coming from a speaker inside the vehicle. He didn't stop to listen in. Instead, he walked on casually, switching his jacket from one shoulder to the next before finding his front door keys.

Ivan Savage had been waiting for his father to return home. As soon as he heard the door open, he raced to the bottom of the stairs.

‘Dad, there's something you need to know!'

In response, Titus raised his palm and then signalled with a finger to the lips for his son to shut the hell up. Next he found his phone and quickly dashed out a message with his thumbs. As soon as he had finished, Titus showed Ivan the screen.

Our house is under surveillance. Let me do the talking.

‘But it's important,' Ivan pleaded, only to fall quiet when his father glowered at him, and then follow sulkily in his footsteps as he hurried into the kitchen. There, Titus showed Angelica and Sasha the screen. Both looked up at him smartly, while Titus did his level best to signal that they should talk as normal. He then crouched before Oleg, whose eyesight wasn't what it once was, and whispered in his ear.

‘So,' Angelica began hesitantly. ‘How has your day been?'

‘Oh, you know,' said Titus, who began to scour the kitchen for the listening device. ‘The same as ever. Nothing much to report.' He paused to run his fingers under the cupboards. ‘How did you get on with the agency?'

Angelica took a moment to compose herself.

‘They're as shaken up by the tragedy as all of us,' she said. ‘How sad to think that poor woman was in our house all day. If only we'd known what despair she was in, we might've been able to help her.'

Sasha looked from her mother to her father, who continued to scour the kitchen.

‘If only,' she echoed, simply to fill the silence, before glowering at her brother.

‘Anyway,' said Angelica, keen to move off the subject before someone spoke out of turn. ‘The agency has booked the house for another shoot. We'll have to make ourselves scarce in a few weeks from now.'

Titus rolled his eyes, and continued to sweep the room in search of the listening device. Ivan watched him run his hands around the rim of the French windows. It was then his sister crossed over to the cupboard alcove beside him. She did so with a purpose, as if something had sprung to mind that told Sasha exactly where she would find it. Titus stopped in his tracks and watched as she opened the little door. The space contained the gas meter. Sasha inspected it closely, looking underneath it and then at each side in turn. Finally, she stepped away, grinning victoriously at her family. Titus took one look for himself and headed directly for the knife drawer.

‘I'll be back in a minute,' he said, and selected his favourite carving knife. ‘There's something I need to grab for supper.'

Ivan looked delighted as his father marched from the kitchen. He followed close behind, despite Angelica's hushed instruction to stay put. Titus wrenched open the front door. The light from outside immediately cast him in silhouette from behind, but for the glint of the blade in his grasp.

‘Do it, Dad!' cried Ivan, who wasn't quite sure what he intended, but found himself completely caught up in the moment. In the street, he heard an engine gun into life. Titus rushed for the road, with his son close behind. Ivan just caught sight of the van's driver as he struggled to find first gear. The guy faced his father looking surprised and a little bit scared. Ivan just stopped in his tracks and pointed at the vehicle as it finally sped away

‘It's him again,' he declared. ‘He wants me.'

Titus turned to face his son. He looked different to Ivan just then. It was as if inner thunderclouds had gathered behind his eyes, which narrowed when he asked the boy to explain himself. As he did so, Angelica, Sasha and even Oleg had arrived at the front door. Angelica held Katya in her arms, but her attention was focused on Titus.

‘Come inside with the carving knife,' she said calmly, and looked around to be sure that the neighbours weren't watching.

Titus switched his attention to Sasha.

‘How did you know to look at the gas meter?' he asked.

‘I remembered a man came to read it,' she told him. ‘He said that Kat was cute.'

‘
Cheese!
'

Ivan was alone in taking great delight in the toddler's sudden outburst. Titus looked pained, for a very different reason than Sasha, his wife and grandfather.

‘It seems Katya really is finding her voice,' he said slowly.

‘Goodness knows where she got that from,' said Angelica, whose smile for the child in her arms looked a little forced to Ivan. ‘Cheese and ham, darling. Say
ham
.'

Holding the carving knife loose against his leg, Titus made his way back to the house.

‘I believe this means it's time we welcomed Katya into the family way,' he said, stopping to pet the little girl. ‘Now that her teeth are through and she's talking, she needs to know her roots. It'll help her to recognise that we Savages stick together no matter what life throws at us.'

‘A feast,' said Oleg, who clearly relished the word, much to Sasha's discomfort.

Titus seemed not to notice. Instead, he drew his only son to his side, glanced down the road to be sure the van had gone, and then clapped him on the shoulder.

‘You'll always be safe in my care,' he said, before addressing his whole family. ‘And I think we all know who should be on the menu.'

Amanda Dias had been privately amused when Jack bailed from the pizza restaurant. Whatever the kid at the window wanted, it was obvious to her that he was calling all the shots. Jack hadn't even offered an excuse. He'd simply rushed back for his coat, and left her with a series of half-finished apologies and a plea to catch up again very soon. Fortunately, he had told Amanda that he was a regular at the restaurant, given its impeccable vegetarian credentials. Sure enough, after she had finished her pizza, as well as what was left on his plate, the waiter assured her that Jack would settle the bill later.

He was a little young for Amanda, but then she had no time for boyfriends at this moment in her life. There was a cause out there that needed her leadership. So many of her so-called friends had walked away as her views began to harden, but nothing could shake her belief that eating any animal product was fundamentally wrong and punishable. Jack was certainly attractive for his age, but Amanda was more interested in his potent mix of narcissism and enthusiasm for her crusade. As a result, she wasn't flattered but intrigued when he approached her for lunch. Could this be the opportunity, she had thought to herself, to put her militant views into practice? It was something Amanda reflected on afterwards as she stopped by the market to shop for provisions. For too long, defenceless animals had been abused or slaughtered by man and served up on a plate. Cows, pigs, sheep and poultry were sentenced to appease our appetite through no fault of their own. Even the oceans provided no safe haven. In Amanda's view, it left people like her with no choice but to wage war on the predators. Unlike any other species on this planet, humans possessed the intelligence to make choices about what they ate. Food had to come with a conscience, she believed, and if people wouldn't listen they would have to pay the price.

Naturally, Amanda wasn't stupid. She had no intention of actually taking a life. That was down to the foot soldiers. Those who possessed the will, perhaps, but required a little guidance and encouragement to fulfil their true calling. Jack Greenway struck her as an impressionable young man with potential. Clearly, he had designs on sleeping with her, but that was also something she could use to her advantage. Amanda smiled to herself as she pondered her plan on the bus journey back to the university campus. She was well aware that grooming him would require a promise of quite a reward, and then decided on arriving outside her hall of residence that it had to be worth the investment.

This was largely down to the fact that Jack Greenway was waiting for her at the main doors. Standing beside his hybrid, he looked restless, wired, and a little nervous, all of which seemed to melt away when Amanda beamed at him.

Sometimes, Vernon English was thankful that he lived alone. His marriage had crashed long ago, but at least he was free to transform the lounge in his flat into an incident room without being made to take down all the photographs and notes he'd taped to the wall. This wasn't something he'd done before, but the Savage case was beginning to consume him.

‘What am I missing?' he asked himself, sitting back on his sofa with his feet on the coffee table. The wall opposite was plastered with long-range snaps of the family, including Oleg and Jack Greenway, as well as magazine adverts featuring Lulabelle Hart. He'd pencilled arrows between some pictures, and on others added colour-coded cards with his thoughts on them. Most made sense at the time. Looking at it all now, the private investigator could be sure of only one thing: he'd need a professional decorator to restore the room once he'd cracked this case.

Leaning forward, with his eyes locked on the wall, Vernon reached for the burrito in the box on the table. It had been cold for some time, but even though he'd been distracted he wasn't going to give up on it. Chewing on his takeaway supper, the private investigator focused his attention on the section of the wall devoted to Titus Savage. The man was behind the death of the model, and he would not rest until he'd uncovered evidence to prove it.

At the same time, Vernon could not ignore the fact that he was a little jealous. Titus was a success in the City, where being ruthless was basically a virtue, while at home he showed a different side entirely and his family clearly adored him for it.

‘Some people have it all,' he muttered, and eased himself to his feet. ‘Others make do with the leftovers.'

Taking himself to the window overlooking the pound shop on the high street with the sale on, Vernon pressed his forehead to the glass and sighed. He kept a handful of pictures in simple wooden frames on the ledge in front of him. All of them were taken during his marriage, from the honeymoon to the last Christmas they'd spent together. In each one, the face of his ex-wife had been carefully obliterated with marker pen. As far as he was concerned, she no longer existed. Even so, he wasn't prepared to deny himself the fact that he had once shared his life with someone special. He picked up one of the frames and studied it. Had things worked out between them, he too could've been a loving father. Whatever Titus hid from the world, Vernon English could only begrudgingly admire his commitment in building a family and keeping it together.

‘What is your secret?' Replacing the picture on the ledge, Vernon returned his attention to the wall. His eyes darted from one image to another, following pencil trails and then imagining fresh alternatives. Yet again, it just looked like a tangled mess. Vernon turned away, his thoughts switching to the possibility that there might be some hot sauce in the kitchen cupboard, and then came around full circle. ‘There it is,' he said, and took a step back to gain some perspective. This time, he didn't focus on individual surveillance shots or his scribbled hunches. He just stared at the little gap at the very heart of it all. All of a sudden, it looked like the eye of the storm. Vernon grabbed a pen from the top of the TV and scribbled one word in the space. He underlined it with a slash before standing back once again. Everything he had discovered about the family was tied to it in some way. What he'd missed until now was that it had to include the death of Lulabelle Hart.