Okay, I’ve left work a little later than expected, a glance at my watch tells me it’s almost midnight. Today is my first wedding anniversary and I’m sure my wife had a big romantic planned; candle lit dinner on the veranda, a glass of wine by the open fire, rose petals spread across the bed and I’ve ruined it by turning up après Minuit. Hopefully I’ll make it in time for the rose petals. I just need to hope my green Ford Escort gets me home safely.
*
It’s all going to be okay, it wasn’t my fault, he came out of nowhere. I need to get my story straight before
the police arrive.
“I was driving completely within the speed limit along, what I assumed, was an empty country road. I was on the way to London you see, doing a bit of business, seeing a couple of old friends. I had one beer before I left the bar but that’s all. The street wasn’t very well lit and this small green car cut right across me, without me even seeing it. The driver didn’t have his headlights on and as I hit him he spun off the road.” I imagined myself snivelling in front of the copper.
I should phone the police. I have no other choice. Although I’ve been in trouble with the law before, I’m not sure they’ll see this as an accident, but of course it was. I could phone Barney, he’ll know how to handle this. I’m sure he’ll be up at this hour; it’s only just past midnight.
“Barney, hey. It’s Freddy. Yeah actually I’m in a bit of trouble; I hit a car and killed the driver. Yeah it was an accident but you know how the police will view my previous jail time. I had one pint at a bar before I left, it’s a long journey remember. No I haven’t phoned them yet; I was hoping to avoid it and thought you could maybe help me with the body. I know it’s late but I’m only twenty minutes outside London. Thanks Barney, I owe you one.”
*
“Right, I reckon we just dump it somewhere quiet,
somewhere no-one will look for a body.”
That’s the thing about Barney; he was always so calm, even when faced with a mutilated body. I, on the other hand, am a shivering wreck (He even gave me his jacket to warm me up). The dead man’s phone rang while I waited for Barney to arrive and I was so nervous I almost answered it and confessed everything to “Carla’s Mobile.” I sorted myself out though and left it to ring, hoping whoever Carla is will think he’s still driving.
When Barney got here he immediately decided we needed to cut the body up, stuff the limbs in separate bags and then dump the bags and the torso in different places, perhaps a couple of miles apart. As for the head, Barney wants to keep it. I don’t question what Barney wants to do, he could be saving my life by doing this, so he can do what he likes.
“Okay, I’ll just grab my saw and we’ll get to work. You take the arms and I’ll get the legs. Then leave the head and torso to me and you can take the bags down to the bank of the Thames and dispose of them there. Deal?”
*
The gentle morning sun was illuminating the greenery around which me and Barney were working. It had taken since around one that morning to get all the limbs and the head off the body, as it is a lot more difficult to cut through muscle and bone than Hollywood makes it look. However, the legs and arms were all in black bin bags and the head was safely stored in Barney’s glove compartment. The torso was burning rapidly inside a garbage can off the side of the road. Luckily, the passers-by weren’t too inquisitive and didn’t hang around.
“Okay, I’m going to go home; my wife will be pretty worried. I’ll make sure she doesn’t see the head. The police will no doubt be on the scene pretty soon so I’d pack up and get going. You owe me one now Freddy. I’ll
see you soon.”
As much as I am grateful to Barney, I don’t think I will see him any time soon. I think I need to get away, perhaps not out the country, that’s a bit extreme, but perhaps stay in Newcastle for a while, or Manchester. The police will never find me. However, right now I have more pressing issues; three bags full of severed limbs (a leg caught fire with the torso so I guess that’s one less thing to worry about) and a wrecked green Ford Escort sitting at the side of the road, to be precise.
I still have some lighter fluid left over so I could burn the car. I’ll dump the arms in the river, or maybe I’ll leave them in the car and burn it with them inside. I have his wallet, I could just leave this stuff here, and I still have Barney’s jacket, I’ll leave that too and they’ll think it was him, and by that time I’ll be in Newcastle.
“Hello, police please. I think there has been an accident...”