by J. D. Weston
Outside, thunder grumbled like a slumbering beast and he thought of Julios, drugged and benign. He surprised himself by not only hoping that Julios had gotten out, but that Donny had too. He wondered if that hope was borne of what John’s reaction would be or if there was a genuine concern for his foster-brother’s wellbeing. But his thoughts were overshadowed by what he imagined he would find beyond the strip curtains.
His curiosity was further teased by a loud click, which was immediately followed by the whir of an electric motor. The carousel jumped into life and each of the lambs swayed with the motion. Then it stopped, and a loud buzz filled the huge space. The carousel began again with a click and the carcasses danced in unison.
Click. Whir. Click. Buzz.
One by one, they disappeared through the curtains, releasing small clouds of frost into the warm, stormy air. But for each of those empty hooks that disappeared from view, another appeared on the far side, laden with the burden of some poor headless and trussed beast.
The rain dripped from Harvey’s wet skin onto the concrete floor and his boots oozed water with every slow and cautious step he took. He pulled back the strip curtain and bracing, cold air found his wet clothes, prickled his skin, and tightened his tired muscles. He had been on the move for an entire day and his body was telling him that the ordeal had taken its toll.
He pushed through into the cold space.
Click. Whir. Click. Buzz.
There was a network of beams and chains to move the carcasses that hung from the huge hooks. The row of cages along the wall were like small prison cells with a torturous view of the tiled space where animals were hung by their feet to be killed. It was the halal way of slaughtering an animal and had been, in one form or another, done that way for centuries. The animals were stunned to keep them subdued and to calm them. Then their jugulars were sliced, and the animals were left to bleed out. The meat was deemed permissible to eat by Islamic law.
At the end of the carousel, where the hooks turned on themselves to continue their endless cycle, was a tiled space with a hook on a chain that hung from a beam high above. But it wasn’t the hook or the chain that caught Harvey’s attention. Nor was it the flash of spark from the stun gun that was positioned to find the soft fleshy rumps as each lamb reached the end of the carousel.
It was Rashid Al Sheik. He stood there, fearless with privilege and arrogant with sanctimony.
Click. Whir. Click. Buzz.
“You’re on your own now, Rashid,” said Harvey, raising his voice above the monotonous thrum of the carousel. “There’s nobody left to save you.”
Rashid’s face twitched as he thought of Farhad.
“He didn’t die like a lion. I thought you’d like to know.” said Harvey, and he gestured at the laden hooks that passed by in a slow and tedious cycle. “Like a lamb to the slaughter, Rashid.”
“Who are you?”
Click. Whir. Click. Buzz.
“Where’s Harriet?”
Both questions went unanswered.
“In my country, halal meat is law,” said Rashid. “It is a kind method of killing the animal.”
“Where’s Harriet, Rashid?”
Click. Whir. Click. Buzz.
“Did you know that when an animal is killed in the halal way, we hide the blade until the very last moment, so the animal is not frightened?”
Harvey didn’t reply.
“We respect the animal.”
“Where’s Harriet?”
“We respect life.”
Rashid stood with his hands folded behind his back. He began to pace the tiled floor and listened to the rain on the roof high above.
“Harriet deserves respect. She deserves kindness.”
“But you, you are a savage. You are no killer of lions. You hide in the shadows.”
“I’m not hiding now,” said Harvey, and he stepped forward. In his right hand, he held his knife. The handle was sticky with Farhad’s blood. With every step he took, Rashid’s face grew clearer and that part of Harvey that knew no limits grew agitated.
“Who do you want? Me or the girl?”
“I came for the girl.”
“But you want me too?” Rashid smiled. “You can’t help yourself, can you? Maybe it’s the smell of blood in the air?”
Click. Whir. Click. Buzz.
Harvey moved forward again. His pace quickened, closing the distance with long strides.
It was Rashid’s laughter that slowed him. He stopped. And something beside him seemed out of symmetry with the surroundings. Among the pairs of trussed hooves on the far side of the carousel was a pair of human feet. They were still, pale, and rocked only with the movement of the carcasses on either side.
Harriet.
Harvey tried to run between the great chunks of meat, but the movement and their weight pushed him away.
“You coward,” Harvey shouted. “You couldn’t do it yourself, could you? There’s nobody left to do it for you.”
Click. Whir. Click. Buzz.
The stun gun would merely subdue a beast, but for a young girl, the bolt of electricity that passed through her body would be fatal.
“Leave her. It’s the kindest thing for her,” said Rashid, seeing Harvey fight his way through the already slaughtered beasts. His voice boomed in that terrible space. “It’s over for her now. Stop.”
Harvey searched the carousel to find her bare feet among the pairs of hooves, but as he turned, he saw movement. The huge hook that had hung beside Rashid was swinging towards him. It caught him in his chest, knocking him off his feet. He rolled and fought for breath, clutching his ribs.
The hook began its return swing and Harvey followed its course.
Rashid was gone.
Click. Whir. Click. Buzz.
He climbed to his feet and retrieved his knife just as the lights went out.
Guided only by the flash of sparks as the automated stun gun found its mark, Harvey felt his way along the line of carcasses. Their skin was cold and hard to the touch. He followed the line round by the slaughter station where Rashid had been standing. He felt every animal and every leg, feeling for the warm and hairless skin of Harriet’s legs.
Click. Whir. Click. Buzz.
And he found her.
He tried to raise her up and unhook her legs, but she was too heavy.
Click. Whir. Click. Buzz.
Blind to the world save for the intermittent shower of sparks and deafened by the rain on the roof and the thunder of blood in his ears, he reached down and held her in both arms, cradling her limp body. But the hook from which she hung was reaching the end of the line.
Click. Whir. Click. Buzz.
With everything he had left, he pulled her to his chest, moving with her and swaying with the carcasses as another passed through the deadly stun gun, and he sliced through the rope that bound her legs.
Click. Whir. Click. Buzz.
The animal before her swayed then stilled and the stun gun found its mark.
Click. Whir.
Harvey reached up to her feet with his bloodied knife in his hand and held her tight against his chest with the other.
Click.
He sliced and they fell together. He cradled her head and rolled to protect her.
Buzz.
A shower of sparks fell on them and Harvey held her face to his chest.
He held her there for a moment to regain his breath and as more beasts passed above them and more sparks fell, he found himself holding her head and stroking her hair. She was just a girl. A young, innocent girl. His fingers found the soft part of her neck and he felt the faint but steady beat of her pulse.
He held her in his arms and sat upright. Then he climbed to his feet and cradled her as if she were his own. He used the flash of light to find his way and he stumbled with her in his arms through the curtains of death. Outside, the rain hammered down and, in the distance, Farhad’s body was an island in a shimmering sea of rainwater.
Harvey walked and Harri
et hung limp and heavy in his tired arms. His body ached. His mind was racing. All he had to do was get her to a hospital and find Donny. He stepped outside into the rain and once more relished the cold, fresh feeling as the day washed his tired face.
She stirred.
It was just a little but enough for Harvey to know she was coming round. He laid her down on the sodden concrete and smoothed her hair from her face to reveal her young and perfect skin.
It was a side of death Harvey knew little about. His experiences had always brought him closer to the darker side where recovery and resuscitation were not the desired outcome.
He felt as if he should say something. Like he should be calling her name to bring her back. To let her know she was safe.
But he didn’t know what to say.
He held her hand.
But it was in that moment that two headlights shone, bright and cavalier. He turned to face the black Mercedes. The headlights lit the rain and the puddles, and steam rose from its bonnet. It was fifty metres away, parked in the darkest of corners.
The engine revved once, loud and raw.
Harvey rested the girl’s head on the ground, and he stood.
The engine revved once more, this time louder and for longer, as Rashid’s sandaled foot planted into the thick, lavish carpet.
And Harvey stepped forward, placing himself between the car and the girl.
Then the tyres spun on the wet ground. The gears crunched into place and the headlights rose as the car lurched forward.
Harvey bent and picked up Harriet from the ground. He held her in his arms, swearing to protect her, swearing that she would be okay.
Rashid found second gear and the car gained speed, closing the distance fast. Harvey prepared to absorb the impact. He cradled Harriet close to his body and raised her as high as he could.
He braced for the collision.
Then three gunshots rang out from nowhere.
The car swerved and Harvey felt the rush of air as it passed him with inches to spare and crashed into the abattoir. The front of the car crumpled with the metallic scream of twisted steel. A hiss of hot steam sprayed, and the horn blared as Rashid’s body slumped over the wheel.
Harvey dropped to his knees, still cradling Harriet in his arms. He let his head fall back and closed his eyes to savour the rain and the cool air.
He knew he was there. He felt his presence but heard no footsteps.
He opened his eyes.
Myers stood looking down at him. His face had softened, and though Harvey had never known his own parents, he knew the expression to be that of paternal love. Myers let the gun slip from his hand. And Harvey raised her up for him to take.
Two strong arms pulled Harvey to his feet. Two arms with such strength that they could belong to only one man.
Harvey didn’t turn to see him. Nor did he search for Donny, who he knew would be close by. He stared at Myers and studied the expression of relief on his face.
“I can’t thank you enough,” said Myers, his voice whispered so as not to disturb his little girl.
Harvey didn’t reply.
It was the convoy of flashing blue lights that streamed along the lane in the distance that killed the moment. But it was a moment Harvey would never forget. And he was sure that Myers too would remember it always.
“Go,” he said, and he looked up from his daughter’s face. “Go now. Be quick.”
“Someone has to pay for this,” said Harvey. “You know how it works.”
Myers nodded and offered one of those smiles that wasn’t a smile.
“Yes,” said Myers, and he turned his attention back to his daughter’s sleeping face. “Yes, they do.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
King George Hospital, Chadwell Heath, in the early hours of Sunday morning was a quiet place. Patients slept in the wings and nurses moved from room to room in practised near silence.
Two uniformed police officers were standing guard outside one particular recovery room. Inside, two parents sat either side of their daughter’s bed. The mother held her daughter’s hand. The father hung his head.
“You had no choice, Matthew,” whispered Alison, and he nodded. “Look what you did. You got our little girl back. You saved her.”
“I killed a man.”
Alison sighed and her eyes flicked to her daughter’s.
“You don’t have to hide it, Mum. I know what he did.” Her voice was cracked and slurred, like that of a sobering drunk, and her eyelids were lazy as sleep beckoned.
“You should sleep, Harriet.” Alison’s motherly tone was calm, quiet, and strong. “I’ll be here when you wake up. I’m not going anywhere.”
“What about Dad?” said Harriet.
Myers stared up at her. He offered a smile that wasn’t a smile at first, but when he saw her beautiful eyes staring back at him, it was.
“Anything you need, you just ask. I’ll make it happen.”
“I need you, Dad.”
“How’s your head?” said Myers, moving the subject on. Time was running out.
She gave him a disappointed look and reached for his hand.
“Do you know what I really want? What would really make me happy?” she asked.
Myers knew what she was going to say, and he had a good idea Alison knew it too. But there was no room to manoeuvre and no time to deflect it.
“I want us to be a family again.”
“Oh, Harriet-”
“I’m sorry, Mum. I love Darren. He’s a kind man, but…”
“We are a family,” said Myers, and he offered her his hand. She took it and he reached across to Alison who, after a moment of doubt, took it so that the three of them were united in a circle. “Nothing will ever break us. We’ll get over this. Your mum and I will always be your parents and we’ll always be with you.”
“Always?” she asked.
“As often as we can,” said Myers, and he squeezed their hands, savouring Alison’s touch. He knew those fingers so well and he was sure he could feel the indent where her wedding and engagement rings had been. He wondered if she wore them in secret, but then doubted the notion.
“Do you remember when you lost me?” said Harriet. She held their hands tight but stared ahead, recalling the time. She had been just a child, dizzied by fear, and she remembered the moment when she had seen their faces. “That’s how I feel now.”
“I think you’ll find that we remember that time better than you do,” said Alison. “One day you’ll understand, when you have children of your own. Do you agree, Matthew?”
He laughed once as a response and nodded. But it wasn’t a laugh. It was more of a breath with a smile that wasn’t really a smile. “I remember when you fell and hit your head and we had to bring you here. When you trapped your finger in the door jamb and your fingers swelled like big, fat sausages. When you choked in the swimming pool and I had to drag you out of the water. I remember all those moments, Harriet. We both do.”
“Will you remember this time like all those others?” she asked.
He would. He knew he would, and Alison would too. She wouldn’t be able to help but remember it. He imagined that Alison would take Harriet home when the nurses gave the all-clear, and she would put her to bed. And Myers wouldn’t be there. That would be a time he wouldn’t remember.
“No,” he said. “No, some times are meant to be forgotten.”
She nodded.
“Sir?” said Fox from where she was standing by the door. He’d been so engrossed in his own family that he’d forgotten she was there. “It’s time.”
Harriet’s hand tightened and Myers’ heart felt like it would split in two. But then Alison squeezed too, and she stared at him from across the bed.
He swallowed and fought to control his voice, and he stood. He let their hands slip from his and held them both in his gaze for a moment, capturing a memory that would see him through.
“I love you both so very much,” he said, and he leaned over to ki
ss Harriet on the cheek.
Then he felt Alison’s warmth sidle up beside him and they hugged as a family. A unit. Unbreakable. A loving family. Just as Harriet wanted.
“Dad, no,” cried Harriet, but Fox was professional. She moved fast and didn’t hesitate as she pushed the cuffs onto his wrists. At least she allowed him the dignity of hanging his jacket over his arms to hide the restraints. Alison was a picture of strength, but he knew that face like he knew his own. She was fighting back the tears.
He tried to say something but found no words. Instead, he just smiled at them. And this time, it was a smile. It was the smile he wore the day he married Alison and saw her face as she peeled back her veil. It was the smile he wore when the nurse handed Harriet to him as a new-born. It was the smile he saved for special occasions. He just didn’t know where he kept it.
He turned by the door to steal one more mental picture that nobody could take from him.
“I’ll be back before you know it,” he said, and Fox nudged him through the door.
The corridor was a blur. Knowing faces watched him pass and muttered to their friends. The automatic doors opened with a hiss and he stopped to breathe the fresh air one last time.
“Thank you, Fox,” he said. “Thank you for making this happen.”
“Come on, now, sir,” she said. “I had no part in this. Remember?”
There were two armed police standing beside a police van. There were no flashing lights. No drama. Just a police van escorting a man from the hospital. Allenby was there wearing her dark-blue skirt suit. She watched as Fox led him to the rear of the van and the officer stepped to one side.
“I’ll do what I can, Myers,” said Allenby. “If not for you, for your family.”
He nodded but said nothing.
“Six months to a year,” she said. “Parole in three to six months. I’ll to see it the judge has all the relevant facts.”
Again, he nodded and searched for the window of Harriet’s room before the rear doors were closed and locked and he was alone.
