Face Book: A disturbing novel full of shocking twists

by Paul Johnson-Jovanovic

  ‘I shot him,’ he said, still pointing the gun at Ward’s prone body. ‘I can’t believe I just shot him.’

  Footsteps echoed along the side passage. Reinforcements arrived. One after another, they stepped through the hole in the glass. Weapons at the ready.

  Dawn was still holding Abbie. She whispered in her ear, ‘You’re safe now, sweetheart. These men will protect you.' Dawn stood up and said to Philip, ‘Put that gun down, before you shoot someone else.’

  He placed it gently on the settee.

  ‘Is everything ok, detective?’ one of the officers asked Dawn. ‘Anyone hurt?’

  She could feel blood trickling down her neck. Putting her fingers over the cut, she dabbed it with tissue from her pocket. ‘It’s just a nick,’ she said. ‘But it would have been a lot worse if a certain little hero hadn’t intervened.’ She winked at Abbie, who blushed.

  ‘And me,’ Philip said. ‘Let’s not forget about me.’

  ‘What happened here?’ the officer asked, eyeing the body in the hallway and the one on the living room floor. ‘Looks like there’s been a war.’‘

  Before Dawn could explain, Philip walked towards Ward, his brow furrowing. ‘I thought I recognized this guy, but couldn’t place the face. Now I do recognize him.’ He pointed at Ward. ‘This is the Facebook Killer! The guy that cut those women’s faces off. But what’s he doing here? Is there something you’ve neglected to tell me, Dawn?’

  ‘This is not the time to talk about this,’ she said. ‘He’s no longer a threat.’

  Philip thought things through for a moment, then Dawn saw a mental light bulb flicker in his eyes – ker-blink! ‘Our family was in danger from another psycho,’ he said, ‘and you didn’t think it prudent to tell me?’

  ‘We'll talk about this later,’ Dawn said.

  ‘He’s must’ave traced us through the phone directory,’ Philip concluded. It’s the only way.’ Yet again, the light bulb was flickering. Two and two being put together. ‘I told you we should be x-directory, didn’t I tell you? And now look what’s happened; we’ve got the most notorious serial killer in history dead on our living room floor. Why didn’t you tell me he was gunning for you?’

  ‘You know why we’re not x-directory,’ Dawn said. ‘How’s my sister supposed to find me if I’m not listed?’

  ‘She’s dead,’ Philip said. ‘We both know it.’

  ‘I can’t discuss this now,’ Dawn said. 'This is not the time.'

  ####

  ‘Whose idea was it to come across here?’ Chris said in a low voice. His trainers squelched in mud as he struggled to keep up with the other two. ‘Place is a fricking quagmire.’

  ‘Shut up,’ Derek said. ‘He’ll hear.’

  ‘Let’s advertise we’re coming, shall we,’ Jack said, pressing on.

  Up ahead, they saw a dark figure carrying something on his shoulder. Something heavy. Something that looked like it could be a body in a bag. The figure slipped sideways. Nearly went down.

  ‘Grrrr!’ he moaned, mumbling f-words to himself.

  The three allies continued their approach. They got within ten feet of their target before McCarthy noticed them. Yes, it was him, all right. Even in the darkness, Jack recognized him. McCarthy let the dead weight slide off his shoulder, down into the footings pit. Then he walked to the Warrior. Got a shovel. He went to go back to the pit, but stopped when he saw three men blocking his way.

  ‘You were the ones following me, weren’t you?’ McCarthy said, surprisingly composed. ‘Damn! I thought I’d lost you!’ He focused his attention on Jack. ‘How’d you hook up with these coons? Meet them at the Idiots’ Convention, did you?’

  Chris took a sharp intake of breath, whistling as he exhaled. ‘You know what,’ he said, ‘for someone who’s about to die, you’re a bit free with your verbals. You should be begging us for your life after what you’ve done.’

  ‘No chance,’ McCarthy said, snarling, beckoning them forwards. ‘Put your weapons down and take me on like men.’ He went to reach into his jacket …

  ‘Eh-eh!’ Derek said, brandishing his gun. ‘I wouldn’t do that if I was you. Keep your hands where I can see ‘em.’

  ‘Cowards!’ McCarthy said.

  He spat at Jack’s feet, so Jack said, ‘You’re a fine one to talk about cowardice. You and your buddies cut me up and left me to die. I don’t know how you dare!’

  ‘What have you just thrown in that pit?’ Chris asked McCarthy. ‘Or rather, who have you just thrown in there? Someone who couldn’t pay your protection money, I’m guessing?’

  ‘That’s for me to know,’ McCarthy replied, tapping the side of his nose. His fingers glinted in the dark. He focused his attention back on Jack. ‘You’d be better off dead, with what we did to you. Wear that hoodie all you like, it isn’t going to change how you look. Put a bag over your head, not a hoodie.’

  Jack lunged forwards with the knife, but his feet got stuck in mud. He went down on his hands and knees. Seizing his chance, McCarthy raised his shovel above his head. A maniacal grin spread across his face as he brought it down. If Derek and Chris hadn’t reacted so quick, wrestling him to the ground, Jack would have been badly hurt. Perhaps fatally.

  ‘Gerrrrofff me!’ McCarthy said, struggling to break free. ‘Gerrrrofffff me, you coons!’

  Derek put his gun to McCarthy’s forehead and said, ‘Go on, make some more noise. Like we need an excuse to put a bullet in you anyway.’

  ‘You fire that thing and it will make noise,’ McCarthy sneered. ‘You haven’t got it in you. Haven’t got the balls.’

  Getting up, Jack muscled Chris out of the way, then reached inside McCarthy’s jacket. He relieved him of his gun and car keys. Handed the gun to Derek. Jack put his knife to McCarthy’s throat, pressing hard enough to draw blood.

  ‘I’ve got the balls,’ Jack assured him. ‘Don’t doubt it. You’re going to answer some questions. No muss, no fuss. If for one second I think you’re bullshitting me, I’ll carve you up. Okay?’

  ‘Do … it!’ McCarthy said. So Jack did.

  He slashed deep and hard. Blood gushed over the blade as he withdrew it. McCarthy put his hand over the wound, blood oozing through his fingers. He looked up at Jack, eyes wide, filled with hatred.

  ‘Ready to talk now?’ Jack asked him.

  ‘No!’ McCarthy said, grimacing in pain. ‘Not even close!’

  But Jack could see that some of his resolve had wilted away, the determination gone from his voice.

  He held the blade up in front of McCarthy’s eyes. ‘Now,’ Jack said, ‘what shall I cut next? Your face? … Yes! I think I should return the favour and give you a monster make-over, don’t you think?’

  ‘Go for it!’ McCarthy said, but he was edging away. Up on his heels and palms like a crab.

  Jack grabbed him by the balls. Squeezed hard.

  ‘I’ve changed my mind,’ Jack said. ‘I’m going to relieve you of your jewels.’

  ‘Gerroffff me!’ McCarthy said, grimacing, his eyes crossing.

  Squeezing harder, Jack slashed at McCarthy’s crotch, opening up the fabric. More blood flowed.

  ‘Okay, okay!’ McCarthy said, his voice shrill, piercing. ‘Stop – I’ll talk!’

  ‘Excellent,’ Jack said. ‘Now we’re beginning to get somewhere. How many men are protecting Byron’s mansion?’

  ‘Two and a half,’ McCarthy dared to say.

  Putting the blade to McCarthy's crotch, Jack said, ‘How many?’

  ‘Three!’ he blurted.

  ‘Really?’ Chris said. ‘Is that all?’

  ‘Yes,’ McCarthy replied. ‘Now that me, Gerard and Quinn aren’t there.’

  ‘Who are Gerard and Quinn?’ Derek asked him.

  'His two running buddies,' Jack said. ‘What’s the code for the gate, Mr. McCarthy Gold Fingers?’

  ‘0255,’ he said.

  ‘Don’t lie to me,’ Jack threatened, moving the knife’s tip even closer to McCarthy's balls. ‘Don’t you dare lie
to me! We're going to tie you up in a minute and gag you. Then you're going in that pit and we're going to leave you there. If we have to come back 'cause you've been telling porkies … well, I think even you, with your limited intelligence, can figure out what'll happen then. There'll be no warnings. Not a word said. I'll just cut your ...’

  ‘0433!’ McCarthy blurted.

  Jack asked, 'Are you sure this time?'

  'Yes!' McCarthy said. 'I'm not bullshitting.'

  ‘I’ll remember the number,’ Derek said. ‘What about the cameras? Does anybody monitor those?’

  ‘Deville should be, but he’ll probably be asleep at this time of night,’ McCarthy said.

  Jack looked at Derek and Chris. ‘Is there anything else we need to know?’

  Derek shook his head. ‘Can’t think of anything.’

  ‘Good,’ McCarthy said. ‘You can get this blade away from my nads now, then.’

  ‘Away from your nads,’ Jack said, withdrawing the knife, then plunging it into McCarthy’s chest. ‘And into your black heart.’

  After a short silence, Chris said, 'I thought you were gonna tie him up.'

  'I lied,' Jack replied.

  He grabbed McCarthy's ankles. Beckoned Derek to help him.

  When Derek just stood there with his mouth open, looking shocked, Jack added, 'This is how it's got to be, pal. Them or us. No hesitation.'

  ‘Let’s get him in that pit,’ Derek said, snapping to.

  Together they struggled to lift and carry him.

  ‘He weighs a tonne,’ Jack moaned. ‘I know he’s big, but he must have lead in his boots or something.’

  They dumped him over the edge.

  Getting the shovel, Jack said, ‘There’s only one, so I’ll bury him.’ He grabbed it. Slid down into the pit before Derek or Chris could offer to do the honours. ‘You pair keep an eye out. Wait by the gate. This won’t take long because the ground’s like sludge.’

  ‘I wanna see who’s in the plastic sheeting,’ Chris said. ‘In the body bag.’

  ‘Probably nobody we know,’ Derek said. ‘But I’m curious, as well.’

  Trudging over to the body, Jack used his knife to cut the sheeting open. ‘Well, well, we’ve got two for the price of one,’ he said. ‘That’s saved us a job.’

  ‘Who is it?’ Chris asked. He circled the pit, trying to get a better look. ‘I can’t see from up here.’

  Jack used his mobile to illuminate the corpse’s pallid face.

  ‘Only one left, then,’ Derek said.

  Jack felt no sense of victory, no glee. Until the snake’s head was cut off he couldn’t afford such luxuries. Not for a second. Not if he wanted to stay alive.

  ‘I wonder what ginger Moe did to end up like that,’ Chris said.

  ‘Who cares,’ Jack said. ‘He’s dead, that’s all that counts. You pair go and watch the gate. I need to get these buried and we need to get out of here. What are you waiting for? Go on, scoot!’

  After they were gone, Jack set to work. He didn’t use the shovel, though. Not yet. He had something else to do first. The small matter of another two faces for his collection. Whilst cutting, he listened out. Kept glancing around. Didn’t want the others to see what he was doing. They wouldn’t understand. They’d freak out.

  Once Jack had relieved the two men of their faces and eyeballs, he cut a strip of plastic sheeting off. Used it to wrap them in. To avoid awkward questions (what’s in the sheeting, man?), he tucked his prize package inside his jacket, then laid both men face down.

  He was halfway through digging the hole when Derek returned to ask what was taking so long.

  ‘I’m doing this as quick as I can,’ Jack said, up to his ankles in muddy water.

  ‘There must be a way I can help.’

  ‘There isn’t. Just let me get on with this.’

  Derek disappeared into the darkness. Back towards the gate. When he returned, ten minutes later, Jack was depositing the last few loads onto the double-wide grave. He tossed the shovel up and away into the night.

  ‘Are they deep enough down?’ Derek asked.

  ‘I think so.’

  Jack went to him. He put his hand up and Derek helped him out.

  ‘When it’s filled in – hopefully soon – nobody will find them,’ Jack said.

  ‘We need to be gone.’

  'We'll just have to pull the gate to as we leave because the lock's been busted off.'

  They made for the Warrior and Jack plonked himself in the driver's seat before Derek could protest. On the way out, they picked up Chris, who sat in the back.

  ‘You know what,’ Jack said, ‘I could get used to driving this thing; it’s like a tank, but it glides along the road and you can’t feel a bump.’ He switched the Warrior up to fifth gear as they headed back towards the city.

  ‘After we’re done, maybe you should keep it,’ Chris suggested. ‘D’you think Nelson’s okay? Maybe we shouldn’t have left him. Maybe we should have brought him along.’

  ‘I’m sure he’s fine,’ Derek said, explaining to Jack who Nelson was, then putting the heater on. ‘He’s most likely wrecked our cupboard and he’ll be supremely pissed at us, but he’ll be fine.’

  ‘Should we nip home for a change of clothes first?’ Chris said. ‘Me and you are drenched, bro. And our new buddy here looks like he’s been bathing in mud. We could check on Nelson.’

  Jack spoke up before Derek could say anything: ‘We need to get the job done. Driving this thing around any longer than necessary wouldn’t be wise. Get in, do the twat, get out. Agreed?’

  ‘Agreed,’ Derek and Chris said.

  'I'll have to get my Astra tomorrow,' Jack said, speaking more to himself than anyone else.

  ####

  Collins had been driving ever since he’d fled the flat. He didn’t know where he was going, only that he needed to get away. As far away as possible. He attempted to convince himself that Henderson might not be dead, then decided it didn’t matter. Dead or not, Collins was in the shit. Up to his hairline in it. And then some. Wherever he went, Byron would find him. Wherever he hid, Byron would hunt him down. It was pointless running. Futile. May as well end it now. Get it over and done with.

  Pulling over, onto a grassy verge, Collins brought the BMW to a standstill. He picked his gun up off the dashboard. Put the barrel in his mouth, tasting coppery sulphur. His finger hovered over the trigger. Pushing down on it. Come on, you can do this, you can do this, you can do this … his chest rose and fell in quick, panicked breaths as he worked up the courage to press a little harder on the trigger. Just a little harder. Then he did.

  ####

  Deville wasn’t monitoring the cameras. But he wasn’t asleep, either. He, Rogers and McCall were smoking cigarettes on the back veranda. Each was equipped with a walkie-talkie. They were sheltering from the rain under a lean-to canopy, discussing what’d happened to Quinn.

  ‘That’s what you get if you let Byron down,’ Deville said. ‘I never fail him, so I don’t need to worry.’

  ‘He got off lightly,’ McCall said. ‘If I was The Boss, I’d have fed him to the pigs. Maybe our beloved leader is going soft in his old age. What do you pair think?’

  ‘Don’t let him hear you say that,’ Rogers warned. ‘He liked Quinn, which is why he made it quick. Not sure he likes you so much. Perhaps if you fuck up, he’ll feed you to the pigs. They’d have a good meal, chewing on your chubby arse.’

  ‘Shut up,’ McCall said, tossing a butt-end away and lighting another cigarette. ‘When will this shit weather end? It’s been lashing it down for hours.’

  ‘I still can’t believe what happened to Gerard,’ Deville said, shaking his head. ‘Who’d be crazy enough to do that? Who in their right mind could even contemplate doing something so sick?’

  ‘The Face Book Killer,’ Rogers said.

  McCall said, ‘But he’s into women, isn’t he?’

  ‘What are you doing out here?’ someone said. ‘Why aren’t you at your posts?’<
br />
  They turned. Saw Debbie standing by the door. She was wearing pink furry slippers and a matching nightgown, which was open just enough to show off her cleavage. Even at 2 a.m., she looked stunning. Not a hair out of place. She pouted as her gaze went from one man to the other, waiting for a response.

  ‘I … err, we were just having a quick smoke,’ Rogers stammered.

  ‘I can see that,’ Debbie said. ‘We discussed this last night, didn’t we? I know you all have limited intelligence, but surely you can remember what I told you.’

  ‘Only one of us should be on the veranda at a time,’ Deville said. ‘And someone should always be monitoring the cameras.’

  ‘Yesssss!’ Debbie hissed. ‘So why are you all here again?’

  Deville took a last drag on his cigarette. Tossed it away.

  ‘And what have I told you about littering the lawn with your cancer sticks!’ Debbie raged.

  Squeezing past her, Rogers and McCall went back inside.

  Deville disappeared, too. Didn’t want to end up like Quinn.

  ####

  Having parked the Warrior at the side of the mansion, Jack noted there was only one camera covering this area. It was pointing across the lawn, but could pivot around any second. Not a problem if they were in the vehicle, with its blacked-out windows. But it would be a problem if someone panned the camera around at the wrong moment. Which is why Derek got out and put a bullet in it.

  ‘Good job we took this,’ he said, holding up McCarthy’s silencer-fitted gun. ‘Knew it’d come in handy.’ He handed Jack his other gun. 'Here, you take this one; I don't need two.'

  ‘Cheers,’ Jack said, checking the safety was on, then sliding the piece down the front of his jeans. He hustled Derek and Chris towards the building. ‘Sooner we get inside, the better. Before those dogs come sniffing around here.’

  Reaching the door, Jack tried to open it. But it was locked. He examined the keys he’d taken from McCarthy and noticed what looked like an entry fob. There was a small panel near the door. Jack swiped the fob over the panel, then heard a click as the lock disengaged.