No More Heroes-#1 Dystopian Thriller Heroes Series

by Roo I MacLeod

  I looked at Tommy. ‘The police?’

  The low deep hum of an organ chord reverberated throughout the church. Long brass pipes stretched to the top of the roof from the seating set up high behind our perch.

  ‘Yeah, but he obviously wasn’t the police. He wanted to know where you were living and who you hung out with. Me and Billy wanted to know what he had in the bloody bags. Billy kept poking and kicking at ‘em, but he didn’t want to talk to us about the bags. So that’s why we sent him to you. We thought you’d find out something. We almost came with him, but we heard the Scum had fireworks planned for the High Street.’

  The candles at the entrance flickered with the deep bass from the organ. Show time veered ever closer. The small door opened and the vicar looked out on his church.

  ‘Billy thought the bag hid a severed head.’

  ‘Why a severed head?’

  ‘Exactly what I said, you know. You don’t need two bags to carry a severed head.’

  ‘Yeah, but why are you talking about heads?’

  ‘Well, I reckoned Marvin was on the run after killing. Billy agreed with me. He looked desperate, haunted, you know? We didn’t know from what, but it was obvious he was in trouble. And trouble meant murder. We both agreed Marvin had killed.’

  ‘Marvin’s no killer,’ I said. ‘Marvin could no more kill than you or me.’

  ‘I have to disagree,’ Tommy said. ‘And Billy agreed with me. Billy reckoned the bag was too big for a head to be rolling about inside. He reckoned Marvin had chopped the whole body up and it was packed inside. You can fit a whole body in a bag, Billy reckoned. And we agreed the second bag had money in it. There’s no point killing and cutting up a body if money isn’t involved.’

  Tommy grabbed the vodka and drank a good long draft. He shuddered as he placed the bottle in the bible tray and clamped on his cheroot. ‘It was weird,’ he said. ‘Him in his suit and two massive bags and he come with a woman too. Who brings a woman to Blacky’s?’

  He huffed as he looked at me. ‘You wouldn’t bring Tilly there, would you?’

  ‘She wouldn’t come.’ But then she sat on the sofa watching Jackie give me a smack not two days back. ‘Well she might come, but I wouldn’t ask.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Tommy said. ‘You might know the girl?’

  ‘Linda?’ I said. A stupid answer as I couldn’t see Linda sitting on Blacky’s sofa. She’d be horrified at the state of the upholstery.

  ‘Who’s Linda?’

  ‘The girl I left behind when I ran from the army and she married Marvin. Do I need to write it down?’

  ‘This girl hung about in the shadows and we only noticed her coz Blacky’s dog got the hump and started growling. First off we thought the food ailed him coz we’d fed most of our dinner to him, but he hid behind the furnace and couldn’t stop shaking. He kept looking over at the old oak tree by the allotments.’

  A loud long creak sounded as the vicar appeared again at the door, allowing a hooded monk out to drape a dark purple cloth over the altar. The monk lumbered back across the carpeted floor and disappeared as the door closed with a loud click.

  ‘She was more a girl, really,’ Tommy continued. ‘Difficult to tell coz it was well dark, but she had a wolf with her. Billy reckoned it was just a big dog, but it had to be a wolf. It had a long gray coat with big yellow eyes. It was dark – I said that, didn’t I? But Blacky’s dog didn’t like it. Weird shit, don’t you think? I mean who walks about with a wolf?’

  ‘I know the girl,’ I said. ‘We’ve seen her sometimes sitting up on the slagheap like she’s keeping guard on the town. The wolf howls and gives Blacky’s hound the creeps. I’m sure he does it to wind up the dog.’

  I reached for the vodka, wiped the top and took a drink. The alcohol offered comfort to my frozen bones. ‘So it was you who sent Marvin my way?’ Tommy shrugged and reached for the bottle. ‘Why? What made you think I wanted to be found?’

  ‘The bag,’ Tommy said. ‘I thought you’d want to know what was in the bag. Billy was dead keen. I still don’t think it was big enough for a body, but maybe he cut it up and divided it between the two bags.’

  The doors to the church groaned and the organ moved up an octave to a mid-range lament. Daylight seeped in through the larger opening. Two men in black suits and wide-brimmed hats stood framed against the dull day. The tall man had shoulders taking up most of the doorway and towered over his squat bandy legged mate.

  ‘Jesus, Tommy, don’t look, but we got serious company. If that’s Marvin’s pallbearers, he’s going straight to hell.’

  Chapter Ten

  Don’t throw rocks in glass Churches

  I hunched my shoulders and pulled my coat tight to my body as the two men in big black hats stalked the pews. The taller man took a seat two rows forward of me and Tommy. The shorter, wider man waddled to the front and sat on the right side pew shuffling across the wooden seat so he could view the entire church. Their bodies set in stone, their hats placed on the seat. An aura hovered above our two mourners causing the hairs on my skin to rise and goose bumps to creep across my skin.

  ‘What are they doing here?’ I whispered.

  ‘Relatives?’ Tommy suckled at the bottle while chewing on his soggy cheroot with vodka cascading across his chin. I wrestled the bottle from his grip and clutched it to my side.

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘No way. They were in the square the night Marvin and I met.’

  ‘Did he have the bags?’

  ‘No, I mean yes. He had a bag with him.’

  Tommy nodded, tugging on his straw Stetson as he turned to face me. ‘So, Pilgrim.’ Again the deep voice travelled across gravel. ‘There is a missing bag.’

  ‘Well no; there’s two missing bags.’

  ‘Why two?’

  ‘I lost it.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe the Slotvaks took it.’

  ‘But he gave the bag to you? Billy will be pleased because he’s desperate to know what’s in the bags.’

  ‘I haven’t got the damn bag.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Jesus Tommy, keep your voice down, eh? We don’t want them two looking in our direction.’ Tommy nodded. ‘I left the bag in the square,’ I whispered. ‘Because the bag was heavy and I figured you might give me a hand. You were with me when I went back for the bag and found it missing. You saw me looking under the seat. I’m guessing the Slotvaks nicked the bag because they were sitting on the seat when I came back to get it.’

  ‘What about them?’ Tommy pointed at the two men. Ben slapped his hand and shook his head. ‘Did you look inside the bag? Billy’s dead keen to know what was in them.’

  ‘No. I didn’t care what was in the damn bag. My priority centered on getting me, Tilly and Harry out of the square without being blown up, shot or beaten by the Scarlet Scum.’

  ‘Who’s got it?’

  ‘I don’t know, Tommy. Maybe he took it back.’

  ‘Then it should be at the allotments.’

  ‘But it’s not, eh? Those two thugs up front were looking for it the night we found Marvin’s body and they left empty-handed. The bag could be anywhere.’

  A gang of street folk interrupted our thoughts. The bedraggled crew clattered into the church, an orchestration of whispers and random noises clashing against the slow deep notes of the organ. They pushed a shopping trolley with Marvin’s coffin on top. Billy Two Guns led the team.

  ‘Billy’s looking good,’ I whispered to Tommy.

  ‘How?’

  ‘It’s a new jacket, isn’t it and shoes, eh?

  ‘He looks like a clown.’

  Billy, with his crooked stick held high, led the crew from Blacky’s into the church. To a man, what they wore bordered on fine dressing. Creases ruled, but no iron coped with living rough. A month of dirt and grease combed with the chill in the air allowed them to style their hair to a respectable standard.

  Billy stopped at our pew, the trolley wobbling and freewheel
ing toward the dais.

  ‘Nice touch, the trolley,’ I said.

  ‘Yeah, no one wanted to carry the coffin,’ Billy said. ‘Pete talked of bearing the burden, but the vicar needed him backstage, so we found the trolley out back of Blacky’s and donkey helped get him to the church.’

  ‘Donkey’s outside in the street?’

  ‘We thought he’d be up for it as all he does all day is eat Blacky to the brink of poverty.’ He looked around and shuffled closer, his fingers picking at a dried piece of crap on my coat. ‘Pete was bitching about you earlier. You might have a problem with Pete. He reckons you did Marvin in, he does.’

  ‘Why?’

  A lady in black clinging to the arm of a soldier glided past Billy. ‘Ooh ah,’ he said and he flopped after the lady in black in his new large shoes without answering my question.

  ‘That’s Linda,’ I said.

  ‘She’s cute,’ Tommy replied.

  ‘She is. The last time I saw her she was putting her school uniform back on.’

  ‘Cool.’

  ‘Seriously cool, but she married Marvin, which wasn’t so cool, eh?’

  ‘No, but you got Tilly, so that’s cool.’

  My head nodded and I felt a smile on my face, but I didn’t figure Tommy’s statement to be true.

  Linda clutched the arm of a tall, well-built man. A severe soldier boy hair cut complimented the clipped moustache and army greens. His gait had a drunken roll, his right black boot heavy on the slate flooring. Linda wore a short black dress, with black stockings and flat black shoes. A large black bow sat on the back of her head.

  Her presence in the church pleased me. I remembered the girl I adored from two years back. Marvin and I had met earlier in the day. He wore a uniform and a buzz cut to his light hair. His shoulders bore the stripes of an officer without having faced a damn bullet. My old man offered me up as cannon fodder. Marvin showed me the engagement ring.

  ‘Do you think she’ll say yes?’

  ‘What? Fuck off Marvin. Like she’d ever marry you.’

  I ran to Linda’s hoping I’d dissuaded Marvin’s plan. Linda was my girl and no way would she accept a proposal from Marvin.

  She swung back and forth on the rope swing strung from a leafy tree at the bottom of her yard. Her dress billowed out as she soared toward me, her pigtails flung out wide, giggling at me peering up her dress.

  ‘Will you marry me?’ I asked. I should’ve dropped to a knee, but I was in a hurry.

  She laughed and shook her head. Back and forth, higher and higher she flew, her feet touching the leaves of the branches.

  ‘Why do you want to marry me?’ she asked.

  ‘I thought last night was special.’

  ‘It was all right. I wouldn’t say special.’

  ‘And because I’m going away for a while and I don’t know when I’ll be back.’

  ‘I don’t want to marry you, Ben.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because you’re going away. Perhaps you should ask me when you come back.’

  ‘So,’ Tommy said, nudging me back from my thoughts. ‘I’m guessing you wanted her to marry you?’

  I shrugged my shoulders, not wanting to talk about Linda with Tommy. He didn’t get the history.

  ‘The bird you been staring at,’ he said. ‘If you’re looking for your jaw, it’s fallen under the next pew.’

  The organ stopped the unending chords and played a turgid tune.

  ‘Funerals suck,’ Tommy said. He nudged me again and pointed at Billy by the front pew. ‘Do you think Billy’s shoes are stupidly large?’

  Billy stalked the front row, his thumbs stuck under his jacket talking a load of crap about the characters depicted on the massive stained glass window. He stumbled on two occasions.

  ‘Yeah, they look like clown’s shoes. So what?’

  Tommy smiled, happy I agreed little Billy Two Guns resembled a clown. ‘Where do you think he got the cash for the new jacket and the shoes? Billy’s never got any money.’

  ‘I don’t care.’ Family stuff bored me big time. So long as Billy kept his thieving hands out of my pockets, my interest in his wealth totaled nil. My attention centered on Linda, hoping she might stay back after the funeral for a drink. I wanted to learn why she married Marvin. I wanted dirt on Marvin and to laugh with Linda at her side of the story.

  ‘Listen Ben, you probably should talk with Pete.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘My brother with his new shoes and flashy jacket is right. He’s telling everyone you killed Marvin.’

  ‘No one listens to Pete. He’s a child and he likes people to pay him attention. He’s just repeating what the Feral man said. Give up on him. He’s not here, anyway.’

  Linda swiveled in her seat, her light blue eyes meeting my gaze and she smiled. I returned her greeting, our eyes holding before her chaperone nudged her and pointed at the coffin. She covered her mouth, but I heard the full bark of laughter and smiled. I liked her uncontrollable cackle.

  ‘Did you see the way she looked at me?’

  ‘Who?’

  I pointed to the girl. ‘Linda, the bird sitting up front. Marvin’s missus. Fuck it, Tommy she smiled at me. After all this time she remembers me. You must’ve seen her smile? Do you think she’ll hang back and have a drink?’

  Tommy’s attention centered on his brother and he wore a right sour expression. I sat back in my pew, picked up the hymnal and found the page for the first tune, remembering a girl in pigtails and short sports uniform. I hoped she wanted to talk, wanted to meet and spend time in my company.

  The vicar emerged from the left with Pete following in his wake. Pete wore a hooded monk’s gown and carried a big old book. He placed the book on the podium and we stood to sing the first hymn, the lads up front out of tune but vocal. The vicar talked of a man I never met. He related bawdy tales about his war years and tender anecdotes on his love for Linda. He spoke with tact and passion. We sang more songs before the vicar asked if anyone present cared to share sentiments to the deceased.

  No one wanted to talk. Linda and I qualified, but he shit on my life and she’d kicked him onto the streets. Our words could only dampen the high spirit the vicar inspired.

  ‘Bit embarrassing,’ Tommy said, leaning in close.

  ‘Look at the mourners,’ I replied. ‘An ex-wife and a load of street folk who think there might be a wake and buckets of booze to follow. Where are the soldiers? He spent two years serving the Man.’

  ‘Say something,’ Tommy said. He pointed with his cheroot, drool dripping from its masticated end. ‘Make up shit, you know, about his life, but no one deserves to be buried with only the vicar’s words.’

  I shook my head, my focus centered on the two chaps in black, hoping they might offer words relevant to Marvin’s existence. A comic vision involved the men jumping from their seats and running to the pulpit, fighting over the microphone to gush fond memories and their love for the deceased. As they hadn’t stood for the tunes or hung their heads in prayer, I accepted sharing Marvin’s life with the congregation wasn’t a priority.

  Linda remained stoic in her seat. Her attention concentrated on the vicar. Her chaperone sat watching the man in black sitting amongst the lads who’d delivered the coffin.

  Tommy nudged me hard in the ribs. ‘Say something.’

  An awkward silence grew ever louder as the vicar stood with his hands held out, waiting for a volunteer. I wasn’t his man. My thoughts centered on his betrayal and no one wanted to hear me bitch and whine.

  But the silence unnerved me. I stood, but Pete stepped from his chair behind the vicar, pushed his hood from his head and walked to the podium. The vicar moved away and smiled as Pete placed two large pudgy hands on the wooden lectern and looked out into the congregation.

  I feared what Pete might share, but felt relief knowing I didn’t have to talk. Pete spoke in a grave loud tone, his gaze focused on my frozen stance.

  ‘Marvin was my friend and someone kil
led him,’ Pete said.

  His hands gripped the lectern. He leaned out into the church, reaching for my heart.

  ‘The Vicar says it’s wrong to kill.’ He nodded to this statement. ‘Sometimes it can be an accident though, can’t it?’ He looked at the vicar. The vicar gave a slight nod of encouragement. Pete turned back to the congregation. ‘But if it was an accident, then you just got to put your hand up and say sorry.’ Again he looked at the vicar and received a half-smile. ‘We know who killed Marvin. And the vicar says I should tell. He sits here among us.’

  Everyone sat up straighter. The two men in black placed their black hats on their heads. They turned to the congregation, scrutinizing each body in the church, waiting for the killer to stand and ask to be forgiven or run from the accusation.

  A hymnal thumped on the floor and a door slammed shut, the loud metallic sound of a bolt sliding into place echoed. Two figures in blue stepped forward and a photographer cleared a path with the camera flashing at Pete’s image.

  Pete paused for a moment his gaze holding mine. I shook my head pleading with him to opt for silence. My hands gripped the back of the pew, taking the hit full in the face.

  ‘Tall like Ben. A man I thought I could call my friend.’

  His finger rose until it pointed straight at me.

  Chapter Eleven

  Murder in the pulpit

  The two coppers stood aside so the photographer could snap Pete’s pudgy finger threatening my life. Tommy nudged me. ‘I told you to talk to him.’

  ‘Fuck you. And him.’

  I stepped out of the narrow galley and tripped on the standing leg of the pew. A nervous laugh erupted, but rage boiled in my chest.

  ‘It’s just Pete,’ Tommy said. ‘No one’s going to believe Pete, you know.’