Callum squinted, forcing the image out of focus, letting it... There. OK, those were the eye sockets, there were the cheekbones, difficult to pick them out from the leg bones, but not impossible. That made those the nasal cavities, and they would be the teeth.
Oh.
He sank into the office chair. Of course: it was obvious now. The hard white blobs in the mouth.
Yup. Lucy grinned at him, eyebrows way up her forehead. Im no expert on ancient Egyptian burial rituals, but Im pretty sure Tutankhamun didnt go to his grave with a mouth full of NHS fillings.
15
Are you actually hiding in here? Franklin stood in the doorway, holding the door to the disabled toilets open with her foot.
Callum gave her a grunt, then went back to the sink. Stuck a folded paper towel against the open neck of the disinfectant bottle and upended the thing till it soaked into the off-grey paper. Im not hiding, Im busy. He dabbed the damp tissue against the wallet, blotting away a stain.
Mothers here.
Course she is. More blotting. The stuff was working even better than Lucy had promised. OK, so his dads wallet would never look new again, but at least it didnt stink like the inside of whatever bin Willow Brown had fished it out of.
Callum?
It was covered in cigarette ash and something Im hoping was mayonnaise.
Shes told Dr Jenkins she wants both mummies post-mortemed ASAP. Our bath bodys gone back into the fridge till theyre done. Hes starting the first one in fifteen minutes.
Good for you. Callum dumped the paper towel in the bin and moistened another with disinfectant.
Well? Arent you coming? Thought you were SIO?
Whats the point? He opened the wallet and started on the inside surfaces. Wiping the square of clear plastic covering the faded photo that took up the whole left-hand side: a happy family, all four of them grinning away at the camera, those bright summer colours faded to autumn tones of brown, orange, and yellow. Not quite in focus. Posed around a picnic table, blue sky, sea, and white sand just visible behind them.
So youre sulking?
Like you can talk. He dabbed away at the other side. Theyre never going to let me be Senior Investigating Officer for a triple murder. A detective constable running down a serial killer? No chance.
Franklin shook her head. Youve been inhaling too much of that disinfectant, theres only two murders, not
The mummies have been smoked. Thats probably to dehydrate and preserve them. And what do you do before you smoke something? You salt it to draw out excess moisture. You brine it. He wiped off a crusty smear of red that looked more like tomato ketchup than blood. And what did we find floating in a bathtub full of brine?
When he looked up, Franklin was standing there with her mouth hanging open.
One last go with the soggy paper towel. Exactly. He wiped the wallet dry with a fresh sheet, then dug into his pocket for the cash hed begged out of the building society yesterday. Slipped it into the slit where the lining was hanging out. Our victim was a work in progress.
Sodding hell.
And God knows how many more bodies hes got out there. The plastic window was cool beneath his fingertips, its surface scratched in a few places, enough to blot out small sections of the photo beneath. All four of them, just out of focus, smiling their last recorded smile together. Mothers going to have her work cut out holding onto the case, never mind me. Theyll fly in an MIT from Strathclyde and well be back where we started low-level drug dealers, loan sharks, and pimps.
Franklin peered over his shoulder. Whose are the ugly kids?
Cheeky sod.
He pointed. Thats my brother Alastair and me. Two little boys with matching haircuts and freckles. We were five. Mum and Dad at the back. Mum with her long pale-blonde hair and heart-shaped face, kind blue eyes. Dad with his dark curly mop-top, dimpled chin, and big broad smile. The whole family was dressed for the beach in shorts and flip-flops. T-shirts with cartoon animals on them. A fox for Alastair, an owl for Callum, a cat for Mum, a dog for Dad. Sunburn for everyone. Two weeks on a caravan site just outside Lossiemouth.
Franklin gave a low whistle. Youve got an identical twin?
All those years ago...
Callum
Da-ad, hes touching me again!
Dad just sighed and turned the radio up, singing along with Mum. Both of them belting it out at the top of their voices as countryside slipped by the car windows. Green fields beneath a dark-grey hat of clouds.
Sitting in the back seat, Alastair grinned his gap-toothed grin. Then reached across and poked Callum again.
Rotten little bumhead.
Da-ad!
Dad didnt look around. If you two dont cut it out, Im going to pull this car over. That what you want? You want me to pull over? Because you know whatll happen if you make me do that.
Da-ad!
Dad didnt look around. If you two dont cut it out, Im going to pull this car over. That what you want? You want me to pull over? Because you know whatll happen if you make me do that.
Alastair stuck his tongue out. His shaggy bowl-shaped haircut was paler than usual, more freckles on his nose and cheeks. A cartoon fox on his brown T-shirt. Tartan shorts and grass-stained knees. Bare feet all sparkly with sand, just like Callums.
The song on the radio finished, Mum joining in right to the very end. She put her hand on Dads leg. I love that one.
The man on the radio sounded like hed eaten a whole nest of bees. An oldie, but a goodie Jimmy Perez and the Mareel Boys, with their breakthrough hit, Mothcatcher Blues. For an extra five bonus points, name the year that topped the charts.
Mum snorted. Easy: 1986. Give us a hard one, Scotty.
Da-ad? Callum leaned forward and tapped him on the shoulder.
And dont forget weve got and Im mega excited about this the one, the only, the Krankies! Theyll be here in fifteen minutes to tell us all about Mondays heee-larious episode of K.T.V. Itll be fan-dabi-dozi!
What did I tell you, Cal?
Im Scott Kennedy and youre listening to the Golden Oldies Quiztime Special on Castlewave FM...
No, but I need to go wee-wee. I really do.
Now then, my little Quiztronaughts, who was the lead singer on this hit from two years ago? Its the Bangles, and Eternal Flame. Some sort of horrible old-people music jingled out of the radio weird pings and things, with a woman being all soft and soppy over the top.
Were half an hour from home, so youll have to tie a knot in it.
But, Da-ad, Im bursting.
Mum shook her head, setting her pale-yellow hair swinging. Told you it was a mistake to buy him that tin of Fanta. It goes right through
Dont start.
Im just saying. She pointed through the windscreen at a lumpy blocky building at the side of the road. Look, theres a public toilet. Stop.
Im not stopping.
Fine. Well, you keep on driving, David MacGregor, and when Callum wees himself, you can clean it up.
The lady on the radio sang about easing the pain. Which wouldve been nice, because right now there was a big balloon of pee swelling up in Callums insides, sending stabby twinges all through his tummy right down to the end of his willy. Please, Dad?
All right! Dad thumped his hand on the steering wheel. All right, Ill stop. You happy now?
David, please, for once can we not
No. Thats perfect. Im stopping. The car pulled into the lay-by, bumping and rolling along the holey road, caravan lurching away behind it. There.
Mum didnt sing along with the lady on the radio: she just sat there, in the passenger seat, with her arms folded, staring out of the window.
Dads voice was stretched and twangy, the way it went before someone got spanked for being naughty: Alastair, do you need a wee too?
No, Dad.
Callum?
Im sorry, Daddy.
Get out, Callum.
He scrabbled with his seatbelt, pulled on his flip-flops, and pushed the door open. Hopped down onto the car parks holey surface.
The toilets were a low grey rectangle, sitting in front of a line of trees. Filth streaked the walls and the guttering sagged in the middle. Someone had sprayed TORY SCUM OUT! across the Ladies. There werent any outside doors, instead a bit of wall was missing at both ends of the building, open and gaping. A cave, full of shadows and horrible smells.
Up above, the sky was dark as an angry cat.
Mum nudged Dad. Dont just sit there go with him.
Hes not a baby, Nicola. If he wants to go to the toilet hes damn well big enough to go on his own.
Callum wiped his damp palms on the legs of his shorts.
Maybe he didnt need to go after all?
Maybe he could hold it in all the way home?
But that great big balloon just above his willy didnt want to hold it in. It wanted to pee it out, all down his leg if he didnt
The car horn blared, and he jumped. Turned.
Dad scowled at him through the drivers window. Alastair grinned from the backseat.
Swallow. Turn.
You can do this, Callum.
Youre a big boy now. Big boys can go to the toilet on their own.
He took a deep breath and crept into the Gents. Into the gloom. Into the manky-vinegar stink of old wee.
White tiles covered the walls, the lines in between them all dirty and yellow. Thick scratch marks ran across the brown floor, like something heavy had been dragged from one of the cubicles. Four of them huddled along the left wall, one with its door all splintered and hanging off. Urinals on the wall opposite. Sinks at the back.
A dripping tap went plink, plink, plink.
Callum hurried across to the urinals, unzipped his shorts and stood on his tiptoes.
Nothing happened.
Come on. Come on. Come on.
Hello, little boy. The voice was big and heavy, thick and slimy. Like a huge slug. Youre a pretty little boy, arent you?
A thin stream of yellow piddle splashed into the urinal, wobbling up and down because Callum couldnt stop shaking.
Such a pretty blond little boy.
The Slug slithered closer, breath all heavy and panting.
Please, my dad
Shut up. Dont spoil it. Closer. Are you a good little boy?
Callum stood there, with his shrivelled willy in his hand. Please.
Mmm, Ill bet you are. The Slug was so close now his butter-minty breath washed over Callums face. This is going to be our little secret. If you tell anyone, Ill know. And I know where you live and Ill come get you. Ill kill your mummy and daddy and Ill punish you. Understand?
He nodded. Bit his bottom lip to keep the tears in.
Good. A warm slimy tongue licked its way up Callums cheek, slow and minty and wet. Now youre going to be very quiet and come with