Black soul rose by John Jones... - HTML preview

Boyd

Boyd had gathered the group together in their impromptu meeting place, the corner flag of the football/rugby pitch to discuss how they were going to kill Brett and Kieran.

“Where’s Sam?” asked Dorothy, “he was the one Brett told. He needs to be here”.

“Doesn’t matter for now, we’ll fill him in. Okay, Ian, you were a friend of Brett’s, and Jordan. Who is this Kieran?”

“All I know is that he’s Brett’s older brother. I can point him out, but I can tell you now, he is not going to be easy to kill. Making it look like suicide or an accident will be even harder. Brett will be easier. I can get him to come out for another round of golf in the field where I can bash his skull in. No witnesses”.

They all contemplated that for a moment.

“That may work,” said Glenn, “because the body won’t be discovered for a while”.

“I could try and hide it,” Ian put in, “cover it with something”.

“Maybe,” said Boyd.

“That’s definitely a murder scene though,” Chantelle said. “That can’t be suicide. One day he just decided to go out into the field and bash his own head in with a golf club. No, that will bring a lot of heat. Media. A murder investigation”.

“Unless I leave the club somewhere. I could see if I could leave it in Kieran’s car. At least if he goes to jail he won’t be investigating us. Even if he tries to, 79

no-one’s going to believe him”. The others contemplated further, but came to the mutual conclusion that it was too much of a risk.

“Could someone perhaps burn the house down with both of them in it?”

Chantelle asked.

“If Jordan or Ian could get in the house and lock all entrances, then burn it down, would that work? If you can get in while they’re all asleep and turn on the gas, start a fire then lock the doors on your way out. That would look like an accident, well probably”. Again, more contemplation, this time for around a minute.

“May be a bit risky,” said Boyd. “I mean, how are either of you going to get in at all while the family is in bed? Then there may be witnesses. A child running away from a house that since became on fire. No, too risky again”. The others agreed it was impractical.

“Let’s just drown the cunt,” said Jordan. “We lure him somewhere. To a lake or where there should be no witnesses, drown him so it looks like suicide because he was so traumatised by our trauma he couldn’t handle it”.

“Survivor guilt,” said Dorothy. “Something similar to that. Poor kid couldn’t handle the trauma we went through and drowns himself”. The others all agreed.

“Okay, maybe we should force him to write a suicide note…well, anyway, what about Kieran?” said Boyd.

“Let’s just concentrate on Brett for now,” said Dorothy, “because if we kill Brett, he’s going to be traumatised by that, and we shouldn’t be on his mind for a while”.

“No,” said Boyd, “and we need to kill Brett now, as soon as, then we can concentrate all our efforts on his brother, as we don’t even know how serious he is. Is he really investigating us or has he seen one too many crime shows?”

“Too hard to tell at this point,” said Jordan. “But his mind will be elsewhere once his brother’s dead, so I suggest each of you find out the best place to take him”.

“Golf,” put in Ian. “If we find a park with a pond, or a lake, I can take him out there to hit a few balls, and then we can get him to the water and drown him”.

“Alright,” put in Boyd, “then we can deal with his cunt brother”. The others agreed, and all went their separate ways.

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When Boyd’s father looked around the bedroom doorway, he didn’t notice that he was reading a science magazine, updating himself about the latest in the medical world, a far-cry from when he was in prison.

“Just to let you know the house is ready in Australia. It’s all set for us to move in. Your new school has also brought your induction date forward by a week, so me and your mum have decided to change our flight tickets to two weeks time.

So just get yourself prepared. Start deciding what you want to take with you”.

“Have fun down there,” said Boyd, not looking up from his magazine.

“Come on Boyd, you know you’re coming with us”.

Then he did look at his ‘father’ and said:

“No daddy, I’m not”.

“Everything is in place, we have the paperwork, the visas, the house is ready.

Boyd, we’re leaving in two weeks, plenty of time to say goodbye, but you can still keep in touch with your friends on social media but you’ll already know that. You’re going, and that’s final”. Before Boyd could protest, Neale left and went downstairs.

“Fuck,” he muttered, putting the magazine on the bed and standing up with his hands on his hips, deep in thought.

Perhaps it would be better to play along. Convince them he was going to Australia. Make life easier in the household for a while.

Yet in order to not go to Australia at all, he knew what had to be done.

How would he make it look like accidents or suicide?

Then he realised that didn’t matter. If he killed them inside the house, then their bodies could remain here. They would simply be ‘missing’.

Or they emigrated to Australia, leaving me behind to continue my school studies. They didn’t want to upset that, so left.

It would also mean I get the house to myself. It could be used as a base for the others.

They could also experiment on the bodies.

81

Fuck, I need help with this. One eight-year old boy would be fairly incapable of killing two adults.

Perhaps he could enlist the others to come in at night-time with blades. Sneak into the bedroom and stab them to death.

He gave serious thought to that, but then realised there would probably be some nosy neighbours curious as to why several children went into the house at night.

No, there had to be an easier way.

When he left for school the following day, his father was in the front garden, tending to a cheap ornamental cherub water feature.

“Okay daddy, I can’t wait to tell everyone I’m going to Australia. It’ll be a big adventure won’t it?”. Neale stood up straight and smiled.

“That’s the spirit. I knew you’d come round”.

Later on, in the school playground, between science and music classes, the whole ‘gang’ was huddled in the playground corner, their voices lowered.

“Blood was everywhere,” said Sam, “you should have seen it. I timed it and it took four minutes for him to die. But the police. Fucks sake. Question question question,” he said, making mouth movements with his hand against his ear, then doing the same with the other one.

“Question question question. Anyway in the end they put it down to suicide because he was in gambling debt, which he was”.

“I’m almost jealous,” said Jordan, “you got to straight up murder someone.

Haven’t done that in a long time”.

“That could change,” said Boyd, “because my parents are adamant they’re taking me to Australia in two weeks, and to be honest they’re fucking annoying me with it, so I’m thinking, if I kill them, then that means we have the house to ourselves, and we can experiment on the bodies, because if they’re left in the bedrooms, it doesn’t have to look like an accident or suicide because they’ve gone to Australia”. They others agreed.

“So how are you going to do it?” asked Dorothy.

“I was thinking of getting all us to go around there and stab them to death, but I thought it’s too impractical,” the others nodded in agreement.

82

“Too risky,” said Chantelle.

“What about poisoning,” said Glenn, “we’ve done that before. Remember that time we gave that guy Strychnine? When he was convulsing, and you said Dorothy that he looks like he’s dancing, and then danced with him while he was shaking”. Dorothy smiled as she remembered.

“Oh yes, if you could get hold of that it would work. I think you can get it in rat poison…and furniture polish. Maybe we could mix them both”.

“Well I think once you’ve got it we can put it inside a cake. Because since my parents are off to Australia, I can say we made a farewell cake at school and here are two slices”.

“If you’re not going to actually make it in school,” put in Glenn, “buy one from a supermarket and give them a few slices”.

“Yes, alright, I’ll do that”. Then they all went their separate ways.