Definitely Dead by Kate Bendelow (howl and other poems TXT) 📕

‘He gives me the creeps. He asked me what my favourite colour is. Weirdo.’

‘Ah, did he now? He probably wanted a guess at what colour underwear you’re wearing. You might actually be in there.’

‘Erm, I don’t think there’s any chance of that,’ Lisa said with a grimace.

‘Don’t put yourself down, love, you’re not that ugly.’

‘Cheeky sod.’ She swiped at him with the bar towel. ‘Right, I’m off. Thanks for the early finish. If you ever get yourself a life and need me to cover a shift for you, I owe you one. See you tomorrow.’

He blew her a kiss as she left with a swing of her hips and a flick of her hair. As he watched her walk out the door, he couldn’t help but notice that the man was staring at him unflinchingly. He found it rather unnerving.

‘Can I get you the same again, mate?’ he called.

The man nodded, swallowing down his dregs. He carried his empty glass over to the bar and watched as Spence pulled another pint. Once again, Spence was aghast at how huge the man was.

He had a large bulging forehead, which was accentuated by his receding, mousy-brown hairline. His protruding eyes were rimmed with dark shadows and his nose looked like it had been broken several times. His mouth hung open causing him to drool slightly.

‘What’s your favourite colour?’ Lurch said.

‘Oh, I dunno pal, I’ve never really thought about it. Orange, I guess. You know that bright orange glow you see during a sunset? The colour of salmon. I love that. Why, what’s yours?’

Lurch grinned widely, revealing a mouth of missing teeth. No wonder he was drooling, thought Spence.

‘Rainbow. I like the colour, rainbow. That’s my favourite. I like all the colours.’

‘Good choice, mate. Here’s your drink – on the house.’

Lurch smiled bashfully and carried the drink carefully back to his table with both hands. Spence watched him go. He felt a bit sorry for the bloke. He clearly wasn’t the full shilling. He’d pay for the drink out of his own pocket later, to make up for laughing about him with Lisa.

He watched the man as he settled himself at the table. He might be big, but he seemed harmless enough, Spence decided. He hoped so anyway. He certainly wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of him.

32

Nowak listened to the familiar sound of the screws going through the process of preparing for lights out. Sounds of footsteps, jingling of keys and the opening and closing of viewing hatches grew closer. Eventually, it was Nowak and Naylor’s hatch which was slid open and the prison officer peered in. Satisfied there was nothing untoward happening in their cell, it was slammed shut and the patrol continued. Nowak listened carefully until he was satisfied the screw had moved far enough away before retrieving his hidden mobile phone.

One thing that he had noticed about the phone since he had been in prison was that it seemed to take an age to turn on. He desperately hoped for a message from Markita. His patience was rewarded as the phone came to life and he was notified of two new picture messages. The first was a sexy selfie of her blowing a kiss and the simple message:

I love you xxx.

The second message was from Donnelly:

Markita’s fine, think she’s just missing you, mate. I gave her some flowers, wine and chocolate from you. She’ll be visiting very soon. Here’s a picture of Spencer James, your soon-to-be prison replacement, chatting some bird up outside the pub he works at.

Nowak laughed with surprise at the picture and leaned over his bunk towards the silent bulk of his cellmate below him. ‘Oi, Naylor, you awake, mate?’

Naylor mumbled something inaudible, his voice thick with sleep.

‘Mate, c’mon, sit up. I’ve got something to show you and you’re gonna love it.’

‘Show me tomorrow, I’m tired.’

‘It’s a picture of your fancy woman.’

Naylor sat up so quickly, he caught his head on the metal edge of Nowak’s bunk. Oblivious to the pain he snatched the proffered phone out of Nowak’s hand greedily.

‘Where did you get this? Have you found anything out about her yet?’

‘That bloke she’s with? He could soon be your new cellmate. I’m sure he’ll be happy to tell you all about her.’

Naylor gazed, open-mouthed at the picture as he zoomed in even closer, so he could drink in every feature of Maya’s face.

‘All right, you’ve had a look. Give me the phone back. I need to send a couple of texts.’

Nowak texted Markita back first.

I love you too and I miss you, babe. I’ve sent you a visiting order xxx

Then he replied to Donnelly, his fingers flying expertly over the keypad as he composed his message.

That’s Maya the SOCO from Beech Field I asked you to find out about. My cellmate is very interested to know more about her, think he’s got a crush. Find out what you can and let me know.

Nowak was about to play it safe with the phone and turn it off and hide it away when he received a reply from Donnelly.

So, Spencer James must be our grass if he’s hanging round with police. Once you’re out of there, he’s dead.

Nowak turned the phone off and lay back, shaking his head. Typical Aiden – so much for cooling things a bit. Still, he agreed with the logic. If Spencer was involved in tipping the police off about the firearm being held at The Farmhouse, then what else did he know about him and Donnelly? They knew nothing about the man and that worried Nowak a lot. He was a great believer in keeping friends close and enemies even closer.

At the moment they had nothing concrete to suggest that this guy was a threat to them. But there was the coincidence of him suddenly appearing at The Farmhouse on the morning of the raid and now they knew he was keeping company with a SOCO, so he clearly had good associations with the police. He had