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

his reverie by a loud, authoritative knock on the door. He pulled on some jeans and rushed to open it, anticipating the delivery of a parcel for his sister. On opening the door, he saw two men, smartly dressed, wearing police body armour over their shirts. Their white Vauxhall Astra was parked proprietorially on the drive.

‘Spencer James?’ asked the younger of the two.

He nodded, confused. ‘Is everything okay?’ He berated himself for the foolishness of the question. Police officers didn’t just randomly roll up on somebody’s front door just to announce that everything was fine and dandy. He could imagine Maya teasing him for saying it.

The man pulled a lanyard out of his pocket and flashed an ID badge under his nose. ‘I’m DS Turner and this is my colleague, DC Malone. Could we come in for a moment?’

‘Erm, yes. Please come through to the lounge.’ He swung the door open for them and gestured up the hallway.

‘After you, sir,’ DS Turner said with stern authority.

‘What’s all this about?’ said Spence as he perched on the edge of the sofa. ‘Is this something to do with Ryan Johnson? Because if it is, I didn’t really know him. He was an old school friend, that’s all.’

‘We need you to accompany us to the police station so we can speak to you about a serious assault on David McCluskey. We are also going to conduct a search of this address. Do you understand?’

‘David who? I don’t know who you’re talking about. I haven’t done anything. And this is my sister’s house. She’ll go ballistic if you start pulling things apart.’

DS Turner nodded as he fished out a pair of handcuffs from his body armour. Spence was stunned as Turner cuffed him and read out the caution. ‘Do you understand?’ Turner asked again.

‘Yeah.’ Spence shook his head, bewildered. ‘I mean, I understand the words, but I don’t understand why you’re here. I’ve already told you; I haven’t done anything.’

‘Right, well, we’ll discuss it at the station under interview.’ Turner sounded bored, as if he’d heard it all before. He gestured towards DC Malone to keep an eye on Spence, while he stepped out into the hall and called up on his police radio.

‘DS Turner, comms. With regards to log 897 of today, we’ve made an arrest at this location. Could you send me a van, please? Also notify SOCO that we might need them for the house search.’

The response from comms was inaudible, but Spence had heard enough. SOCO had been requested, which made him think of Maya. Did she know anything about this, is that why she hadn’t replied to his text? She had told him she was off work today on a rest day, so at least there was no chance of running the risk of her turning up. That would be devastating. But what the hell was going on, was it some sort of set-up or sick joke? He didn’t even know anyone called David McCluskey and God knows he certainly wasn’t the type of person to assault anyone.

He was in turmoil as he tried to gather his thoughts. How had he gone from an evening of sheer bliss with Maya, to living this nightmare and being arrested again for the second time since he had returned to England? He felt sick to his stomach and had to admit, he was scared. Very scared.

54

Naylor was pacing his cell expectantly as he strained to listen to Nowak’s side of the telephone conversation. Nowak was grunting encouragingly as he listened to the caller, nodding every now and then. It was the most animated Naylor had seen him since he had been dumped by Markita.

At first Nowak had been enraged, but then once the realisation hit him that there was nothing he could do while he was locked up, he had slumped into a depression. He had barely spoken to Naylor since, choosing instead to lay prostrate on his bunk and feigning sleep.

Nowak’s face suddenly erupted in a huge grin. ‘Well, cheers for all of that, mate. I’ll see you soon, very soon by the sounds of it. In a bit.’ He turned the mobile phone off and returned it to its hiding place, oblivious to Naylor’s building impatience.

‘Well,’ Naylor said as he squared up to Nowak, ‘what happened?’

Nowak placed his palm on Naylor’s chest and firmly pushed him away, a warning look in his eye. ‘Attitude, mate, attitude. It’s done. Message delivered loud and clear.’

Nowak laughed callously as he sat at the table and concentrated on making a roll-up.

‘What did she say?’

‘Nothing. My bloke did what he was told and then he left straight away as instructed. The last thing we wanted was her screaming blue murder, him getting locked up and it coming back on us.’

‘Yeah…’ Naylor nodded carefully, deep in thought. ‘I wonder if she’ll tell that bitch of a mother of hers. Fucking Dominique. She always thought she was something better than she was. And speaking of which, I think it’s time I planned my next little message, don’t you?’

His raucous cackle flooded the cell, as he tossed his head back in laughter, revealing an uneven set of yellowing teeth. Cheered, Naylor reached for the tobacco pouch and cigarette papers and began to roll his own smoke. ‘So, what else did your mate have to say. Any good news?’

‘Yep, looks like you’re going to be getting a new cellmate very soon. Your daughter’s friend. The one who is going to be taking the rap for me has been arrested. They’ll be doing the house search as we speak and will find the bloodstained knife and hopefully other items that we’ve planted there. Then once I’m out of here, I’m going to be having a very serious fucking conversation with Markita and I’ll be finding out exactly what the hell she thinks she’s playing at.’

‘Fucking women,’ Naylor sneered. ‘Told you they’re more trouble than they’re worth. You’re not going to get back with her surely?’

‘Not now. There was a