Burial

27

Bob had rented a lock-up garage just round the corner from his house. The Audi idled in front of the doors while Nathan fiddled with numb hands at the padlock.

The garage was dark and smelled of mildew and oil, exactly like Bob's sweater. Nathan stepped inside its damp mouth, fumbling for the light switch. He found it on the breeze-block wall and now the garage was filled with wan radiance and dark corners. Nathan stepped aside to allow the car to enter.

It crept in, brushing its snout against the far wall. Nathan pulled the garage door closed, engaging the four heavy-duty slide bolts Bob had fixed there.

Inside the garage was a workbench. Its corners and holes were linked with ancient cobwebs. There were some oil canisters, a hat rack against one corner, and there was a chest freezer with rusted hinges.

Nathan looked at it. He could hear the low humming of its motor.

Bob got out of the car. He dug his knuckles into the small of his back and lit a cigarette.

'What a night.'

Nathan lit a cigarette too.

'What now?'

'I'll keep it in the freezer until I've researched the best way to get rid of it.'

'Just burn it.'

'And where do you suggest I burn it? Where do I procure a heat source powerful enough to break down human bone? Would you like me to take it home and do it in the oven?'

'All right. The clothes. Let's just douse them in petrol and burn them on the floor. We can do that right now. Right here and now.'

'And what if they leave trace elements?'

'They won't, Bob. There's nothing left.'

'And you know that, do you? You can be certain?'

'Pretty certain, yeah.'

'I wish I could be.'

Nathan was exhausted. The walls seemed far away.

'It's all going in the freezer,' repeated Bob, patiently. 'Until I've found the best way to dispose of it.'

Nathan threw down his cigarette and drew near to Bob.

'We just took a stupid risk, digging this stuff up. Now you want to keep it in your garage, for Christ's sake? What's the matter with you?'

'Are you going to tell anybody it's there?'

'Of course not. But Jesus, you can't just leave it there. We should be dissolving it in acid or something.'

Good idea. Do you know where to get it?'

'I'll Google it.'

Excellent idea. And do you know how to handle it safely?'

"I'll Google that, too. I'll go to an Internet cafe, right now, and I'll order a coffee and I'll

He trailed off. Then he kicked the car, almost hard enough to break his toe. Then he leaned on the bonnet and said, 'Jesus fucking Christ. What a mess. What a mess.'

Bob said, 'Look, okay. It's been a long night. But we did it. So let's not fuck up now, by doing something rash when we're both so tired.

The truth is, that's how people get caught. They do something stupid when they're feeling exactly the way we're feeling right now. Like going to an Internet cafe and looking up how to dispose of a body and being caught on CCTV.' He held up a hand - pre-empting Nathan's interruption - and said, 'Look, I'm sure you're right. I'm sure we can just douse the clothes and burn them. Fine. But what if, I don't know - you've seen the way stuff floats around when you light a fire.

The embers, whatever. What if, by burning the clothes, you're leaving little fragments all over the garage? The kind of thing you can't see, but that Scene of Crime Officers can detect in two minutes flat?

Traces of human fat, or whatever.'

'It sounds pretty unlikely to me.'

'And to me. But I'm not sure. Okay? I'm not sure. I just want to research this stuff. Believe me, it's the best way.'

'Keeping her in a freezer?'

'It's as good as anywhere else. It's better than where she was.'

He watched Nathan's eyes flit to the boot, and said, 'Look, we got away with it. We're not even suspects. But we'd become suspects if they found her, out there in the woods. But they're not looking, Nathan, they're not even looking. We just have to make sure that, if they do come looking, they find nothing. Absolutely nothing. And I want to find out the best way to do that.'

There was a standing pipe in one corner. Nathan flicked away the cigarette and walked over to it. He ran the tap. He took off his shirt.

The water was unbearably cold. He forced his head under. His scalp constricted. He straightened, spluttering. Goosebumps ran the length of his torso. His sparse body hair stood erect, his hair in wet-cat spikes.

He was shivering when he said, 'You're right. I can't think straight. I don't know what to do for the best.'

Bob nodded, with gravity.

Then he opened the boot and hoisted the plastic-wrapped remains in his arms and carried them to the freezer. Still half naked and shivering, Nathan opened the lid. He removed the baskets of frozen vegetables. They put Elise in the bottom and hung the racks of frozen vegetables above her.

Then Bob closed the lid and secured it with a padlock.

Nathan watched him do it. 'Now that's suspicious.'

'What is?'

'Padlockinga freezer. Who padlocks a freezer?'

'What if some kids decide to burgle the place?'

Nathan buried freezing hands in the pockets of his trousers. He hurried to the bonnet of the car, where his clothes lay, and pulled the T-shirt and shirt over his head.

'I'm going home.'

'Do you want a lift?'

I'll take the bus or something.'

'Are you sure? You look like shit.'

I'll be fine. I need to get my head together.'

'What will you say to Holly?'

She'll be gone when I get home.'

'Better make sure she is.'

'She will be.'

'Because you look fueled, mate.'

'That's pretty funny.'

'Can you do me one favour?'

'What?'

'Take our clothes and dump them somewhere?'

Nathan sagged. He reached into the boot and removed the bag of muddy clothing. It smelled of soil. He tied a knot in it.

'Just dump it outside one of the shops on Endymion Road,' said Bob. 'There's always rubbish piled out there.'

Nathan tested the bag's weight. It seemed heavy. His arms were so tired.

He said, 'What are you going to do?'

'Sleep. Then get rid of the car. The spades. The rest of it.'

'Okay.'

There was nothing else to say. So, clasping the bag of evidence in his fist, Nathan unbolted the garage door and stepped into the fragile morning.

Behind him, Bob slid the bolts shut, one by one. Locking himself inside with the bones.