Pop Goes the Weasel

18

The lights of Southampton docks glittered in the distance. The port was used 24/7 and would be a hive of activity even now, giant cranes unloading the containers that arrived from Europe, the Caribbean and beyond. Forklifts would be racing up and down the quay as men shouted insults at each other, enjoying the camaraderie of the night shift.

On Eling Great Marsh all was still. It was a cold night, an arctic wind blasting up the river channel, buffeting the car that stood alone in the bleak emptiness. The driver’s door hung wide open and the interior lights were on, casting a weak light over the lonely scene.

Holding his ankles firmly, she began to pull. He was heavier than he looked and she had to use all her strength to manoeuvre him over uneven ground. The going was soft, rendering progress slow, and they left a snail-like trail behind them. His head caught on a rock as she pushed him over the lip of a small ditch. He stirred, but not enough – he was too far gone for that.

She cast around quickly, checking once again that they were alone. Satisfied, she placed her bag on the ground, unzipping it to reveal its contents. She pulled out a roll of duct tape and broke off a stretch. Pushing it down firmly on his mouth, she smoothed her gloved hand over and over it to make sure there was no breathing room. Her heart was beginning to beat faster now, her adrenalin spiking, so she didn’t delay. Grasping his hair, she pulled his lolling head back to reveal his throat. Retrieving the long blade from the bag, she cut deep into his throat. Instantly his body writhed, as his mind desperately tried to regain some form of consciousness, but it was all too late. Blood spurted up, splattering her chest and face, binding them together. She let his warm blood settle and cloy on her – plenty of time to clean up later.

Driving the blade deep into his stomach, she set about her business. Within ten minutes, she had what she wanted, bagging the bloody organ in a zippered bag. Straightening up, she surveyed her work. Where her first effort had been imprecise and laboured, this was smooth and efficient.

She was getting better at this.