Chapter 34 #2
Purposely, I’ve gotten off the bus early so I can enter the property through the woods that surround it rather than from the road.
I cradle Angus awkwardly in the same way I have multiple acquaintances’ babies and traipse through the woods towards Harry’s, taking a trail I memorised rather than bringing my phone to follow the map.
When we reach Harry’s house, it’s clear he feels safe in the middle of nowhere.
There are no high walls or electric gates like I would have if I were miles away from civilisation.
There’s a hip-height wrought-iron gate which is closed over; the walls surrounding it are no higher.
I wander the perimeter with my hood over my head and spot the cameras facing the gate, the kennel building and the front door.
I find a position not covered by them and climb over the wall there awkwardly, not wanting to release Angus in case this is when he absconds.
It’s silly to admit, but I had envisioned my feet thudding on this flowerbed would signal my arrival and Harry would reveal himself to me, asking who I was and what I was doing here. I had not anticipated I would go unnoticed. More time is about to be wasted trying to be discovered.
‘Hello?’ I shout, my voice deeper should any of the CCTV pick up audio. ‘Hello?’
Angus whimpers, possibly sensing all the neglected animals nearby, concerned that if he does not comply he too could be left here. I shush him, stroke his head.
‘It’s OK, wee man. I can’t leave you, you’re too incriminating.’
We walk in the direction of the kennel building.
Every few steps I shout, ‘Hello?’ There’s no reply.
There’s a modest Peugeot parked out front, which had led me to believe Harry was here, but maybe that’s a second car, the vehicle of a family member of whom there’s no clear record online.
But the closer we get to the kennels, the clearer it becomes why no one is responding to me.
They can’t hear me over the dance music being played to the dogs.
‘Hello?’ I say, louder. I’m at the side of the kennels now.
Each dog has its own cell with an indoor and an outdoor area.
The outdoor bit is surrounded by chicken wire and has a bowl of water and food laid out for them.
I creep along the side. There’s the scrape of a metal bowl against concrete, the snuffling of food, but I can’t see any dogs.
‘Hello?’
And suddenly, soundtracked to the thump thump thump of techno, Harry pops up from one of the cells further up. ‘Can I help you?’ he asks, much friendlier than I would if I had found a strange woman prowling my land.
Even though I’ve been waiting for him to appear, this instant reveal surprises me. I yelp and drop Angus, who runs off. ‘Fuck,’ I say in my real voice without even meaning to.
‘Give me a sec.’ He leaves the cell he’s in, I assume to come outside and closer to me, which makes this my time to prepare. I unzip my bag and pull the hammer to the top as Harry appears a few metres away from me on the lawn.
‘I found a dog.’ This is back in the lower register, which maybe sounds daft to Harry.
It makes him smile. His face really is quite lovely.
It’s wild, when you think about it. I am going to happily, intentionally smash his skull in shortly, but credit where it’s due, he’s a looker and he deserves what’s coming to him.
‘And then it ran off. Sorry, you surprised me.’
‘I’ve a habit of shocking the ladies. Sorry. The wee bugger won’t have gotten far. We’ll find them soon enough.’
As previously demonstrated, I am not a natural with animals so I don’t have a clue where to start with trying to get one to voluntarily come to me.
I follow Harry’s lead and say, ‘Here, boy,’ while hunching over and tapping my thigh.
After a minute or so of this, Angus isn’t for showing himself.
Harry walks into the area totally uncovered by CCTV to try his luck there. I follow behind.
‘You can ditch the bag if you want. There’s no one else around today, just me. I promise not to steal it.’
I leave it up against the kennel wall, removing the hammer, which I hold behind my back. There’s a thick bush, which I point to and say, ‘I think I saw him in there.’
Harry creeps quicker now, right up to it. ‘You there, boy?’
As he bends down, I run behind him and crack his skull with the hammer.
The first blow sinks him to his knees. His arms curl over his head to protect himself but he’s so confused he doesn’t know what he’s up against. He leaves the crown of his head exposed and it’s two more cracks and he’s unconscious. Two more, then he’s dead.
Panting from the effort needed to take a life, I stand above him until my own breath is regulated, then bend down, put my head close to his chest. There’s no audible heartbeat.
I put my ear over his mouth and there are no breaths.
When total destruction was my plan it was so much easier to enact, wasn’t it? That’s that then. Fuck. I’m a killer.
I go back for my stuff, wipe down my face and my clothes with one of the towels I packed.
When I look at the turquoise cotton of the towel I’m shocked at how much spatter has hit me.
I wipe and wipe myself until the towel doesn’t show any further staining.
Riding the bus covered in blood would be less than ideal.
I wrap the hammer in a fresh towel and pop it in a bin bag before putting it away with the rest of my things.
Then, to be completely sure Harry is as dead as I think he is, I put on the latex gloves and check Harry’s pulse: it doesn’t exist. My work here is done.
On his wrist is a smartwatch that tells me the time is 5:00 pm. To get home and washed and to the meeting is going to be tighter than I’d like. I have to leave.
‘Angus, you little shit,’ I shout. As the words leave my lips I decide that if he doesn’t appear I will leave him.
You hear stories of dogs being found hundreds of miles away from where their owners lost them semi-regularly on the news.
Who says Angus couldn’t have journeyed seven miles in an afternoon by himself?
I don’t have to find out, though. He appears from behind the kennel and bounds over not to me, but to Harry, his worst fears for Mrs Neilan played out in front of him.
Worried I am traumatising this tiny creature, I call, ‘Come on, Angus, time to go’.
He looks over at me, then back at Harry. Blood is pooling around Harry’s skull in the dirt.
‘Come on, Angus.’ Irritation laces my words. Then Angus bends and dips his tongue in the blood before running towards me.