The Death List Read Online Free PDF Page A

for Lucy—and I didn’t like going back when my daughter wasn’t there. Caroline didn’t like it, either. She only allowed me a key because I needed to lock up after I picked up Lucy in the mornings and to get back in after school. I glanced at my watch as I ran. It was coming up to eleven. What was this mess WD1612 had mentioned? At least I had four hours until I went to pick Lucy up. But how long would my correspondent wait for an answer?
    I slowed down as I approached the house, my knee suddenly starting to complain. It didn’t take much these days. I’d been neglecting my fitness in general. The small front garden was full of bushes and trees that I’d planted, pink and white blossom in their full spring glory. I looked down at the paving stones as I went up the path. There was no sign of any strange footprints. The paint on the door was untouched and there were no scratches around the keyhole. Was this some kind of idiotic hoax?
    I turned the key in both locks and opened the door slowly. The only sound was the hum of the fridge. Caroline’s mail was strewn across the hall carpet. I left it where it was and went up the stairs slowly, turning my head from side to side. I couldn’t hear anything out of the ordinary. Lucy’s bedroom door was closed. That made my pulse rate soar. I knew for sure that I’d left it open that morning as I chased her downstairs to get her coat. I approached it cautiously, wishing I’d picked up a walking stick or even an umbrella from the front hall. After taking a deep breath, I turned the handle and pushed the pastel yellow panels back.
    The stench that flooded my nostrils made me gag.
     
    “What the fuck?” I heard myself say over and over again. “What the fuck?”
    The first thing I saw was a large sheet of heavy-duty plastic. It had been laid over Lucy’s bed and the floor in front of it. Then my eyes focused on what was lying on the bed, the source of the horrendous smell. Jesus Christ, could Lucy have been taken from school and brought back here?
    But I quickly realized that the object wasn’t human. I went closer, a handkerchief over my nose and mouth. Bending over the splayed creature, I made out yellow hair matted with blood and a canine snout. The teeth below it were bared in agony.
    It was the neighbors’ golden retriever, lying spread-eagled. Her name was Happy and she was what Lucy described as “a teenage dog,” being not fully grown. She had been skillfully cut open, her rib cage cracked and her front paws stretched wide in what looked like a travesty of the crucifixion.
    I got the message.
    Lucy loved playing with Happy.
    No one was safe.
     
    It took me less time than I’d initially thought to clean up. There were only a few spots of blood on the pink rug and I managed to make them disappear. I went over to the window and looked out over the back gardens. The neighbors, Jack and Shami Rooney, were childless insurance executives. On decent days like today, Happy was left in the garden, where she had a kennel. I banished speculation about how the killing had been carried out and concentrated on getting the carcass out of Lucy’s bedroom. It never occurred to me to disobey the command. Lucy would have screamed for days if she saw what had been done to the dog she loved.
    I found a roll of large black bin bags in the kitchen. I was about to lean over the dog when I realized that my clothes would get covered in blood and other matter. There was nothing else for it. I stripped and, breathing through my mouth, managed to wrestle the body into a bag. At least rigor mortis hadn’t yet set in. I wrapped it as securely as I could, putting the bloody plastic sheet in another bag and lashing the whole thing together with string.
    Then it struck me. How was I going to get rid of Happy?
     
    I washed myself clean in the shower and put my clothes back on. Then I went back downstairs and let myself out. There were some people in Ruskin Park, but none near enough to