Saturday 11 – Friday 17 June 2011
When they arrived at the mortuary, Lainey suddenly sobered up.
‘What the fuck is this place, love?’ her voice, raspy from the attempted whisper, echoed down the back laneway to the building.
‘Smells like death, love,’ she said as she pawed at his jacket and shirt. ‘I’m not fucking you in there. Not for any amount of money.’
‘We had an agreement,’ Edwin became agitated that she would renege on their deal. ‘I’ll give you double. Besides, it’s a quiet place, and my wife will never find out that we –’
‘Oh, I see. You’ve got a lovely lady at home, and you pick me up at a pub. You filthy dog,’ she looked him directly in the eyes. ‘Triple it, and I won’t tell your wife what I let you do to me.’
He nodded, and she motioned for the cash.
‘What? You want it now?’
This time she nodded and held out her hand. He dug around in his pocket, pulled out three hundred pounds, and thrust it at her.
‘You get half now, half when we’re done.’
She smiled, snatched the money, and stuffed it in her red patent leather purse.
‘You’ve got yourself a deal, big boy. Now let’s get this shit over and done wiv. I don’t like hangin’ round this part of London after midnight. Too many perverted old rich guys who want to do kinky things wiv girls.’ She laughed and it echoed down the laneway.
Once inside the building, Edwin showed Lainey to the preparation room. He bypassed the freezers, as he was confident that the thought of what, and who was in them would cause her to panic and run.
‘You know, love,’ she said, ‘you’re a right creepy little git, aren’t you? What must your wife have thought marrying you?’
‘Ah,’ Edwin replied calmly from behind her, ‘therein lies the problem. I don’t actually have a wife. I just said that so I could get you in here. Alone.’
For a moment, Lainey the working girl tried to smile, before her legs collapsed under her. Edwin withdrew the syringe from her neck, now emptied of all its fluid, and desperately tried to hold her up and place her on the table in front of him. A live body that was dead weight was certainly different from handling a dead body that was dead weight. For a start, he usually had the assistance of Henry or one of the men from the coroner’s office to help him manoeuvre the body on to the table. Now, he was alone and the task was decidedly more difficult.
Knowing that Lainey would be out cold for about half an hour, Edwin set up an anaesthesia drip that would maintain a steady flow of sedative into her body until she was required to serve her purpose. Henry would return in about six hours, and his education would begin. Edwin found a strong vein in which to canulate her, and started the anaesthetic. He stood back and admired his handiwork, his eyes focusing on Lainey’s red purse, which had landed underneath the table.
He bent down and picked it up, rifled through its contents, and reclaimed his money. Finding her driver’s license he noted her name and address.
‘Well, Lainey Forsythe of eighteen Inverness Road, in some location which has been obscured through the poor handling of your license, you’re not going to make it home tonight. So, make yourself comfortable, relax, and we’ll get started once Henry arrives.
She could hear him talking to hear. What does he mean, ‘we’ll get started once Henry arrives’? Has he invited a group of friends? I’d have happily done them all. No need for this. Why can’t I move? I just want to move. What have you done, you little fucker? The thoughts swirled around the haze in her brain. She felt heavy, but terribly relaxed physically. Mentally, however, she was in turmoil. She wondered if she’d managed to meet some creepy little serial killer. I thought your eyes were too close together, she thought. As much as she tried, no sound would come out of her mouth. Breathing was difficult enough to do, let alone speak.
End of part 3.