Angelica grasped her daughter by the wrist and fixed her with a searching gaze.
‘Tell me you haven’t turned my baby,’ she said.
‘Kat is fine!’ Sasha wriggled in her grip. ‘She‘s been chewing on a chunk of bean curd but it’s hardly going to kill her.’
Without word, Angelica hurried for the kitchen. There, Ivan was picking apart the grilled halloumi as if performing a dissection. Oleg had taken himself to the table, from where he stared through the French windows seemingly lost in thought. On seeing her mother, Katya scrambled across the floor towards her.
‘Cheese! Cheese! Mince, mince, cheese!’
‘What have they done to you?’ she asked, gathering the toddler in her arms.
‘Can you believe people actually eat this?’ Ivan turned to face his mother with a carving knife in hand. ‘Imagine what Sasha’s insides must look like.’
‘Now you put the knife down, too,’ Angelica said calmly. ‘And apologise to your sister for upsetting her boyfriend.’
‘I didn’t upset him,’ said Ivan, still clutching the blade. ‘I just pointed out that he wasn’t as meat free as he believed.’
‘You shouldn’t have put stock in his tea,’ said Angelica. ‘It’s important to have respect for people. Sometimes even vegetarians.’
‘Your mother is right,’ said Oleg, stirring suddenly. ‘It doesn’t matter what she chooses to eat, Sasha will always be your sister.’
Ivan switched his attention back to Angelica. The boy looked cornered, almost betrayed.
‘Wait until I tell Dad,’ he said, before dropping the knife in the sink and rushing for the door.
Sasha looked from her grandfather to her mother, and then crossed to the kitchen counter where she had left her phone. Having caused such an upheaval in the home, and dreading how her father would react if he ever found out, she had a sudden urge to assure him that one thing would never change.
Vernon English had parked just in front of a litter bin. He opened his car window, balled the chocolate bar wrapper in his fist and took aim.
‘Bullseye,’ he declared, as the wrapper passed clean through the opening. It was a small achievement, but a first for the day given the disastrous collapse of a piping-hot pasty in his lap. Vernon celebrated with a small air punch, and then settled back to continue listening in on the conversation taking place in the Savage kitchen.
Having committed himself to investigating a possible link between the family and the discovery of a body at the foot of Beachy Head, it was frustrating to hear yet another heated exchange about food. What was it with these people? he thought to himself. Everyone needs to eat but the Savages took it to an extreme. Over recent weeks he’d overheard the eldest daughter and her mother conspiring to smuggle in vegetarian food and hide it in the cupboards and the fridge, but the secrecy just didn’t make any sense. So, Sasha was ditching meat from her diet. It wasn’t uncommon for a girl her age, but hardly comparable to witchcraft. Vernon had struggled to understand what it was she had to hide. Now her brother and her grandfather were wise to the situation and suddenly the world was coming to an end in there.
‘So, what’s Titus going to do?’ he asked, as if addressing those left in the kitchen after Ivan had walked out. ‘Force feed her pork pies?’
‘I’m sorry you had to be involved,’ he heard Angelica say, presumably addressing the old man, Oleg. ‘I was hoping Sasha would get it out of her system. It seems I was wrong.’
‘Don’t blame yourself,’ replied Oleg. ‘It’s Ivan we should be concerned about.’
‘He’s going to tell Dad,’ said Sasha. ‘I might as well pack my bags right now.’
‘Let’s not overreact,’ said Angelica. ‘So long as he doesn’t think the whole family is in on this, he’s less likely to explode.’
‘Cheese! Cheese!’
Vernon listened to the speaker crackle and pop for several seconds, which marked the abrupt silence that followed Katya’s contribution. Yet again, the private investigator was left baffled as to why someone’s dietary choice should be the cause of such high drama. As Angelica, Sasha and Oleg went on to discuss the best way to break the news to Titus that his firstborn had forgone meat, Vernon sat back in his seat, closed his eyes and sought to work out just what it was that none of them would put into words.
Titus Savage was not unhappy to find himself caught on a tube in the rush hour. He was a tall man, which allowed him to stand head and shoulders over everyone else. It also meant that he could pick off a passenger and assess their quality at close quarters.
On this occasion, as he headed home from the office, Titus loomed over a lean, middle-aged man with a grey crop and matching stubble. The guy was a distance runner, Titus decided, judging by the tanned face and lack of much fat around the midriff. Still, at that age you couldn’t help but timber up. A little padding on lean meat was the perfect combination.
Ultimately, it stopped a cut from drying out in the pan.
It was a short walk home from the station. With some heat and light still left in the day, Titus swung his jacket over his shoulder and wondered what might be for supper. They hadn’t eaten pork in quite a while. As both Ivan and Sasha appreciated a little kick to their meat, he hoped that Angelica would agree that a Thai was in order. Approaching his house, Titus decided that even if it meant he had to pop out to the superstore for a few ingredients, it would be worth the effort. Nothing compared to a feast, of course, but as a midweek meal it would be something they could enjoy as a family. What Titus didn’t expect, on passing a rundown van, was to hear the voices of his wife and daughter discussing the contents of the cupboard. He slowed to a halt, just behind the driver’s door, and realised that it was coming from a speaker inside the vehicle. He didn’t stop to listen in. Instead, he walked on casually, switching his jacket from one shoulder to the next before finding his front door keys.
23
Ivan Savage had been waiting for his father to return home. As soon as he heard the door open, he raced to the bottom of the stairs.
‘Dad, there’s something you need to know!’
In response, Titus raised his palm and then signalled with a finger to the lips for his son to shut the hell up. Next he found his phone and quickly dashed out a message with his thumbs. As soon as he had finished, Titus showed Ivan the screen.
Our house is under surveillance. Let me do the talking.
‘But it’s important,’ Ivan pleaded, only to fall quiet when his father glowered at him, and then follow sulkily in his footsteps as he hurried into the kitchen. There, Titus showed Angelica and Sasha the screen. Both looked up at him smartly, while Titus did his level best to signal that they should talk as normal. He then crouched before Oleg, whose eyesight wasn’t what it once was, and whispered in his ear.
‘So,’ Angelica began hesitantly. ‘How has your day been?’
‘Oh, you know,’ said Titus, who began to scour the kitchen for the listening device. ‘The same as ever. Nothing much to report.’ He paused to run his fingers under the cupboards. ‘How did you get on with the agency?’
Angelica took a moment to compose herself.
‘They’re as shaken up by the tragedy as all of us,’ she said. ‘How sad to think that poor woman was in our house all day. If only we’d known what despair she was in, we might’ve been able to help her.’