“Hello,” he said.
The voice at the other end was clipped and business-like.
“It’s Phil. I’ve got your stuff. I’m bringing it round this afternoon.”
“What time is it? I’m in bed.”
“What? You better get up. I’m planning on setting off as soon as I’ve got your goods in my van.”
This news, which should have excited Pratt, had little impact on him because the last few days had left him emotionally drained. He lacked the energy to get excited. The best he could manage was slightly less depressed.
“Don’t worry, I’m getting up now. I’ll see you when you get here.”
CHAPTER 25
They wheeled Kaz’s body into the house on a stretcher. It was wrapped in a body bag. Pratt was grateful for that.
The other goods that he’d ordered came bagged-up, each in its own zip-up plastic container.
Pratt asked them to put everything in the two big freezers he’d recently installed in his cellar.
He didn’t have the money ready for them; he’d assumed that he’d been ripped off and that he’d never see either of them again. This meant he had to laboriously count it out on the kitchen table while they waited. When Pratt was done, Phil scooped up the money, just like he’d done before.
“It’s been nice doing business with you,” said Anya, extending her hand.
She smiled. Her attractive features were more beguiling than ever when she smiled. Pratt couldn’t help but be won over by her smile. Nevertheless, he hesitated for a moment before shaking her hand. His principles forced him to wonder whether he ought to be in physical contact with a member of an inferior race. Her hand, when he shook it, felt the same as any other, which surprised him. He’d been conditioned into thinking it ought to feel different. Nevertheless, he resolved to stick by his principles.
“Yeah, nice doing business with you,” Phil added, and Pratt shook hands with Phil too.
“Call us if you need anything else,” said Anya as they left.
“I will,” said Pratt.
After they’d gone, he made a mug of tea and prepared himself for the task that lay ahead.
CHAPTER 26
He visited the local DIY warehouse, and bought ten cylinders of extra-powerful ‘No More Nails’ adhesive and a caulking gun to apply it with. He bought some nylon ‘Everlasting’ twine and a pack of sewing needles in varying sizes. Then he visited the Ann Summers shop in the St. Nicholas Shopping Centre in Sutton. He bought a black basque with a red trim, a lacy black G-string; black stockings, black leather boots with six-inch silver heels, leather wrist bands that were studded with silver studs, and a leather neck band to match. His final purchase was a bull-whip.
He drove home and took his many purchases to the cellar. Once there, he removed the body parts from the freezers. He had two arms, two legs, a body and a head.
They were all to his exact specification. The legs were exquisite; the arms were strong and shapely; the body curvaceous; and the head was an exact match for the photograph he’d given to Phil and Anya.
He removed the end of one of the cylinders of ‘No More Nails’ and inserted it into his caulking gun. He applied a liberal layer to the top of the right leg and the right hip joint. He left them for a minute to allow the adhesive to get tacky, and then he pressed the two parts together. He repeated the process with the other body parts and the head. Next, for good measure, he used his needle and everlasting twine to stitch the skin together at the joints with his ‘Everlasting Twine’.
Pratt was a patient and thorough worker. The end result was presentable, if somewhat shocking.
Finally, he came to the main event. He used one of Forsyth’s hacksaws to cut off the top of the head and remove the brain, taking care not to inflict too much damage on its blond hair.
Then he opened the head end of the body bag which contained Kaz’s lifeless body. As he’d feared, her face was half-crushed. He could only hope that her brain wasn’t too badly mangled, and that the machine he had at his disposal would miraculously repair the damage to it.
As carefully as he could, he sawed off the top of Kaz’s head while she was still in the freezer and removed her brain. Then he tripped on one of the many cables that covered the floor and he fell, dropping the brain. It went flying. It bounced soggily a couple of times, bringing to Pratt’s mind the surreal image of a large grey frog jumping across the floor.
He got to his feet and picked up the brain. He put it into the open skull of the body he’d just built and glued the top of the head back into place. Then he did his best to repair the skin with a neat line of stitching.
He dressed the body in the lingerie he’d purchased and proudly cast his eye over it, feeling pleased with the result.
At last he was ready.
This would be a new Kaz, he promised himself, and she would be better, stronger, and more powerful than the one that had died in a tragic car accident on Castle Hill Avenue a few days previously.
He went upstairs, had another mug of tea, and prepared himself for what he knew would be the most challenging aspect of his enterprise: the re-animation of the woman he loved.
CHAPTER 27
Pratt held his breath for a moment, and then he operated the computer on the bench at the side of the cellar.
All was silent for a second or two before he heard hum of the machine coming to life.
The metal plate with the body on it slid smoothly into the body of the machine, disappearing from view.
Next, the cellar was bathed in an eerie blue light.
CHAPTER 28
Next door, in number forty-three, Richard Hoyle looked up at the kitchen ceiling.
“T’bloody strip light, it’s playin’ up again,” he said. “It’ll drive me bloody mad if it keeps doing that.”
Darren glanced at the flickering light.
“The sooner we replace it, the better,” he said.
After a minute or two, the flickering stopped as mysteriously as it had started.
“Why does it only happen now and again?” Darren asked. “Why not all the time?”
“I don’t know but I’ve ’ad enough of it. It’s going in t’bloody bin as soon as it does it again. That’ll teach it a lesson it won’t bloody forget.”
CHAPTER 29
Back in 41 Acacia Avenue, the metal plate with the body on it slid slowly from the interior of the machine. With a pounding heart, Pratt stood over it and observed it for signs of life. There were none. As the minutes passed, tears began to well up in his eyes. All he had to show for his hard work and financial sacrifices was a lifeless body which he’d somehow have to dispose of. He couldn’t face doing that, not right away, maybe not ever. This was his perfect woman after all, with the perfect brain.
Thinking sadly of Kaz, the former unrequited, love of his life, Pratt sloped off upstairs, wondering what he should do. He wandered into the kitchen and did what he usually did when he was confused: he made a mug of tea and sat at the kitchen table sipping it in a sort of depressed daze. He finished his tea and went out into the front garden. By then it was evening, and dusk had fallen.
A good-looking man wandered up the drive Pratt shared with number forty-three. He had dark skin and black hair which seemed to have faint highlights in it, and was neatly parted on the left side of his head.
“Evening,” said the man when he saw Pratt. “You must be our new neighbour. I’ve just come out for a breath of fresh air; I don’t get out much during the day. That’s the price I pay for working in a school, I suppose.”