BooksBarbecue
Back Bad Apples
Chapters (65)
  1. 1
  2. 2
  3. 3
  4. 4
  5. 5
  6. 6
  7. 7
  8. 8
  9. 9
  10. 10
  11. 11
  12. 12
  13. 13
  14. 14
  15. 15
  16. 16
  17. 17
  18. 18
  19. 19
  20. 20
  21. 21
  22. 22
  23. 23
  24. 24
  25. 25
  26. 26
  27. 27
  28. 28
  29. 29
  30. 30
  31. 31
  32. 32
  33. 33
  34. 34
  35. 35
  36. 36
  37. 37
  38. 38
  39. 39
  40. 40
  41. 41
  42. 42
  43. 43
  44. 44
  45. 45
  46. 46
  47. 47
  48. 48
  49. 49
  50. 50
  51. 51
  52. 52
  53. 53
  54. 54
  55. 55
  56. 56
  57. 57
  58. 58
  59. 59
  60. 60
  61. 61
  62. 62
  63. 63
  64. 64
  65. Acknowledgements

She frowns but Botox ensures it’s not much of a frown. Her eyes are narrow slits of hate right now.

‘Two things. Are you sure that contraption is turned off?’

I nod and show it to her.

‘One. No member here is implicated in any way. We’re a closed group. We know each other’s business and many of us are in fact related. This is in many ways a family organisation.’ She lowers her voice to a whisper but I can just about hear her. ‘We know who’s sleeping with who; when someone loses a significant sum of money on an ill-advised investment. There are no secrets here.’

‘And?’

She sits up a little straighter. ‘The Yugoslav pizza chef.’

‘Kodro is Bosnian. And he’s not the chef, he’s the owner.’

She scowls at me. ‘Have you researched his personal war-record? The man was investigated by the international-war-crimes tribunal in The Hague. He wasn’t tried in the end but I’m told that decision was purely political. You look into what he was accused of and you’ll find some very troubling similarities to the Arne Persson slaughter.’

‘Okay.’

‘Two. The Yugoslav is very close to the twin boys who own the computer-game café next door to his grease pit. Those twins were harmless enough before they met him. They used to play their dragons and dungeons games, playing cards mainly. But since the Yugoslav moved in next door they’ve been involved in extremely violent and sadistic online games. And the Yugoslav plays, too, after both shops have closed. Some kind of cult in there. They even have an interconnecting door between the buildings; they don’t know I know but I do. The door connects their basements underground. Those two boys have been trained up like his personal soldiers. The three of them have turned into some kind of elite Yugoslav death squad.’

29

On the way out to the car park I pass six women who all look identical. Blonde bobs, well-fitted trousers, expensive leather trainers, navy-blue merino-wool sweaters, gold jewellery, designer sunglasses up in their hair. I can’t help staring. They look straight through me and stiffen their smiles.

Volvo, Volvo, Volvo, my beloved Hilux. I jump in and speed off, leaving the Edlund cult – sorry, club – behind in my mirrors. Place makes me shiver. Entitlement, short grass and tiny little balls.

In the office I remove my aids and start digging. There isn’t much noise in here, just Lena in her office talking on the phone to an old friend in New York. But I like the ritual. Aids out, tabs open, Word doc waiting.