Halfhead. Stuart MacBride B.

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       2

      ‘Control, this is Delta One Four, do you copy?’

       ‘Affirmative Delta One Four. You are cleared to proceed.’

      ‘Jacobs, you’re on sweep. Phillips: back door. I’ll take point. On three, two, one…’ The heavy plastic door slammed back against the toilet wall and suddenly the low, stinking room was full of flies. ‘Move! Move! Move!’

      Jacobs charged in, his Field Zapper pointing everywhere at once. Out in the corridor Phillips was facing back the way they’d come, covering the entrance. Detective Sergeant Cameron ran into the toilets…then slithered to a halt on the blood-smeared tiles. Seven years with the Bluecoats and she’d never seen anything like this. There was something dark and sticky smeared all over one of the toilet cubicles. It used to be a man.

      DS Cameron reached one hand up and keyed the little switch buried beneath the skin of her throat.

      ‘Control…’ She turned her back on the butchered remains. ‘We’ve got a problem.’

      ‘Now, can anyone tell me what this is? Anyone? Yes, Sophie?’

      A small girl in a neon-blue tabard dropped her hand and grinned a gap-toothed grin. ‘It’s a bad person.’

      ‘That’s right Sophie!’ The teacher smiled. They were good kids. ‘Now, can anyone tell me why they cut bad people’s heads in half?’

      There wasn’t even a moment’s pause: all twelve of them leaped up and down screaming, ‘Because they’ve been naughty!’

      To be honest, the halfhead they were staring at didn’t look all that naughty, just another poor soul who wasn’t going to cause any more trouble. A man with half a face, a fried brain, and a barcode tattooed on his forehead. He was slowly mopping his way across the entrance lobby, cleaning the marble-tiled floor until it sparkled. The small group followed him, ignoring the priceless works of art lining the walls. They’d found something much more interesting. Some of the children pulled faces, sticking out their top teeth, pulling in their chins and rolling their eyes. One or two of them pretended to clean the floor with special, invisible mops. It was amazing just how much imagination they had.

      ‘Now, then,’ the teacher said as they rounded the corner, ‘what do you think the bad person did? Nigel, what do you think? What did he do?’

      Nigel examined his boots for a minute. ‘Wath he mean to thomebody’th cat?’

      ‘Ooh, that would be naughty wouldn’t it?’

      ‘Yes!’ they screeched.

      ‘Excuse me.’ The voice came from a well-dressed man waiting for the lift.

      ‘Just a moment. Young persons, what do we say to the nice man?’

      ‘We don’t talk to strangers!’

      ‘That’s right!’ The teacher turned and beamed at the gentleman in the dark-blue suit. ‘Aren’t they clever!’

      There was a slight pause, then the man said, ‘Delightful.’

      ‘We like to come here and look at all the pretty paintings, don’t we?’

      ‘Yes!’

      For the first time the stranger smiled. Obviously the children had worn down his initial reserve. They’d taken someone they’d never met before and, in a matter of seconds, turned him into a friend. They were wonderful that way.

      ‘I couldn’t help overhearing your question, “What did he do?”’

      Nigel jumped up and down, waving his hand in the air, desperate to be the centre of attention again. ‘He wath mean to thomebodie’th cat!’

      The stranger reached forward and ruffled Nigel’s hair, bringing an even bigger grin to the lad’s face.

      ‘He was indeed. A lot of them are to begin with. Before they escalate.’ The man dropped down and winked at the circle of children. ‘Moths, frogs, cats, dogs…Then this one turned his attentions to little boys. He liked to cut their fingers off, one by one, and СКАЧАТЬ