Beautiful Death by Fiona McIntosh Read Free Book Online

Lily arrived, it was exactly as Namzul had promised, and easy to park. She slammed the door of the van shut, flicked the lock and looked for the entrance to the flats near Jahan Balti Cuisine. She found the doorway and entered the darkened hall and headed upstairs. The fragrance of various curries wafted from the restaurant and reminded her it was almost lunchtime. She wasn’t fond of spicy northIndian food, but she had eaten breakfast just before three o’clock, and it was nearly noon. Suddenly naan bread and the thick rich gravy of a chicken curry seemed appetising.
    She looked up and saw Namzul peering over the banister. ‘You’ve got me for one minute,’ she laughingly warned him.
    ‘Okay, okay,’ he nodded, ‘that’s all I need.’
    Lily arrived at the doorway and he beamed. ‘Welcome, Miss Lily. Come in and tell me how to make my killing.’
    She walked ahead of him already imagining the brightness of some spring daffodils. He wouldn’t have to spend a lot in fact. He just needed a bright splash of colour and plenty of it. She was just considering whether some sunny white daisies might add a clean crispness when a new smell assaulted her. Gone was the fragrance of cooking and in its place was the overpowering smell of chemicals and suddenly she was inhaling it directly from an old T-shirt. Lily struggled to turn, her dark almond shape eyes staring, confused, terrified into the face of someone she thought was a friend. She began to scream beneath the shirt but Namzul simply pressed it harder to her nose and mouth and the screaming only accelerated the passage of the dizzying fumes into her body. She began to feel nauseous. Was he going to rape her? Lily thought of Jack. Tears squeezed at the corner of her eyes. She felt herself letting go; her knees no longer supported her. Namzul was helping her down as she sank to the worn-out rug and for some reason concentrated on a spider that was crawling up the pale wall that definitely needed daffodils to cheer them. She worried that the spider might find its way into thechicken curry and that Jack would never get his Dutch tulips. Her thoughts were colliding, as her mind unravelled.
    Fingers of darkness grabbed at Lily and the smell of petrol or turpentine, or was it meths? — she didn’t know — clung to her and finally overwhelmed her.
    Lily never heard Namzul’s soft apology, nor did she know she was hurried between two men into the back of her van and that it was driven to a place on the River Lea, not far from the rowing club. And there, as she began to resurface from her stupor, she became aware of being carried onto a boat of some sort. She could smell water, hear it. She could also hear men talking. Then an engine was gunned, sputtered and then gunned again before it caught.
    Lily began to suck in big breaths. She felt sick. Hungover. She also felt angry. Reaching for her phone she heard a voice address her. It was not Namzul.
    ‘Lily, I think you’re looking for this,’ a man said, and it took all her wits to simply focus on what he held up. It was her mobile. ‘But you won’t be needing it any more.’ He threw it out of a window. She didn’t hear the splash. She couldn’t even make out his features, although he seemed to have ringlets. Was she going mad?
    ‘Who are you?’ That’s what she thought she said, but she couldn’t be sure.
    He seemed to understand. ‘My name’s Schlimey. I’m your escort.’
    She shook her head. ‘I’m going to be sick.’
    He held a bowl to her and she started to retch, but mercifully it didn’t escalate. Her stomach was empty.
    ‘Breathe deeply,’ he suggested.

    The cabin seemed to swirl a little more slowly. She could make out shape and form. On her breath she tasted almonds — it was the chemical that had made her pass out. ‘Why did Namzul do that?’
    ‘Because we asked him to,’ Schlimey’s voice answered from somewhere. She couldn’t concentrate on where.
    ‘We?’
    ‘Don’t think, Lily.