Killing the Beasts by Chris Simms Read Free Book Online

friend.
    'She had a particular type of gravel embedded in her face. Turned out to be part of a very small batch used to landscape a park in north Manchester. We searched the bushes around it and retrieved the brick she'd been bludgeoned with. Forensics got a DNA sample from some skin caught on a jagged bit at the unbloodied end. It matched a sample already on the national database. We lifted him – the landlord – from his pub about three hours later. His car had fibres and blood in the boot. He'd battered her in the park, then driven her across town and dumped her.'
    'Nice one,' said Tom, visibly impressed.
    'So how's work for you?'
    Tom grimaced slightly and looked out of the window. 'It's all right. Pays a shedload but, to be honest, I'm getting a bit sick of it.'
    'Why's that?' asked Jon, leaning forward.
    Tom glanced at him before looking back out of the window. 'I don't know. Arse-kissing clients the whole time doesn't get any easier. Trying to get enthusiastic about their posters and promotions. You work in the industry a while and you begin to realize that all advertising campaigns are based on the same things.'
    'Such as?'
    Tom let out his breath as if bored. 'Yeah. Greed, sloth, envy, pride ... I forget the rest.'
    Jon was surprised. 'Those are the motives for most crimes. I hadn't realized they're the basis for most advertising too.'
    'Not most – all. Take credit cards; that's greed. The ads are always along the lines of “Why wait? Get what you want right now with this card.” No mention about how you'll pay for it further down the line. Cars? That depends on the angle they work. Usually it's pride:“Drive this and people will admire you.” It's all about achieving the same at the end of the day – feeding the machine.'
    Jon continued looking at him, unsure of what he meant.
    'The economy,' Tom explained. 'People have to keep buying products. That's how it works. You can't have people keeping stuff or getting it repaired. You use it for a bit, then chuck it away and buy something new. That's what advertising is there to do: create demand, encourage you to keep on buying. Otherwise the whole capitalist machine would grind to a halt.'
    'You think too deeply to be working in that industry.'
    Suddenly Tom's eyes lit up. 'Want to know what I'm really thinking about?'
    'Go on.'
    'Getting out of it. It's all just a bit of a daydream at the moment, but I'm looking at buying a little business down in Cornwall. A cafe or some kind of shop.'
    'Could you afford it?'
    'Almost. If we sold my place in Didsbury and then added the company bonus I'm due, we could just about afford to buy a smaller place to live in and use the leftovers to purchase the business.'
    'Bloody hell,' said Jon. 'I thought you loved city life.'
    Tom tapped his fingers against his pint glass. 'More and more I'm happy just staying in. The odd meal out, yeah. But the clubs and bars...' He smiled briefly and leaned forward as if divulging a secret. 'I'm just feeling past it, mate. How old are you now?'
    'Thirty-three.'
    'A year older than me – you do nearly qualify for the veterans!' Jon laughed. 'I know what you mean. Apart from our local pub, me and Alice hardly go out. The last time we stumbled into a club it was full of teenagers. Or at least it seemed like it to me. But what about Charlotte? I thought she was a nightclubbing fiend.'
    Tom nodded. 'She's full into it, just like I was at twenty-two. I daren't tell her that I'd prefer to stay in most nights and watch telly.'
    Jon had hardly met his friend's wife, so he decided to ask a little more. 'Is she working at the moment?'
    From the slight pursing of Tom's lips before he spoke, Jon guessed this was a bone of contention between them.
    'She sometimes talks about going on a course at college, but I think she just likes floating around, doing her tennis and keep-fit stuff at the leisure centre. She certainly never wants to work as a receptionist again.'
    Jon turned the information over in his