Hollowed Bones (A DI Fenella Sallow Crime Thriller Book 5) by N.C. Lewis

Hollowed Bones (A DI Fenella Sallow Crime Thriller Book 5) by N.C. Lewis

Author:N.C. Lewis [Lewis, N.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-04-29T16:00:00+00:00


Chapter 43

A strange joy danced along Eddy Winton's spine as he stepped from the shed and closed the pink door with a firm click. The afternoon sun splashed warmth on the back garden. Their half-acre supplied a bounty of vegetables. In a fenced-off area, a flock of hens roamed free.

He and Tilly had handled the hens from a young age. They told them their names until each bird came when called. He glanced at the flock of hens quietly pecking in the fenced yard and let out a contented gurgle. Then he looked back at the shed with the bright pink door. He'd worked long and hard on his special project inside.

Rubbing his hands, he said, "This is the life, ain't it ladies?"

On Good Friday and Christmas Eve he slaughtered a hen, using a bird-plucking device he'd bought online to strip the carcass of feathers. Fear licked his hands to a tremble the first time he'd wrung a bird's neck. But Tilly had shown him how.

"Twist and snap and yank and done," she had said, her American accent bold and strong.

The second time he did as she commanded. His thick hands squeezed with savage force. Twisting. Snapping. Yanking. His eyes bulged and his face turned purple as the hen put up a fight. Not quick. Not easy. But he felt a surge of godlike strength tremor through his body as the hen's life faded away. The plucking machine shuddered and quaked and rumbled, shaking free feathers and quills. The bird lay bare and ready for stuffing within a few seconds. A short while later he drank wine from a gold goblet and ate until his plate was a mound of bones, picked clean.

Eddy stared once more at the flock of birds and he stared at his calloused hands and he stared at the shed with the pink door. He went back to the shed and pulled out the plucking machine to check that it was ready, then placed it by the side of the shed. He flicked his grey-flecked ponytail. The birds pecked. Contented.

"A long and healthy life to you," Eddy said. "May you all grow big and fat."

He turned to admire the shed. It was a windowless shack scrabbled together from driftwood and rust-stained nails. He'd found the bright pink door on a midnight forage at the town rubbish dump. It had a brass knocker and a peephole. He painted over the peephole so no one saw inside.

"Pink gives the shed a cheerful touch," Tilly had said. "It makes you think of the fairground with all those nice rides for kids."

But they both knew what they kept chained in that dark place was not for fairground pleasure.

"Be ye patient," he said, watching the hens. "The day will soon come."

The hens continued to peck. He gazed at them for a long while trying to assess the meatiness of their breasts. It wasn't Good Friday or Christmas Eve but on Sunday they would have roast hen for the second time this month.



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