Max discovered the van hire process involved a credit card for deposit and identity. He did not have one yet, and his license was not enough. It was something of which he had no experience and hadn’t considered. He was now faced with a big problem. He could buy a cheap van, but disposal afterwards was problematic. The vehicle would be traced back to the seller and the formalities would not be in order. Anna’s body had to be taken out of the store, for burial that night. Uncle Pete’s funeral was the next morning.
Stealing a van was not an option; it would soon be spotted by police and traffic cameras. However, Bill knew a man who would loan his van for a stiff charge, so Max took it.
Now they had to prepare for the burial. The cloudy sky was an advantage, but they would need light in the hole. A light weight tarpaulin would cover the grave and contain the light within the hole, and tent pegs would hold it taught.
A cheap electric lantern should provide a couple of hours of light, enough to do the job, but a set of spare batteries would be a sensible precaution. At the same store, he bought a small spade. To get the job done quicker, Star would have to take over digging while he had a break.
Under great pressure now, he and Star made a dash to the storage unit to collect the ottoman, they closed at 5.00pm. Because it was so late, there was no one to help load when they arrived, so Max and Star struggled on their own.
At midnight, the van pulled up at the side gate to the grave yard. The street light nearby cast deep shadows, adding depth to the macabre atmosphere. Max carefully pulled the limp body out of the ottoman, which he had tipped on its side, taking care not to pierce or tear the thin polythene wrap. Anna slithered wetly inside it.
Star parked the van in a less conspicuous place while he lugged the corpse over his shoulder, to the grave. The damp, mist blanketed the graveyard, only a lone owl gave a hoot as Max glided stealthily over the wet grass. The body erupted in a loud gurgling noise as stomach and bowel fluids were expelled by shoulder pressure on the belly. The stench surrounded him when the gas pressure split the polythene. No matter how quickly he moved through the still night air, the foul gas moved with him and clung like smoke from a bonfire.
He reached the graveside and briefly flashed his pencil light to check nothing was in there. Why would there be? Still, he felt he needed to look.
Anna was dumped on the ground. Max hid in the shadows, watching and waiting for Star to arrive with lightproof sheet, pegs, lantern and folding spade.
“Shit! I need a bloody ladder to get down, and up. What is wrong with me? I never gave it a thought.” All the gravediggers’ equipment had been locked away.
Star arrived and Max apologized for overlooking the ladder. “I had better get digging, while you rig up the cover and keep a look out.”
Max shone his torch into the 6 foot deep hole and leapt into it, avoiding the crumbly edges, cut neat and square at the top. He did not want any sign that someone had been near the hole.
Max had figured it would be better to dig the new hole into the side of the excavation. This would remove the risk of a squidgy area at the bottom, should anyone need to get in the hole, prior to the funeral. Max would force the body deep inside this cavity, laid on its side. He would ram the soil back in after the corpse, so the side looked undisturbed. There would still be an excess of soil to be disposed of, but he calculated it would raise the bottom by just 3 inches so, hopefully no one would notice. There was no prospect of lifting the greens and dumping the excess soil on top of the existing. He would also need light to see where to spread it neatly.
It was hard work digging down in the grave; the virgin ground was dense and heavy. The need to dig quietly within the restricted space added to the strain. Max decided it would waste more time if Star came down to dig. He struggled on and an hour later, he called for the body. Star dragged it to the edge and held it back somewhat, as it slipped in.
As Max caught and lowered his end, the wrapping burst showering sticky, foul liquid on him. Holding back the urge to vomit and leap out of the hole, he asked for the remaining plastic dust sheets. He had to strip the body and re-wrap. There must be no whiff of decomposition emanating from the excavation when the coffin is lowered, displacing the air upwards to the gathered mourners.
The naked body of the girl distressed Max. She had been beautiful, now she was corrupted with excrement and gastric juices. Her eyes were slightly open and would not stay closed, glinting in the torch light. They seemed to implore him to respect her.
He took a moment to examine the slashed wrist. As far as he could see, the angle and slash looked self-inflicted. He wondered how people could muster the courage to slash their own wrist, it was beyond him.
Half an hour later, Max was exhausted. He taped up the bundle of discarded plastic, and passed it up to Star. He then had to place Anna in the hole. He realized he was now thinking of her as a person, not a corpse.
She slid in nicely, and faced the virgin earth at the back of the cavity. Max had judged the size perfectly, no wasted effort there. Any expansion of the wrapping from gasses should fill any small voids, before pushing out the earth behind her. The low temperature of the soil would take at least a day to cool the body and slow decomposition; the grave would be backfilled by then. So Max had every reason to worry about expansion giving the game away.
He pushed the soil in on her, ramming it against her back in thin layers as he went. Soon the hole was filled. The excess was spread, tramped down perfectly flat and smooth. He was right with his guess, the grave was about 3 inches shallower than originally, and he prayed it would not be noticed.
“Time to go” he thought. “Star, pull me up with the tarpaulin.” A moment later, the cover was pulled off and one end lowered down. Max got to the top of the hole and pulled himself along the sheet to avoid damaging the top edge.
A quick check to see they had everything they brought, revealed a tent peg missing. They had to risk using the torch to look for it. Several anxious minutes later, Star found it.
Max folded tight the polythene body wrap inside the cover. Even diluted in the fresh air, the smell of putrefaction that coated Max was gut curdling, being hot and sweaty didn’t help. Still it had to be done - but now it was all over.
Star ran off to get the van as Max carried everything. At nearly 4.00am, there were sounds of life in the city. Max moved cautiously, looking around as he approached their van that had just pulled up. As they drove away they saw in the distance, the flashing lights of a police car approaching rapidly. Star swung off the main road, into a side street and zigzagged into other streets. If the police had been alerted to strange noises and lights in the cemetery, Star had given them the slip.
Back at the bedsit, Max bathed and Star bagged up the soiled clothes for the launderette, later that morning. With the bathroom free, she cleaned up herself and changed into her disguise as Anna. Fresh and fragrant again, she kissed Max goodbye and made her way back to the flat for breakfast and to change for the funeral. This was going to be a challenge, there would be many people there she should know, but what will she say to them?
It was 9.50am when Star arrived at the cemetery by taxi. She spotted Max in the background, smartly dressed in a dark business suit, white shirt and black tie. She looked past him at the crowd of people gathering around Mr. Short. Boldly, but with legs wobbling like noodles, she walked up to Short and hugged him. She sobbed for a moment then visibly pulled herself together, mostly ignoring everyone else. During glances around, she saw the people had sympathetic smiles but were shifting away, uncomfortable with the distress the girl displayed.
Star just clung to Short, letting him comfort her and shield her from new visitors as they approached. Max was not surprised when he saw several familiar faces from the drug gang he and Star had been tracking. Mr. Short was well up in the organization, but certainly not Mr. Big.
The service went without incident and immediately afterwards, Star begged to be excused from the reception. She made her way by taxi to the bedsit, with Max.