How To Hide A Body

How To Drive Safely

Salzburg has always been a very lively city. People rush past on bicycles, families have picnics on the borders of the river, couples kiss on bridges, drunk men stumble on the cobblestones. But the best part of Salzburg, is, of course, the Wurstbuden; The street sausage stands. You will never, ever, ever, eat anything better. Bart can vouch for this; he was eating his third portion, excluding the portion he stole from Cléo.

We had arrived just in time for dinner. The flight hadn't been long, but we still felt jetlagged. Despite Cléo's urgency to get this whole thing done and over with, Bart and I agreed to prioritise our mental health and eat Käsekrainer and drink Almdudler.

We had booked ourselves into a small street-side hotel which only had two vacant rooms. A fight ensued; we went through rock-paper-scissors to short straws to coin-flipping in order to decide who would have the luxury of having the single-room. Bart won the single room, forcing Cléo and I to share one. To be completely honest, I did not protest much.

In the morning I felt well rested and ready to face the devil himself. Well, I didn't really see him as threatening after I had been able to label him as a disobedient grandson.

We decided to hotwire a car, rather than take an Uber or a cab. Our location would be traceable if we used the latter, especially if it happened to be the address of a soon-to-be crime scene. We hopped into a grey Mercedes and sped off. Bart was driving, I was in the passenger seat and Cléo sat in the back. I checked the license, which was wedged under the seat.

"Guys," I chuckled, "Look at how bad this guy's license photo is!" I held up the license. I had met criminals before, but this man definitely fit the profile. He had a dark beard which crept up both sides of his face. He was grinning an evil smile, despite missing a front tooth and he had no eyebrows. It looked more like a mugshot than a license picture. Cléo snatched the picture from my hands.

"I would never let this guy through security," she chuckled.

"Hey! Let me see!" Bart ordered, his one hand leaving the wheel to grab the license from Cléo. Once she had passed it to him, Bart took his eyes off the road and burst out laughing. "This man must have had a lot of trouble at airports!"

Suddenly, there was a loud thud. I looked up and found that the front windscreen had blood smeared across it and a couple of cracks. I was sure that they had not been there before. Bart pressed his foot on the break and the tires screeched as we came to an abrupt stop.

Cléo hit her head on the back of my seat. For a minute, I was too dazed to speak. "Did- Did we just hit someone?" Cléo asked, rubbing her head. I hastily unbuckled my seatbelt and exited the car.

A man was lying face down on the road, his head was bleeding and his leg was lying at an unnatural angle. I steadily turned him on his side and into the recovery position. When I saw his face, I burst out laughing. The man was unconscious, but he did not seem to be too badly injured.

Once I had contained myself, I looked around and saw that the street was empty and there were no security cameras. It was almost as if this was supposed to happen. Fate was weird. I took a couple of breaths and got back into the car, clutching my stomach which was sore from laughing.

"Sol, I know you're, like, ethically challenged or whatever, but I mean, laughing at a guy who is literally bleeding out in front of you is a new low," Bart said, concerned.

"No, you don't understand," I smiled, wiping a tear from my face, "You hit Jason Veleno!"

"The guy you were supposed to kill? The nice human right's lawyer?" Cléo asked.

"That's the one!" I chuckled. "We can't dwell on it, though. Cléo call an ambulance. Bart, let's go! We have a blackmailer to catch!"

"You're not going to finish the job and kill him?" Bart asked. He sounded almost sad.

"No, of course not! I'm done taking orders from him."

***

"She's coming."

"Are you nervous?"

"No. Why would I be? We have a plan. We're ready. We have nothing to worry about."

"I am not," he picked up the decanter, however, replaced it on the silver tray as he saw how much his hands were shaking, "Worried."

She stifled a laugh as she walked her way over to him. She swiftly placed her hand on his arm and gently laid her head on his shoulder. "She won't bother you much longer," she said, her lips brushing his earlobe. He took a shaky breath and grabbed the decanter.

***

Even without an address, I'm sure after an intense satellite image search of Salzburg, I would have found his house easily enough. It radiated evil. It was a dark green, three-story building on the border of the city. The round glass windows were curtained closed with black velvet drapes. It had large pine trees encircling it, ravens cawed from the treetops. The door was bright red with a shining bronze door handle which shone like a star in the darkness. The trees swayed and creaked gracefully in the wind.

"Remember the plan," I told everyone.

Cléo slipped her hand into mine, which did anything to steady my nerves. "We will be fine, Sol."

Cléo placed a delicate finger on my chin and pulled my face to hers. She kissed me. It was brief enough for me only to realise that it had actually happened after the fact. "I'll be fine." She said it as if it were a promise. I hoped it was. She couldn't die after having done something like that. Bart scoffed and shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

"Excuse me? Now?!" I stammered, "You have had ample opportunity to do that but you choose to do it now?!

"I can't have you dying on me without giving you the appropriate goodbye."

"You think I am going to die?!"

"So, what now?" Cléo asked, clearing her throat as if nothing had happened. I stared at her in disbelief. "Do we, just, knock?" The idea sounded absurd. After a month of chasing him, we would just knock on his front door and walk in?

"Might as well," I said, drawing a breath, "I don't think they're expecting us." No one moved. We all just stared at the door in anticipation, waiting for something to happen, but we were not sure what.

I couldn't bear it any longer. I looked over at my companions. Bart held a rifle in his palm, his hair tied back in a bun. Cléo looked determined, as her blue dress fluttered in the chilled breeze. I knocked on the door. "Let's finish this," I whispered, as we waited for someone to answer.