52

Rossi didn't seem happy to leave things as Floyd wanted them left. He wanted to dig and ask questions. He wanted to know the specific thing which spooked Floyd. He offered to take him for a drink. To a bar. Somewhere to relax and just talk. The day was not chill. They could sit out back in a garden and smoke and drink and chat about it.

Damn… it was tempting. Floyd nodded his head. 'As long as the questions stop when I ask them to. This is a sensitive subject.'

It seemed to be good enough for Rossi, even though he had an idea that Floyd would cry off once he had his drink in front of him. It was a risk Rossi was willing to take. 'You don't need to rush back to check up on Spencer?'

'Fuck you and your sarcasm.' Floyd replied. 'You want to work on this then stop taking the fucking piss Rossi.'

It seemed fair enough. They settled in the back of a bar called something which Floyd couldn't remember. It wasn't somewhere he'd been before but Rossi knew the joint. They could smoke out the back and drinks were brought to them. Rossi was on a gentle shandy and Floyd on a less gentle whiskey.

'I know.' Floyd told Rossi before the man could start going on at him. 'I drink too much. I don't need you to nag me too.'

Dave shook his head and smiled. 'I wasn't going to comment, but it will kill you if you carry on.'

'A reason to live?' Floyd requested and pulled his lighter out of his pocket. 'I'm not here to talk philosophy with you. You wanted to know about the matching skulls.'

Rossi passed over a cigar for Floyd to try. Sometimes when you worked with a psychopath or a sociopath the best way forwards was to befriend. There really was nothing Rossi could think of but to buy the man a drink and offer up one of his Cuban cigars. Floyd took it, sniffed it and nodded a thank you. Gift accepted. Stage one complete. Dave gave that a mental tick in a little mental box. 'I would like to know about the skulls. They were not all the same age, in that I mean that there were hundreds of years between the oldest and the youngest.'

'We are talking of age of the bone and not the age of the person it came from… I assume. You want to know what sort of person would collect skulls which are alike? They were found together?' He had to be careful and not let on that he knew the answers to some of the questions he was being asked. He had to ask things which were un-necessary, because Rossi was a savvy git.

'I would like your take on it. Yes they were found together. They were buried in the foundations of a house. The land was sold, the house demolished and they were found. The puzzling thing is that they were not placed there at the same time. They were placed there when the bone was fresh.'

'Fresh kills.' Floyd muttered around the cigar. 'It makes sense. You're saying though that the person who placed the first skull there couldn't have been the same person who placed the second one there… and so on. I think that's what you're puzzled over.'

Rossi swigged back on his refreshing drink and gave Floyd a gesture to carry on. 'Please…'

'There are many, very many unexplained things which happen. Maybe when they originally happen it was put down to the gods or to witchcraft or elves and fairies. People have to have something to explain the strange and if there isn't anything then they make it up. Do you agree? Well you see what happens now is that scientists have said that fairies and elves don't exist. They try to say that demons and angels don't exist. They tell us that everything is based on science and if that's the sort of conversation you want then go to Sam. It's his thing not mine. He's very much into the creation and the big bang shit. Not me… so… anyway… Science explains things for us. There is even a big division now in the belief of the gods or the singular god, the faith in things like that is slipping and backsliding, so we can't even use that as an excuse to explain the strange. You don't look like someone who believes in UFOs and such. You look like a man who likes to see things in black and white. You don't like that mucky grey stuff which I seem to enjoy so much. What do you want me to tell you, Dave? That someone lived for hundreds of years and had a collection of skulls?'

'People don't live long enough for this to have been from one person. Even family traditions wouldn't last a couple of hundred years. It's not the answer. There has to be something else.'

Floyd smiled and flicked ash over the table. 'You see what I mean though? This was all done by the same person. Someone who had a liking for a certain shaped skull. I can't tell you who it was, but by taking the head and removing the brains carefully and then eating them… well it's almost like the fountain of youth and knowledge all mixed into one delicious slop. There are some who believe that the shape of a head will provide them with better knowledge or with a better life span. That is why the skulls are the same shape and why there is extended times between each. I would guess that whoever owns those heads has a larger stash somewhere. I used to…' Floyd picked up his drink and sipped on it. 'I used to… have a collection of things… I kept the ones closest to me closest. The others I had in storage. I would suggest that you look at the ones you have as the treasure. There are a lot more somewhere.'

Rossi puffed and sipped and puffed. 'And do you know where we would find this trove of skulls?'

'I would only know that if they had been collected by me, personally.' Floyd told Dave.

'And were they?'

Floyd smiled and pulled out one of his own cheroots. 'Now that would be telling. What I do know is whoever placed those under the house didn't expect them to be found and that the others would have been better protected. You wont find them.'

'We will continue to search.'

'All you want.' Floyd hissed back at Dave. 'Those other bones… you said a collector had them?'

Dave smiled and called for Floyd's glass to be topped up. 'You didn't think we'd find them?'

'I… Those… No.' Floyd admitted. 'I know where they are from. I recognised them. I'm not going to comment further on that though. I will ask you again who brought them to you. Who alerted you to my… to this shit?'

'A Professor at a local university.'

'You're not going to give me a name are you?' Floyd swigged back the last of his second drink and indicated his empty glass. 'Information for information. Come on now Rossi… what's his name?'

Dave shot Floyd a dangerous smile. 'The man wishes to live. I'm not going to hand you his warrant.'

'You do me a miss-service with that kind of thinking. I merely wish to know who it is.'

'I merely wish to not be the one responsible for his death.' Dave winked as though this was one big joke to him.

This wasn't good. This was a pile of old shit actually. 'I need the bones from the box of the black sigh.' Floyd announced. 'I need them back. And what I mean by that is that those are special bones and they have to be dealt with.'

He kept saying this. He was almost in a panic over the ancient bones. But the box of the black sigh? Rossi didn't understand this. 'Which box is that, Floyd and why would you need that one? You didn't even look inside.'

'Because some old cunt has been on my trail for a long time. This is sick. This is disgusting and sick. There are dark things out there which you'd never imagine. I find it hard to get my head around it sometimes, but I put it to you that the professor isn't all he's making himself out to be. What sort of man collects bones?'

'Tell me. What sort of man?' Dave replied. 'What do you mean that someone has been on your trail? Are you trying to tell me that something or someone has been digging up your kills?'

Floyd stood. He caught his ankle on the edge of the bench and let out a yelp, picked up his empty glass and hurled it at the wall at the back of the open yard they were sitting in. 'Stop fucking playing games with me Rossi! This is the life of Spencer we are talking about. The life of Sam. You want to see them dead just to satisfy your theory?'

Dave stood and that dangerous smile was back on his face. 'We are talking about the bones of hundreds. Not a few dozen… hundreds of bodies… someone killed them, ate parts of them and decorated the bones with something to remind them of what a great time they'd had. Someone made notes on the bones as to what they'd tasted like, what they had done when they died… did they urinate or defecate? Did they cry and beg for mercy? It's all there.'

'Fucking bollocks is it! Fucking load of shit! Who the hell told you that? The damned professor or fucking losers? Fuck you! Fuck you and fuck everyone. I'm going home.' He paused and sat back down again. 'I need a lift. Don't think I can walk that far. What the hell is this shit I've been drinking. Did you know I never used to be able to get drunk? Just thought I'd tell you. This shit makes my fucking head hurt. Makes me talk crap. And you're telling me that you would see Spencer and Sam dead so that you can get me locked in a glass coffin for eternity? That's what you want?'

Rossi sat down again too and waved over for a fresh glass and drink. He had his own glass topped up with soda pop. Floyd curled his lip at the sight of it. The man was being cautious.

'I want to understand you. This is not BAU business. This is my hobby. I want to understand why you do these things.'

'A man can't live for thousands of years. You said so yourself.' Floyd snatched the fresh glass and took the bottle from the waiter. 'I'll have that thanks.' He topped up his glass but drank directly from the bottle. 'So what's this all about?'

'A man can't live forever, Floyd. That gives me two options; you're not a man – at least not in the sense we would usually say, or you're a liar. Now I know that you're the latter. We have more than enough proof that you lie without even knowing what you're doing. But those lies sometimes hit close to home. Your lies are also truth. But how can that be, Floyd. How can you have killed all of those people? It's not possible… therefore the only answer to that question is that you are insane.'

'Cheers.' Floyd said.

'Criminally insanity is a subject which I like. I find it very interesting. I find you very interesting. You actually believe that you killed all of those people, and because you believe it you wont talk to me about it. You don't want to be convicted of it. I can understand that. I have no proof it was you… no proof probably because it wasn't you, now the other thing is that maybe you're not telling me the information I would so dearly love because you're a liar and your insanity is a liar… you really do think that you do all of these dreadful things, but you don't. It's not you. You're not the most evil man on the planet, you're a spiteful drunk who abuses those who are closest to him. You need help. You need a lot of help.'

'I think we should leave. You'll never understand.' Floyd could hear that he was talking slowly… trying not to slur his words.

'Another day? A drink and a chat?' Rossi bleeped the car open for Floyd who slipped in and put his feet up on the dash board, knowing it would annoy Rossi; at least had it been his car he'd have been annoyed and snapped a pair of ankles. Annoyingly though, Dave said nothing. He drove them home slowly and calmly and asked Floyd about his shirts. Floyd didn't deign to answer his questions.

o-o-o

Spencer had waited for Sam who arrived back home grubby, as though he'd been rolling around in the street and he had a bloody nose. Spencer stood and walked to meet him. Sam's shoulders were slumped and he was walking slightly strangely. 'I don't want to talk to you. Where's Floyd?' Sam snarled at Spencer, who then told Sam that he'd gone with Rossi to look at some old bones. He would be back shortly. He then asked what had happened to him.

'I got beat up for being a fag.' Sam snapped at Spencer. 'Everyone hates me. Even people who don't know me hate me. I'd never seen them before, but they came at me with their gold chains and fucking arses hanging out of their jeans and called me a faggot and then pushed me and slapped me around. Then they kicked me in the balls. Why is it that when you were going through shit like this that you had someone to watch out for you and I don't? Where's my protection from the criminals out there. The homophobes who just want to slap around the kid who looks a bit different.'

Spencer shrugged. 'Looking at old bones with Rossi? Come in and wash up. I'll make a sandwich. Tell me where you were when this happened.' Spencer took Sam's hand and dragged him back into the house. Miss Kitten across the street had been keeping her distance. She seemed to realise maybe that this happy family was trouble. Sensible woman. Spencer saw the curtain twitch though. Good for her. Let her imagine the horrors going on inside the house. She wouldn't be far wrong.

He took Sam to the kitchen and told him to sit up on the counter surface. Spencer got disinfectant and slowly wiped down all of the scrapes and cuts. He also told Sam that he wasn't going to be kissing him better, but he moved close and wrapped arms around the very confused Sam.

'You tell me that you want me to go away and leave you and Floyd for a decade and then you hug me? I don't get you. Why can't you do and say what you mean and stop messing with my head?'

Spencer rested his head on Sam's chest. He could hear the skipping, thumping, bouncing of Sam's irregular heart beat. If a doctor listened to this, Sam would be put in intensive care and be given a week to live, but the sound was so similar to what he heard in Floyd's chest that it was a comfort. 'Each time I have died, I've come back changed.' Spencer spoke slowly and carefully. He didn't want to say the wrong thing. He didn't know if he should he saying anything. 'I was convinced at one time that I was not a sexual person. I denied it. Very strongly I denied it. But I was slowly persuaded and then death changes things. I'm not who or what I once was, Sam. I'm confused and not coping too well with what I'm feeling. I love Floyd. You know I do. There's nothing I wont do for him, and infidelity is something I'm struggling with. Greatly. I've made the mistake with Morgan, I'm not going to make it again with you. If my actions caused Floyd to permanently harm you or dispose of you I don't know if I can forgive him and that thought is unbearable. I can't feel like that.'

Sam stroked the top of Spencer's head. 'Do you want my arse?' He asked him.

'More than you'll ever know. That's the reason I have to keep you away from me. I can't… I just can't…'

'So he'll slap me. So he'll slap you.' Sam shrugged. 'I dare you. Do me here… pull down my pants and have me on the kitchen counter.'

'No.' Spencer began to pull away but Sam already had his legs tightly around him.

'You sat me here for this purpose. Don't try to tell me otherwise.' Sam pulled tighter on Spencer's hair. 'Come on! Take me! Get it over with then you'll not have to sit and brood about it! Come on you dirty whore! Do me! I can feel how hard hot you are!'

o-o-o

They were playing chess when Floyd walked through the door. Spencer and Sam, both slightly flushed in the face looked over and smiled. The smile wasn't returned, but that wasn't unusual. Spencer could feel his heart pounding in his chest and the flush in his face increased as sweat popped out on his brow. Sam though, went very pale… the colour left his face instantly as he tucked a bit of stray hair behind his right ear.

'He…' Floyd muttered and then walked to the couch and threw himself down in it with a sigh. 'Someone…' He started to talk again as Spencer and Sam followed Floyd with their rather nervous looking eyes. 'I know.' Floyd then said and rubbed at his eyes with his fingertips.

He knew. Spencer and Sam just weren't sure what it was Floyd knew. 'Ah.' Sam said, but Spencer remained silent.

'I once had a home on the edge of a river. I lived there alone most of the time, well all of the time. I took people back but they didn't live there with me. They've pulled it down. I don't know why. It still belongs to me. It seems though that someone has purchased the land.'

'Bummer.' Sam said, then looked back at the chess board and moved his rook.

Floyd stared at his two boys. 'They will likely find more remains there. They've only found the six skulls I had in the basement. There's rather more than that scattered over the land. I had a small hidden underground place. They will eventually find it when the land is cleared. If it's not fallen in and collapsed, they will still find it.'

Spencer stood now and joined Floyd on the couch. 'That was what Rossi wanted to show you?'

'Oh he knows. I'm sure he knows everything. The land is held in my name. He just chose not to say that. He was pushing me for information. I gave him some. It's not something he will believe though. He's not one of us. However, he had bones from other places. They were my kills. My hidden stash of stuff. I think he has it all. The dark…' Floyd wrapped his fingers around one of Spencer's hands. 'They have Anthony's bones. I could hear them. I could feel them. He wouldn't tell me how he came about them, but to say that a Professor at a university brought them to him. I would like to say I don't believe it, but how else?'

'You have someone trying to take what is yours?' Sam asked. 'Can you…? Can you get his bones and…'

Floyd squeezed Spencer's hand. 'I need those bones. I have to have them and dispose of them properly.'

Sam now jumped up and walked over to Floyd. 'Anthony? You can get him back! You can…'

'No.' Spencer moaned. 'Not now. Not now we are pulling together and making things right.'

'I don't want him back. I want his bones. I want them disposed of. How the hell could anyone find them? They were buried in the middle of the fucking forest! I buried them in a ditch. They should have rotted away and never been found. But they'd not been… they… Someone took him before. Someone knew.'

'Don't look at me! I wasn't alive back then.' Sam muttered. 'But there's something else I have to tell you…'

Spencer wanted to shut Sam up. He wanted to silence him quickly. 'What should we do?' Spencer was now squeezing Floyd's hand back. Panic, annoyance… damn Anthony! Damn him!

'Spencer screwed me in the kitchen.' Sam blurted out.

'I know. I said I knew didn't I? I can smell it. Was it good?' Floyd asked Spencer. 'I think he has a delicious little arse. I'm glad you've finally done what needed to be done. Now we are really all one. Fun, fun, fun… but back to the bones…'

'Sod the fucking bones! That was years ago. And they can't get you for that. There was no way they can accuse you of that and they'll never know what he died of. That's not a problem.'

'The problem is that I have to let Anthony rest. If I can let him rest then I can too. I wonder what else the fuck has taken of mine. And I wonder who would do that. Any ideas Sam?'

'I would have said it was Iolanda, but he's dead. I can't think who else it could be though.' Sam moaned. This was going to be a damned pain in the arse. If Iolanda was back and fucking with Floyd then there was going to be trouble.

'Hm…' Floyd sighed. 'I thought the same. He's been fucking me around since time began. I thought I'd put a stop to it. We have to find him. I'm giving that job to you Sam.'

Sam stood in stunned silence. Iolanda had been the one who had trained him from an early age. The one who had treated him like an animal. The one who had abused and hurt him more than anyone ever had. 'I would… but I don't know where to start.' A lie. He didn't want to! He didn't want anything to do with that man.

'Try the universities first. I'm tired. Finish your game and come to bed. I need both my boys tonight. We need to bond properly.'