More Bloody Horowitz

121 Pages·2010·24.8 MB·English

by  Horowitz Anthony

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Contents
The Man Who Killed Darren Shan 7
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An embittered, failed writer plots a hideous revenge.
Bet Your Life 19
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What’s the worst thing you’ve ever seen on TV?
You Have Arrived 31
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Two thugs are on a journey to hell in a stolen car…
The Cobra 43
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A tale of poison and humiliation in the backstreets of Marrakech.
Robo Nanny 53
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Two brothers face a nightmare when technology runs amok.
Intermission 63
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My Bloody French Exchange 69
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Monsters and murder … and all he wanted was to learn French!
sheBay 83
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She was Daddy’s favourite … until she had to be sold.
Are You Sitting Comfortably? 91
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Some marriages end unhappily. This one ends with blood…
Plugged In 103
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They should have known there was something unusual about their neighbour…
Power 111
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The strange, unpleasant death of a strange, unpleasant boy.
Seven Cuts 123
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Final words from the publisher of this book.
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the MAN  
WhO   
KILLeD  
DARReN  
ShAN
Looking back, Henry Parker
could honestly say
that he had never wanted to hurt anyone. Certainly, it had never occurred
to him that he would one day plan and then execute the perfect murder of
an internationally well-known children’s author … even if that was what
Darren Shan had come for him…
actually happened. To begin with, all Henry wanted to do was write.
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8 Mor e Bloody Horow itz
Even as a boy he had dreamed of being a “Werewolves enjoy mincing human organs.”
writer. No, not just a writer, but an Author “And in this other story … the boy being
with a capital A – published, with a fan club, nailed down in that way. Wouldn’t it have been
his book in every bookshop window, his photo- better to leave a little to the imagination?”
graph in the Sunday newspapers and a great “My readers may not have any imagin-
pile of money in the bank. And what sort of ation,” Henry replied.
writing would make his name and put that “I’m sure that’s not true.” Mr Harris sighed.
name on the front of a million books? “Have you considered writing any other genre?
Henry loved horror. To him, the only good Romance, for example. Or perhaps a spy story?”
story was one that had people dying, knives “I prefer horror.”
cutting into flesh, brains exploding and blood “Well, I don’t want to discourage you. It’s
dripping from every paragraph. In “Verbal very good to see you taking an interest in any-
Abuse”, written when he was just sixteen thing at all. But I don’t think you’re going
years old and still at school, a boy was actually to succeed unless you tone it down a little.
crucified by his Latin teacher for talking in Scaring people is one thing, but making them
class, while in another work, “Tooth Decay”, feel sick is quite another.”
a Birmingham dentist was torn to shreds by That night, Henry began a new story in
one of his patients who turned out to be a which a stupid English teacher called Mr
werewolf. Harris was captured by cannibals and eaten
Having written these stories, Henry wasn’t alive.
sure who to show them to. His wealthy par-
ents were abroad most of the time and didn’t Two years went by. Inevitably, Henry wrote
seem to have a lot of interest in their only son. less as his A-levels took over his life. He did
He didn’t really have any friends. In the end, not get brilliant results, managing only two
he went to his English teacher and asked him Cs and a D. His worst marks were for English
to look at the neatly-bound manuscript he’d Literature. In one paper he wrote five hun-
carried to school in his backpack. “I’d be very dred words describing the murder of Duncan
grateful if you would tell me what you think, in Shakespeare’s Macbeth; the woman who
sir,” he said. “Although, personally, I think marked it actually resigned from the examina-
they’re very good.” tions board the very next day.
The teacher, Mr Harris, accepted the task Henry didn’t go to university. By the time
with pleasure. He was always glad when any he left school, he felt he had learned more
of his young students showed initiative in than enough and that three more years of
this way. However, after reading the pages education would only get in the way of his
at home, he wasn’t quite so sure. “Your work becoming a world-famous author. His parents
does show promise, Henry,” he muttered. “But owned a large house in Reading where he
I have to say, I did find some of your writing a could live. He was fairly sure that his father
little … over the top.” would support him while he wrote his first
“What do you mean, sir?” Henry asked. full-length novel. He already had the begin-
“Well, do you really have to be quite so nings of an idea. Fame and fortune were
explicit? This paragraph here – where the surely only just round the corner.
dentist’s heart is pulled out and then minced – But then two things happened that
I read it after dinner and felt quite ill.” changed everything. First of all his parents
“But it’s a werewolf!” Henry protested. died in a bizarre accident. They had gone to
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The M a n Who Kill ed Da r r en Sh a n 9
a circus outside Munich – Henry’s mother and over it, and by the evening you find you
had always been fond of trapeze artists – and haven’t written two thousand words at all.
they’d been having a wonderful time until the You’ve only managed a couple of sentences,
turn had come for the human cannonball to and even they don’t strike you as being quite
perform. Something had gone wrong. Instead right. So you start again and again, crossing
of being fired into the safety net, the human out and crumpling the pages into balls, and
cannonball had been blasted, with some force, no matter how hard you try you never quite
into the third row of the stalls, killing Mr and reach the two words you’re most keen to
Mrs Parker instantly. write: the end.
The second disaster was that Henry dis- That was how it was for Henry. Eleven
covered that his parents had left him no long years of showing people around proper-
money at all. In fact, it was even worse than ties, working through the night and sleeping
that. In recent years, their business (in den- right through the weekends certainly took
tal equipment) had taken a distinct downturn their toll. By the time he was thirty, he had
and their borrowing had got so out of hand lost most of his hair and much of his eyesight.
that their home and all their possessions had He wore thick glasses and sat with a stooped
to be sold off to pay their debts. And so, at back. A poor diet and lack of exercise had
just nineteen, Henry found himself broke and both hollowed him and drained much of the
alone. colour from his skin. The honest truth was
Somehow, he needed to earn a living. that if he had gone to a funeral, no one would
With such poor A-levels that wasn’t going to have known whether he was the undertaker
be easy, but a friend of his parents’ took pity or the corpse.
on him and managed to get him a job as an But at last he finished the novel. And
estate agent. This involved showing people reading it through while chewing on a cheese
around properties in Battersea, south London rind – which was all he had been able to find
– and he hated it. He sneered at the other in the fridge – he knew he had created a
estate agents and he was jealous of the young master piece. A horror novel for children, one
couples moving into houses and flats that he hundred thousand words long and like noth-
himself couldn’t possibly afford. He was now ing anyone had ever written before.
renting a single room that backed onto the Curiously, it was the death of his parents
main railway line from Victoria Station. that had inspired him. Although he had been
But he still had his dream. More than that, shocked by their sudden end, and even more
he had the use of a desk, paper and pens, and by the disappearance of their wealth, Henry
the office computer. And so, every evening had never really missed them. His father had
when the agency closed, he would stay always been bad-tempered and his mother too
behind, tapping away into the small hours. He busy to look after him. But the way they had
was writing his novel. Two thousand words a died had given him the idea of writing a story
night, five nights a week – Henry figured it that would begin in a circus; not an ordinary
would be finished in less than three months. circus, but a world inhabited by strange crea-
In fact it took him eleven years. tures … freaks.
Writing is a strange business. You write a His novel was called Ring of Evil and told
sentence and then you read it and one word the story of a young boy who ran away from
leaps out at you. Or should that be jumps out home and got a job in the circus, only to find
at you? Or bothers you? And then you go over himself surrounded by ghosts, werewolves,
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10 Mor e Bloody Horow itz
witches and vampires. Henry described in The next day he put the manuscript
loving detail how the vampires would chase into an envelope and sent it to one of the
members of the audience into the car park, most famous publishers in London. He had
tear their throats open and drink their blood. noticed their name on a number of bestsellers
The hero’s name was Justin and in chapter and guessed they must know a thing or two
five he was turned into a vampire himself. He about children’s fiction. Three days later, he
then spent chapters six, seven and eight kill- received a polite note, thanking him for the
ing people, gradually discovering that being a manuscript and assuring him that the pub-
vampire was fun … certainly more fun than lisher would contact him shortly.
being a schoolboy. Eventually, Justin teamed The next month was a nightmare. Henry
up with the ringmaster – who was called was in such a state of nervous excitement that
Mephisto and who turned out to be the son of he couldn’t eat or sleep. When he showed
Count Dracula himself – and the two of them customers around flats, all he could think
set off on an adventure that brought them into of was blood and vampires, book signings
contact with two vampire armies, fighting for and VIP travel around the world. The next
control of the world. month was just as bad. By the third month he
The final chapter was set in New York was beginning to wonder just how long the
City, and finished with the whole of Fifth famous publisher needed to read one hundred
Avenue turning into a river of blood. At thousand words.
least a thousand people were killed as the two And then the letter came.
vampire armies joined battle in the subway
system. Mephisto himself was impaled on a Dear Mr Barker…
metal spike (the description ran to three para-
graphs) and Justin returned to England and It was a bad start. They hadn’t even got his
took over the circus. name right.
the end.
Henry typed the words in bold and under- Thank you for sending us your novel,
lined them twice. Ring of Evil. Although your work shows
That evening he left the office at the same a great deal of imagination and energy, I
time as everyone else and bought himself a regret to say that I do not think it is suitable
half-bottle of champagne which he sipped, for publication.
on his own, in his room as the trains rumbled You say that this is a work for children
past outside. He had spent twenty pounds hav- but I would be very concerned, personally,
ing the manuscript photocopied and bound, by the levels of violence and bloodshed.
and he couldn’t stop himself flicking through I think you would find that most teach-
the pages, running his hands over the cover, ers and librarians would not want this on
reading his favourite paragraphs again and their shelves. At the same time, the book is
again. He had absolutely no doubt that Ring clearly not adult enough – particularly with
of Evil would be a huge, international suc- a hero who is only twelve.
cess. He went to bed that night working on I’m afraid, therefore, that I am return-
the speech that he would make when he won ing the manuscript. I hope you won’t be too
the Carnegie Medal, which was only awarded to discouraged and wish you luck elsewhere.
the very greatest writers. The book was every- Yours sincerely,
thing he had hoped it would be … and more. Hilary Spurling – Senior Editor
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The M a n Who Kill ed Da r r en Sh a n 11
Henry read the letter once. Then he read it walked into a bookshop near Victoria Station.
again. He felt a rush of different emotions. He hadn’t even gone in to buy a book. He had
The first was disbelief. Ring of Evil had been just needed somewhere to shelter from a storm.
rejected! Disbelief was followed by dismay. But while he was inside, waiting for the rain to
All those hours of work, the weeks and the die down, his eye was caught by a pile of books
months – for nothing! Then came anger. Who on the front table. Puzzled, he picked one up.
was Hilary Spurling? What did she know? The book was called Cirque du Freak and it was
How could she be so shallow and arrogant, written by someone called Darren Shan.
to dismiss his one-hundred-thousand-word The back cover told him everything he
manuscript with a letter that didn’t even needed to know. The hero was a boy called
reach much more than dozen lines? Muttering Darren Shan – it was strange that he had the
a curse, Henry reached for a second envelope. same name as the author – who sneaked away
There were plenty of publishers in London. A from home to visit a travelling freak show.
few weeks from now, Hilary Spurling would Henry flicked through the pages. The book
be weeping bitter tears. And she would be a struck him as very short. Every chapter was
senior editor no longer, fired from her job for topped with a picture of a skull. Before he had
missing the biggest bestseller of the decade even left the shop, he had got the general idea
when it had been sitting right there in her of the story. Darren Shan’s best friend was
hands. bitten by a spider, and in order to save him
In the next twelve months, Ring of Evil was Darren had to become a vampire and…
rejected by another eight London publish- It was his story! There could be no doubt
ers as well as three literary agents. By now, about it. Of course, not all the ideas were the
Henry had left the estate agency. Everyone same. But the circus, the freaks, the vampires,
in the office knew that he’d been writing a the child hero, even some of the names were
novel and he couldn’t bear to tell them that too similar for it to be pure coincidence. For
he hadn’t managed to sell it. He got a job in example, in Shan’s book there was a character
a warehouse in Shoreditch, supplying chemi- called Mr Crepsley – almost the same name
cals to laboratories around London. There as one of the clowns (Mr Crispy) in Henry’s.
was no computer there for him to work on Shan’s best friend was called Steve. In Ring of
after hours. But nor did he want one. If his Evil a character called Steve was murdered in
first book – his masterpiece – wasn’t going to chapter twenty-seven. Henry looked at the
be published, why should he even think about cover. As he gazed at the name of the pub-
writing a second? lisher, a black fury rose up inside him. The
And that might have been the end of it. same publisher had turned down Ring of Evil.
Henry could have ended his days bitter and He bought the book and took it home,
defeated, unhappy, unmarried and alone. and that night he spent several hours read-
Perhaps he’d have been found in the corner ing Cirque du Freak, underlining passages in
of his local pub, propping up the bar with one red and circling words. As the sun rose, he
whisky too many, dreaming of what might was one hundred per cent certain. The pub-
have been. He could have worked at the lisher had taken his manuscript and given it
warehouse until he retired and then, after a to another author. This author – Darren Shan
couple of years in a dreary old people’s home, – had copied the best bits and published the
quietly died. book as his own. He had stolen the result of
But everything changed one day when he eleven years’ work!
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12 Mor e Bloody Horow itz
And to make things worse, Shan was I could give you a hundred
getting brilliant reviews. The next morning more examples.
Henry rang in to say he would be late for work. I would like to know who it
He scuttled off to an internet café down the was at your publisher who
road and Googled everything he could about showed you my manuscript and
Cirque du Freak. The critics were unanimous. whose idea it was to steal it
Here was a well-crafted and completely origi- and make it your own. We will
nal story which would attract even the most discuss how much money you
unwilling readers. Another fourteen volumes should pay me later.
planned, and publishers were snapping them Yours sincerely,
up all around the world. A major Hollywood Henry Parker
film was on the way. Overnight, Darren Shan
had become a star. It took three weeks for Henry to receive a
Henry went straight back to his room, reply, and when it came it wasn’t from Darren
sat down and composed a letter, writing Shan at all. It was from someone called
with a pen that kept leaking ink, in jagged Fenella Jones who worked at the publishing
handwriting that lay on the page like dead house. It read:
spiders.
“Dear Mr Shan,” he began. Dear Mr Parker,
Thank you for your letter. I can assure
I have just read your book, you that Cirque du Freak is a completely
“Cirque du Freak” and have original piece of work. Mr Shan wrote it
noticed many similarities to a without any discussion with us and we are
book of mine, “Ring of Evil”. My very proud to have published it.
book is set in a circus, just I am sorry if you feel that there are
like yours. My book has vampires similarities to your own book.
in it, just like yours. My book With best wishes,
also has a boy hero who is only Fenella Jones – Editorial Assistant
two years younger than yours.
And I could point to several And that was it. No apology. No explanation.
phrases in your book that also No promise of money. Just a few lines dismiss-
appear in mine. For example, on ing him as if he would simply crawl away and
page 33, you say, “It was Friday forget the whole thing.
evening, the end of the school Over the next six months, Henry wrote
week…” Almost exactly the same nine more letters, and when The Vampire’s
words – though in a different Assistant, the second book in the series, was
order – appear on page 297 of published and was even more successful than
my manuscript! Again, on page the first, he wrote eleven more. He got no
124, you describe your teeth as reply to any of them. It seemed that Darren
“clattering”. That description Shan and his publishers had decided to pre-
is obviously taken from page tend he didn’t exist.
311 of my book which describes As The Saga of Darren Shan grew and
window shutters in exactly the became ever more popular, Henry bought all
same way. the books and went through each one, not
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The M a n Who Kill ed Da r r en Sh a n 13
once but several times, making notes in a pile fallen into a quicksand of hatred and despair.
of exercise books that he kept by his bed. Of He wanted to lash out one last time before he
course, it was easy enough to convince himself was sucked under completely.
that certain words and phrases had been cop- But how to do it?
ied from his novel, and even when the saga Shan made occasional appearances in
went off in a completely different direction London where he would sign books for long
from Ring of Evil he was able to persuade him- queues of his devoted readers. It would be
self that Shan had changed his plans because easy enough for Henry to join the line with
he was afraid of being sued. Or maybe now he some sharp implement concealed beneath his
was stealing his ideas from somebody else. jacket. That would be appropriate. There was
At the same time, Henry began to collect plenty of blood in Shan’s books already. Henry
as much information as he could about Darren would add a few pints more.
Shan. He learned that the writer was surpris- But despite everything, he didn’t want to
ingly young and lived in Northern Ireland. He go to prison. It wouldn’t be fair. After all, he
cut out pictures of him from newspapers. Shan was the victim here and he would only be
was short and stocky, with closely cut hair and giving Shan what he deserved. And he cer-
a face that was as round as a pumpkin. Henry tainly didn’t want to spend the rest of his
thought he looked more like a footballer than life surrounded by common criminals. Henry
a professional author. It seemed he had once thought about it and decided. He was an art-
worked as a teacher. He visited Shan’s web- ist. He would use his talents to commit the
site and began to follow his progress through perfect murder. And one day, maybe, he would
Britain and around the world. It soon became write about it. Yes. He would have to change
clear that there wasn’t a country on the planet a few names and places, but killing Darren
where the books weren’t doing well. And all Shan might actually make a good subject for
the time Henry could feel jealousy, like a can- a book.
cer, creeping through him. Cirque du Freak It wasn’t going to be easy. Henry had to
was his book. It was his idea. He should have kill someone he had never met before – and
been the one enjoying the fame, the wealth, probably never would meet. He had to do it
the jet-setting life. from a distance. Yes. That was it. Almost at
Henry would never be able to remem- once an idea began to take shape in his mind.
ber the exact moment when he decided to Like many successful authors, Shan
murder Darren Shan. It wasn’t an idea that received fan letters and mentioned on his
simply arrived – a sudden inspiration. It was website that he tried to reply to as many as
more like a growing awareness that murder possible. Henry had already written to him
was the only answer. He wanted to punish once and had received a reply from some edi-
the success ful writer. But more than that, he torial assistant. But suppose he were to write
needed to get rid of him, to stop him existing. again, pretending to be a twelve-year-old
As far as Henry could see, it was the only way boy…? Shan would have to write back. And
to allow his own life to continue. Without that would be it. It would be easy. Nobody
Shan, there would be no more books in the would ever be able to pin anything on Henry.
Cirque du Freak series. And then, just possi- The very next day, Henry stole a pair
bly, there might be room for Ring of Evil. But of rubber gloves from work – the sort used
the truth was, Henry no longer cared whether to protect workers’ hands from dangerous
his own novel was published or not. He had chemicals. He would need them to make sure
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