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Copyright © 2021 by Daniel Hurst

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by an electronic or mechanical means, including information storage or retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

The Role Model















































A Letter from the Author

Also By Daniel Hurst

About The Author

“If you can’t be a good example then you’ll just have to be a horrible warning.”

Catherine Aird


You want to go deep when you’re digging a grave. It’s no good going shallow and thinking that’s enough. It’s not, and the body will eventually be discovered, probably by an elderly chap walking his dog early in the morning.

Isn’t that how all bodies get found?

It seems to be. But not this one. This body will never be found. That’s because I’m going to make this hole deep enough.

How deep?

Four feet should do it.

I know the common depth for a grave in society seems to have been set at six feet, but that’s overkill. You don’t need to go that far and can get away with four. This will not only save you a lot of physical exertion when it comes to digging but saves you something much more precious too.


It goes without saying that the less time you have to spend standing beside a dead body, the better. Get it in the damn ground and get the hell out of there.

That’s why four feet is the sweet spot. It’s not so deep that you’ll be digging all night, but it’s not so shallow that Mr Gibson’s dog will start pawing at it in the morning.

By my fairly limited calculations, I think the hole I have just dug is four feet which means I’m done. But I scoop out one more spade full of soil to be sure.

Now it’s time to put the body in and get it covered up. Depending on how much the victim weighs, this might be easier said than done. Let’s hope you used common sense and dug the hole right next to the body, so you don’t have to drag it. You’ve already wasted enough time, and those dogwalkers will be out any minute now.

With a big push and a lot of heavy breathing, the body is now in the hole.

It’s time to start shovelling again. Get that soil on that body and get out of there. Don’t worry about making it perfect. Just make sure it’s covered and looks like the ground in the surrounding area.

If you’ve created a mound, you’ve done it wrong.

Pat the soil down. Make it as flat as possible. Throw some dead branches and leaves over the top. Make it look just like every other part of this wood.

Now you’re ready to go, but before you do, for heaven’s sake, look around and make sure you haven’t left anything behind. The first time I buried a body, I almost left the stupid spade sticking up in the soil over the grave.

I might as well have put a headstone there.

Once you are sure that you have got everything, it’s time to leave. Take a second to look around. You can never come back here again.

You must never return to the scene of a crime.

Put the shovel in the boot and get back behind the wheel of your car. Your shoulders will be aching from all the digging, but now is not the time for rest. You need to drive home. Stick to the speed limit. It goes without saying that you do not want to attract the attention of the police at this time.

Once you are home, you will start to feel a little better. The main reason for that is water. You can clean now. Clean the spade. Clean your body.

Clean your mind.

Get in bed and try to get some rest. There’s no way in hell you will be able to sleep unless you are a sociopath so maybe take it as a good sign if you spend the rest of the night staring at the ceiling.

Eventually, the sun will come up and force you to start your day, and this might be the hardest part of all.

Now you have to pretend like everything is normal.

Go to work. See friends. Do chores. Act as if nothing has changed.

Act as if you didn’t just kill somebody and bury them while the rest of the town was sleeping.

If you have done things right, stayed calm and got lucky, you will get away with it. If not, then shit happens, and hopefully, the judge takes pity on you. Plead manslaughter, and you might be out in ten years. Do not admit to murder, even if that was exactly what it was.

When this first happened, time was your biggest enemy. But if you have got away with it, time will now be your best friend. Days will become weeks, which turn into months, which then result in years. They say time heals all wounds, which is a load of nonsense, but it does make things a little easier.

Just about.

At first, you won’t be able to stop thinking about what you did. It will seem miraculous when you can go a full minute without remembering it. But eventually, you will be able to go hours without thinking about that dead and decomposed body in the ground. Sleep will be a relief when it comes.

Unless you get the nightmares.

Good luck with those.

But whatever happens, you will never be able to forget about it. Just like those bones will always be stuck in the ground, so too will the memory of your crimes be lodged in your brain. All you can do is try and get on with your life, while you still have one.


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