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Gardener was mortified. His stomach ached, his legs felt weak. “How do you know all these things?”
“Each of the people killed was a member of the local watch committee and had been killed by an independent film producer because they had banned his film for being too horrific. The man was totally incensed because he was unbalanced. But the police couldn’t catch him in the film because he was a master of disguise.”
“What film are we talking about?” asked Gardener, as if he didn’t know.
“A film called Imperfection, written by William Henry Corndell, and produced by his father, Wallace.”
“Have you seen the film?”
“Yes.”
“Where?” Gardener asked.
“An underground copy. The film never made it to the big screen. The one the censors issued an ‘X’ certificate for was not the film distributed around Leeds. Therefore, the local watch committee that your father sat on banned the film immediately, told him in no uncertain terms he had to make cuts. It was too violent, too graphic; he had to cut it and then re-present it.”
Gardener glanced at his father. “But you weren’t there that night. You didn’t see the film.”
“Corndell obviously doesn’t know that,” replied Martin Brown.
“So Corndell made a film back in the Seventies and has basically lived it out since then?”
“Sounds like it. He’s killed everyone the same way as he did in the film and used quotes from Chaney’s films because he’s obsessed with the man. Three down, one to go, and we all know who that is.” Martin Brown stared at Malcolm.
“Do you mean to say I’ve been going out, unaware that my life was at stake?” asked Malcolm.
“Actually, no,” replied Gardener.
“What do you mean?” asked Malcolm.
“You’ve been under twenty-four-hour surveillance for some time. Every move you’ve made has been watched and monitored.”
Malcolm’s bottom jaw fell open and nearly hit the table. After he’d regained his composure, he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I couldn’t, Dad. Firstly, we’ve never been sure of our facts from the beginning, and secondly, because of that we didn’t want you worryi
ng unnecessarily. Thirdly, we had to make sure everything you did was natural, so we could lull the killer into making an attempt and therefore expose himself.”
“But I could have been killed.”
“No you couldn’t, we know what we’re doing.”
“I’ve never seen anyone following me,” said Malcolm. “Corndell could have taken me anytime he wanted.”
“He couldn’t,” argued Gardener. “You were being watched, and the reason you didn’t know was because you weren’t meant to; and the reason you didn’t see him was also because you weren’t meant to. That’s how good a job we’ve been doing.”
Malcolm didn’t reply.
Gardener grabbed his mobile and scrolled his way through the contacts list.
“What are you doing?” asked Martin Brown.
“I think it’s time I spoke to our friend William.”
“I have his landline number,” said Martin.
“It’s okay,” smiled Gardener. “We’ll ring his mobile.”
“But he doesn’t have one,” argued Martin Brown.
