AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter 46
Thursday 1st April
‘You … you can’t be. You’re in charge. You’re running the investigation …’
She’s joking. Shemustbe joking. But she doesn’t look like she’s joking. She’s stopped smiling now; she’s even let go of my arm, but the way she’s looking at me …
‘Steph, please …’
She shakes her head slowly, her lip curled in disgust, her eyes cold, as if I’m something unpleasant to behold.
‘I am in charge, yes. I’ve been in charge of this from the very beginning. Just not in the way you all thought.’
The doorbell is ringing now, the paramedics obviously trying to gain access, and I turn to look at Pete, deathly still on the bed, Jess too,twopeople now who very urgently need medical help – or maybe it’s already too late, and even as I’m thinking this, I’m also wondering how the hellI’mgoing to get out of this nightmare, because I believe her now. I believe that Steph, DCI Steph Warden, is the killer. I can see it in her eyes, the menace, the hatred. The madness. I can smell her sweat, and now as I back away, trying to move towards the doorway, she’s bending down, picking up the trophy again, and I know it will only take her a couple of seconds to swing it at me and bring me down too, and I have no idea what I’m going to do. None.
And I thought I could talk my way out of this? Faced with a crazed murderer? What the hell was I thinking? How deluded was I?I think, and I’m panicking now, my chest so tight that every breath is painful, my palms slick with sweat.
I need to talk to her, I have to buy some time, because surely the other officers in the house across the road are still watching? Surely, if the paramedics can’t get in, the police will come and investigate? I just need a minute or two, and they’ll be here, won’t they?
‘Why? Tell me why, at least,’ I stutter. ‘If you really are going to kill me, what difference does it make? Why me, why Lisa and Jane and David? What’s the point of it all?’
She smiles again, swinging the trophy slowly back and forth, back and forth. I can see the muscles in her forearms bulging, and I know there’s no way I can fight her off, absolutely none. She’s far stronger than me, far fitter.
Time. Buy some time.
‘They’ll be here in a minute or two,’ she says. ‘They’ll think it was Jess, you see. I’ll tell them I arrived just in time to see her attacking you, so I had to whack her to try to save your life. Unfortunately, I was too late. You’re dead, and she’s dead too. I’ll check that in a minute – I think she’s gone, but if not I’ll finish her off, along with your friend Pete. We chose that lovely food box we sent you together – did you enjoy your last supper, by the way?’
She smirks, and my head swims.
‘Jess told me how much he loves that awful cheese, so I popped some strong sedatives in it for him, but of course it was her who delivered it to you, so they’ll think that was her too. And then, while he was unconscious, she strangled him. That’s what they’ll think …’
She laughs, then her face grows serious.
‘I’m sorry about Pete, really. Collateral damage. But he would insist on staying here with you, playing the hero, so …’
She shrugs. From the bed, there’s a crackle, and then a tinny voice. Jess’s radio. Someone trying to get hold of her, wondering what’s going on. Steph turns, stares at it for a couple of seconds, then shrugs again and turns back to me. My head is reeling, trying to take it all in, trying to understand what she’s saying, and now, with horror, I realise that she’s going to get away with it. Because she is, isn’t she? She must have realised, when we didn’t answer our phones, that her plan had worked, that Pete must have eaten that drugged cheese, so she sent Jess over to kick off the final act. In a couple of minutes’ time, the other police officers will be in here and they’ll find three dead bodies and Steph, the woman who’s been doing such a sterling job leading the serial killer investigation. And when she tells them that Pete was already dead and Jess was in the process of killing me when she arrived, well ofcoursethey’ll believe her, won’t they?
Oh God, oh God, oh God …
‘Why? You still haven’t told me?Why?’ I scream, and the doorbell is ringing again. When will someone come? When? Please, please …
‘Just eleven per cent of serial killers are women, did you know that? That’s the most recent estimate, anyway,’ she says.
She looks animated suddenly, as if she’s a university lecturer imparting some fascinating facts. She’s still swinging the trophy, and my gaze is darting from it to her face, up, down, up down.
‘I found that fascinating as a child – murder in general, but serial killers in particular. It’s why I joined the police. And then I worked two serial killer cases, and you know what I realised? I realised that they were stupid. Two stupid men, who killed and then got caught. And it made me wonder if I could do better. I wondered if it would be possible to kill people literally right under the noses of the police and get away with it. To even tell them who the victims were going to be in advance. I mean, obviously I made it a little tricky for them with the earlier three. But you – well, they had the name, the day, the place, and they’ve still screwed it up, haven’t they? Thanks for not wanting cameras or listening devices in the house by the way. I could have disabled them, but it would have made things trickier. That was a great help.’
She laughs again, her eyes bright now, excitement flashing in them. I inch backwards, a tiny movement she doesn’t seem to notice.
‘I mean, of course Jess gets the glory for the first four. Well, five now. But this is just the start, you know? Maybe I’ll send another diary after today. Maybe I’ll do something different next time. Because this is far from over. It’s only just beginning. It’s a game, andIknow how to play it.’
There’s a voice coming from the radio onherbelt now, but she doesn’t seem to hear it. I take another tiny step away from her, but she’s still talking, her eyes feverishly bright, the trophy swinging in ever bigger arcs, and I wonder at what point she’ll swing it at my head, and my stomach contracts. The doorbell has stopped ringing, and I wonder if that means the paramedics are now seeking advice from the police, and the police are wondering why nobody in this house is responding, and if someone will be here soon to find out why. And then I think about the front door being closed, and how they’ll have to break it down, and how that will take more time, and I don’t have time, I don’t. Time is running out so quickly now …
‘Ah, you asked why, didn’t you?’ she says. ‘I’m so sorry, I failed to answer your question. Well, this is why.’
Abruptly, she stops moving her arm, the trophy hanging at her side now, and in the sudden stillness I think for a second that once again, I see a tiny movement from the inert bodies on the bed. I want to look, but I keep my eyes locked to hers, waiting, wanting her to keep talking, because if she’s talking she’s not killing me. And then I think how ridiculous this all is, how impossible it can be that this is real, and yet … it is, isn’t it?
‘Tell me,’ I whisper.
