‘Not that I remember. I still don’t know how I got outside in the yard—and with my coat on, which was just as well. Last night wasn’t cold, yet…’
‘Has William got your house key?’
‘Yes, of course. Why?’
‘Nothing,’ and now she was nibbling at her thumb. ‘Mary Ann, you know you said about knowing people?’
‘Yes.’
‘I just wondered. Does William work?’
‘No, he doesn’t have to, although he works to keep himself busy. He is independently wealthy. Why? Are you suddenly interested in him? Do you want to meet him?’
‘No.’ Dreams which turned into nightmares pelted images in her mind.
‘I’ve got your Xanax for you. Do you want to take it now?’
‘Yes please.’ Cecelia took the tablet and palmed it into her pocket. ‘I’ve never told you how grateful I am for taking care of me.’
‘It was no problem, Cecelia; it’s been a pleasure with you being here. Oh yes, William is all very well, but those special chats we have had, it’s impossible to have them with a man and especially William. Would you like anything to eat?’
‘No. No thank you. I’m going to take a trip home this afternoon, to make an inventory of what I need, stock up the cupboards, and get some more linen. My stuff is still unavailable for me in Phoebe’s apartment until they’ve finished with the investigation.’
‘Yes, I understand. Do you want William to drive you home?’
‘No. Thank you,’ and then she thought. ‘Why? Is he here then?’
‘Yes, now I remember. When I eventually came in from the yard, I found him sleeping on the sofa. I don’t remember him entering the house,’ she frowned, struggling. ‘When he left just ten minutes ago before you came in, he said he couldn’t find me anywhere. I told him that he should have looked out in the yard. Oh, Cecelia, I think we went over the top. I had a banger of a headache. But serves me right, I suppose.’
Creepy. That dreams sometimes could be so real, and yet, were they only dreams? Dreams which run as real-life were the worst, teasing seductively. William was the problem; he made her feel uncomfortable. There was something about him that was abnormal. Mary Ann might be forgiving of his eccentricities, but it didn’t mean that she should as well.
‘I’m going now,’ Cecelia came back into the kitchen, but no one was there. ‘Mary Ann.’ A figure passed across the kitchen window. It had to be William or was it her mad imagination.
Leaving a quick note, Cecelia stepped out into the blinding sunlight to escape.
‘Do you want a lift?’ William leaned against his car; long legs crossed at his heels. He grinned, he liked her.
‘No. I’ll be fine, thank you.’
‘How are you going to get home then?’
So, Mary Ann had spoken to William about this.
‘By taxi.’ She didn’t look at him, but neither did she move. Was he mentally undressing her? Holding his head back and imagining how she looked; she knew the signs. ‘I didn’t see Mary Ann.’
‘No, you wouldn’t. You know Mary Ann.’ He grinned, still admiring her. ‘Look, I can give you a lift—it’s no problem to me unless you find me offensive.’
‘No, it’s not that. I just… want to try myself out. I’ve been dependent for too long…’
‘Look,’ he said, straightening himself up. ‘Giving you a lift is hardly going to take away your independence, is it? Besides, Mary Ann suggested I should offer. She’s very upset, as you know, but she still wants to make certain you’re okay.’
Hounded into a corner.
‘Very well—and thank you,’ her independence was making her appear stupid.
Swiftly he came around and opened the rear door.
‘I thought you would like to sit in the back. There’ll be more room for you.’
He was laughing at her, openly mocking her. She didn’t trust him. He grinned, but that was okay by him.
Just a car journey, nothing more. Many are the time she had stepped inside a cab with an unknown driver. If Mary Ann knew about the trip, then he shouldn’t do anything to her. Rapists always work on surprise.
Rapist? Could he be the Alandra Slasher?
Let’s be sensible about this. For goodness’ sake, she still wasn’t in her proper mind and prone to hysteria. William was Mary Ann’s boyfriend; the man she trusted. The Xanax had really muddled up her head.
For a while, the two traveled in silence. Eyes on stalks, Cecelia watched the journey, still not reassured when William took the familiar roads to her house. Just how did he know where she lived? Once in a while, he glanced to his mirror. Dark brown eyes separated from the rest of him made him look surreal. But this was a perception from a damaged mind, drugged and mutilated was bound to distort.
Oh, God, help me.
‘I’ve done well this far,’ he looked into his mirror to catch her reflection. ‘Now you are going to have to tell me exactly where you live.’
She was sure he was smiling at her. This was a big joke to him.
‘If you take a right here, three blocks to the traffic lights,’ she said, leaning forward.
‘So, this is your home territory,’ he turned the wheel. They were getting closer.
‘If you don’t mind, you can drop me off here. I’ve seen a person I know. I want to have a quick word with her. If you don’t mind.’
He looked in his mirror again and smiled. He knew she was lying.
‘What the lady wants, the lady gets,’ he carried on grinning moving his car over to the sidewalk. And then he pulled over. ‘You don’t like me, do you?’
‘I don’t know enough about you to make a comment like that.’
‘I know you don’t like me.’
‘It’s nothing to do with me. Like I said before, you are Mary Ann’s friend, and as long as you are good to her and take care of her that’s all that should matter.’
‘Do you think you could tell me why you don’t like me?’ He was leaning around to take a better look at her.
Last night’s dream now drew a brighter vision. While Mary Ann and she were intoxicated, he had taken his opportunity. Slipped up to her room to watch the free show, enjoying her undressing and then staggering into the shower. He was in the room with her knowing she was drunk and drugged, it was then he decided he would have her.
‘If you value your relationship with Mary Ann, I suggest you keep your hands to yourself.’
He shrugged.
‘Better let you get out to catch up with your friend.’
She couldn’t get the door open quick enough. But before she climbed out, he stretched across and grabbed hold of her hand.
‘It was completely innocent. Nothing happened except a little bit of appreciation.’
Her eyes matched his, but hers were dangerous. So, it wasn’t a dream. He had run his creepy hands over her and gratifying himself within her. Was it when she screamed that he withdrew? Oh, how dirty she felt.
‘Do you want me to pick you up tonight?’ He called just before she slammed the door.
‘No.’
‘You’re coming back tonight, aren’t you?’ William reversed the car to talk to her.
‘I don’t know.’ She didn’t want to look at him. He had touched her without her agreement. This was rape?
‘Cecelia, please don’t do this…’
Those mellow notes in his voice which lay caresses one after another was wearing thin. It made Cecelia think. Did she have the power to worry him? Was he now concerned that she would tell Mary Ann? He should be anxious.
‘Cecelia, I’m sorry. But don’t do this to Mary Ann. She genuinely cares about you.’
‘You should have thought about it before. There is something seriously wrong with you.’
‘You don’t understand. Mary Ann goes so far and then she freezes.’
‘Which means that you can do what you like to others—and without their permission. Do you know what this makes you?’ Cecelia bending down hissed through t
he driving seat window. That word was on her lip but denied access. ‘If she knew what you’ve been doing…’
‘Yes, you’re right. I’ve been stupid. It was just a bit of fun…’
‘I’m not laughing. If I were to mention it to certain people…’
‘Okay, I get your meaning. I thought though,’ he frowned eyeing her as if still uncertain. ‘I thought—I’m attracted to you, Cecelia.’
‘I don’t do things like that.’
‘Okay, I get the message. But please don’t tell Mary Ann,’ William called after her fast disappearing smart and angry figure.
How disgustingly dirty she felt. Touching her everywhere—hands everywhere.
Loud noise from the traffic and indignation covered up the footsteps running behind her. William chased after Cecelia.
‘Wait,’ he pulled her around.
Under attack, Cecelia’s reaction was quick, she slapped William’s face leaving a large red handprint on his cheek. Shocked his hand went automatically to his face before tottering backward.
‘You hit me.’
‘Yes, and if you don’t leave me alone, I’ll do it again. I don’t care what Mary Ann says or does to you; I am going to the police.’ Shaking from anger and fear, Cecelia meant every word she said.
People passing stopped to stare at this warring couple. Aware, William didn’t like the attention, it wasn’t his thing.
‘I am so sorry Cecelia, I can explain myself, please let me.’ His hand was still on his cheek, but his brown eyes were frightened. With his other hand, he needed to diffuse this situation. Worried, he pawed the air without touching her trying to calm her down. ‘Just come with me for a drink, a coffee…’
‘You think I would go with you after what you had tried to do to me? I wasn’t so out of it that I didn’t remember what you did. You’d better be careful with what is happening now especially with the Alandra Slasher.’
‘Are you all right mam?’ a passerby, a tall man, square shoulders whose dark face stole a wealth of injuries was taking a heavy look at William.
‘Yes, she’s my girlfriend. We are having a fight,’ said William now smiling with the confidence of conceit. This man should mind his own business.
‘I am not his girlfriend, and neither am I all right,’ Cecelia turned her frightened and angry eyes at the passerby.
‘You should leave the lady alone,’ the man said slowly. He was taller and more well-built. An oak keel belonging to a galleon stood between Cecelia and William.
‘Cecelia, please. I’m sorry. Don’t tell Mary Ann; it will break her heart.’ Once more glancing up at the man, William walked steadily and angrily back to his car. Punching footsteps of defeat.
‘Are you all right now?’ asked the concerned man whose troubled eyes reminded her of Mr. Davis’s. ‘Do you know him?’ His deep voice was soft yet tangible taking every word with kindness and laying it to rest.
‘Yes, I thought I knew him, but I will be all right now. And thank you for your kindness.’
He stood there while she hurried embarrassingly away watching her like a kindly shepherd who watches his sheep through the night.
She wanted to get home and have a wash, to rid herself of his touch. Whatever Mary Ann might think, William was dangerous. There was no way that she was going back to see Mary Ann. If she did, then she would be an idiot by putting herself right back into his hands. He needed reporting. But it couldn’t be her.
Walking along the sideway, hysterical with fear that William was still watching her. Perhaps he had followed, feign that he was going off, but turned around and doubled back. He could have parked his car to stalk her.
‘This was how it was meant to be,’ she remembered the man from her dream telling her as he rubbed himself up and down her naked body. ‘None of the others meant anything to me, I promise you,’ his brown eyes stared into hers. ‘We will be together until the end of time, Cecelia. And you will be my woman, and I will be your man.’
He ran his hands favorably around her small but ample breast, lips mouthing her nipples where an appetite for her started by slow sucking. Pleasurable at first and still believing it was a dream until she looked down to find this dark head at her breast. Once again, she shuddered. She could see him now. He had touched her where she should not have been touched without her permission.
‘Oh,’ she cried, her footsteps hurrying until she was running. ‘Get out of my mind,’ she ran her hand in front of her eyes to rid herself from his stalking eyes.
Cars screeched, a sure collision course, but they missed her. In the road, Cecelia looked about, mystified by what had happened.
‘What’s going on with you Cecelia?’ asked Detective Travis, eyes curled with anger and then exasperation.
She was in the Alandra Police Department, one of the off-duty officers had witnessed the incident and recognized Cecelia. Taking control of the near accident, he brought Cecelia in.
‘Haven’t you already put yourself in as much danger as you possibly can?’ Detective Travis sighed and then shook her head. ‘You know, you are more trouble than the criminals. You’ve tried to kill me and now you are trying to kill yourself. Is this some sort of record? What are we going to do with you? In this state of mind, you are without doubt destructive, I can’t think what to do with you.’ She was tapping her pen on top of her notebook. ‘But I know I can talk to you because you’re a very good listener, Cecelia.’ Detective Travis dropped the formalities. ‘You’ve got that rare and unexplained quality where people open up to you.’
‘I’m sorry,’ whispered Cecelia.
‘No, no, don’t apologize. Sometimes we have to respect each other’s inadequacies. Do you know what’s wrong with the world? It’s color. People don’t see people, they see color. I see you as white and I know you see me as black, but I’m also female.’
Cecelia smiled.
‘I’m also awkward. I like to do things my way because I believe it is the right way. I’m not as clever as some, but I’m a lot smarter than most. I believe in God as I believe in justice. Some bad people in this world dance to their own tune—for whatever reasons. I sometimes wonder if people will ever get along with each other. Anyhow, I’m troubled.’
This wasn’t the right time for Cecelia to enter her voice.
Travis looked to see if Cecelia was paying attention to her.
‘We didn’t tell the public that one of the children, the thirteen-year-old survived the attack. Perhaps we should have done. If we did, then two innocent but stupid men, John Wanton and Art Perry would be still alive. Oh,’ she slunk her head into her hand. ‘Yes, we make mistakes.’
Surely, to Cecelia’s thinking, this was good news that a young girl had survived the madman’s attack.
‘She awoke from her induced coma just yesterday evening, and we were able to get a description of her attacker this morning.’
‘That is good, isn’t it?’
Detective Travis's sorrowful eyes looked up at Cecelia.
‘I shouldn’t mind that he’s a black man, but somehow, I do. But evil is evil I suppose except that it seems to be another winning point for the whites to score against the black.’
‘No, I disagree with you there; people are people, I believe we still are afraid of each other, and even ourselves. But I must admit, I never thought the Slasher would be a black person. I always instinctively felt he would be white. Are you certain about this?’
‘Yes, the thirteen-year-old white girl came too for a little while,’ said Detective Travis staring down at her notes, ‘and she saw a black man holding her in his arms staring down at her, she gave us a fair description of him. I never thought he would ever be black.’
‘But that doesn’t make any sense. Cradling a young girl when his intentions are always to murder.’
‘He was almost caught this time. Perhaps that’s the explanation.’
21
The Alandra Slasher’s profile was now in all the newspapers across the West Coast. One half of
the page was devoted to his face, a black and white sketch. Let every black man beware, Detective Travis was doodling a heavy lined box on her notepad; it was the coffin for all the black people in Alandra.
The Slasher was estimated to be round about six feet tall, prematurely lined, and put in his thirties with tightly curled short hair which was also tainted with grey. Brown eyes and a square chin, a broad nose, and full lips, his color was described to be mid-brown. A face that looked to be intelligent and gentle, but that’s where everyone had been fooled because he was a killer.
Staring at the likeness, Cecelia felt she had seen this face before and not so long ago. It was the face of the man who had stepped in to help Cecelia with William. No, this was no killer and yet, he had been sighted after every murder. A black man and a white woman. Was there some connection? Were they working together?
So much had happened just lately and none of it was good. As if life had got stuck in one long groove of disaster. Looking at the faces in everyday life, everyone looked depressed, or was it because she felt depressed?
Her opportunity to speak to Detective Travis again about her concern with Mary Ann had marched on by; Detective Travis already had enough on her plate, and besides, her problems compared to the rest of the world were trivial. Rationally, she should leave Mary Ann alone, there was only so many problems Cecelia could take on her own back. An involvement that had its roots based firmly in guilt. Look after yourself, girl, she heard this voice telling her. The voice was right, but conscience dictated otherwise. If anything, she should alert Mary Ann about William. He was dangerous; mad thoughts strayed to the idea that he might be the Alandra Slasher. Yet, it was a leap in the dark, and ill-conceived idea with nothing to back up her thinking. Because the young girl had now given the identification of the real Slasher, and he was black.
‘Why don’t you stay a few days in one of our cells,’ offered Travis on impulse.
‘What?’
‘It just came to mind that you might feel safe in the police station. It’s a pretty basic cell, but it will serve you until you get your head together. At least I’ll know where you are,’ she grinned. ‘It would please me and stop me worrying about you. Although worrying about you seems to be an occupational hazard.’
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