Amy Cooper Forever

by Craig Mullins

  “Hi, the specials tonight are Braised lamb shank in mint gravy, and Duck a l’Orange, both come with a creamy mash and seasonal vegetables.” He recited as if reading from a script.

  “Thank you.” Sian said taking the menus and handing one to Philip. The waiter walked away and when he was out of earshot she said “He was a happy chappie, it looks like he really enjoys his work.” Philip laughed a little too hard.

  “Is there a budget we have to work to for the meal, what I mean is, is there a limit to what you can claim? I am quite happy to pay for my meal.” He looked nervous as he said it, he didn’t really know what the etiquette was for this sort of thing. He was a young PC having dinner in a fancy hotel with a DI from CID.

  “Philip just relax, order whatever you want, just imagine this as a night out where everything is free.” She said as she raised her glass. “Here’s to the brass picking up the tab.” He raised his to meet hers and laughed, this time a more sincere laugh, he was going to enjoy the evening.

  TWENTY

  Tuesday 31st October 2017

  “So it’s Halloween, they should give tours of this place, talk about scare the little fuckers to death.” Chef said. “We could all have little plaques outside our cells stating what we did, when we did it, how much we enjoyed it, that sort of thing. They could ask us questions. Don’t you think that would be fun Pinky?”

  “I gotta say Chef you have one sick and twisted sense of humour.”

  “This from the man who, because the girl he loved didn’t love him back, decided the only course of action was to take her to a holiday chalet. Where he proceeded to rip her heart out to make sure she never loved anyone else and eat it just to make sure. And you call me one sick fuck.” Chef laughed so hard he thought his guts were going to burst.

  “Very amusing, I still believe I was justified in my actions, what justification was there in all the young girls you ate?” Pinky questioned.

  “Economics, as simple as that. I found a market where people were happy to pay a premium for what I was selling. I never forced anyone to attend one of my meals, in fact quite the opposite was often true. Invariably I would get a phone call from a regular requesting a banquet. True, I was always happy to oblige.”

  “How many ‘Banquets’ did you have, do you know?” Pinky asked.

  “Somewhere in the region of twenty-five to thirty.”

  “So you killed and ate that many young girls?”

  “Of course not, some banquets required three maybe four girls, if I was having an international cuisine night it could run to as many as ten – different nationalities produce different flavours. I would always try to be true to their homeland. For instance I had one evening where the request was for a group of Muslims. I had to convert to Islam to become a Muslim myself in order that I could slaughter the three young virgins they had decided upon. This was the only banquet I didn’t supply the meat for, and the only one where the guests were present at the slaughter. It was arranged that a few days prior to the meal the guests would arrive, I would put them up in the stately home where I held the meals. They would bring the girls with them, they seemed oblivious to the reason they were there. I didn’t ask questions and they never told me why the girls thought that they were there.

  When the time came, one of the elder Muslims escorted each girl in turn to the special room I had for just such occasions. Once in the room he ordered the girl strip. I dread to think what she must have thought was going to happen, she stood in this room about twenty feet square, metal tables round the edge, a large wooden butchers block in the middle. A large joist crossed the room from which hung chains each with a large meat hook at the end. Below them was a drain with metal grill covering it. Once the girl was naked the fear in her eyes was evident, I genuinely felt sorry for her. Normally I put the girl to sleep with an injection so that they’re relaxed; it makes for much more tender meat. But with these girls I tied a rope around their ankles before attaching them to a chain and hoisting them up. They would hang upside down for a couple of minutes, there neck level with my head. I would then recite the words ‘Bismillah Allahu Akbar’ as I used a sharp knife to severe the windpipe, oesophagus and jugular veins in one swift motion and let the body drain of blood. Once the body was drained it was then moved to another room ready for the next slaughter as Islamic law does not allow the next offering to see the previous one.

  So within an hour we had three Halal virgin girls ready to cook. A couple of nights later a feast was prepared of traditional food, and despite the expert cooking the meat was not as tender as it should have been. Although I’d explained that this was a possibility due to the fear the girls felt at the time of slaughter they still insisted that it was done their way.

  I vowed after that I would never perform a Halal slaughter again.”

  Pinky could hear that this had upset Chef, although to most people he was a monster and evil to the core, there was a certain standard he stood by. After hearing of what he had put himself through for the sake of religion he had even more respect for him. Nathan Sabine a.k.a. Chef had standards. “Did you ever host any Halloween parties?” He tried to lighten the mood, he was stunned that there had been no comments from any of the other cells, there was deathly silence.

  “A couple, why do you ask?”

  “Just curious, I thought it would be the ideal time for such a macabre event.”

  “The guests never saw the banquets as macabre, to them it was a chance to sample a delicacy very few would ever get to taste. It was an evening of fine dining, good company with like-minded souls. They didn’t see it as the murder of an innocent for them to feast upon. No, to them it was no different to eating Rose veal or the finest Wagyu beef steak. I dare say that if they had to kill and prepare their own there isn’t one of my clients that would have ever tasted human flesh. I provided a service that they were more than happy to pay a lot of money for.”

  Pinky looked down at his blank sheet of paper, not a lot to show for his so called day of writing, much of the day had passed by like the past hour, inmates recounting some of their passions. Not that he minded, for some reason writing just wasn’t on his mind today, he kept thinking back to the fact it was Halloween, he had a mental block about where the book was going and he knew he would get to the chapter soon where he would tell the story of Amy Cooper’s last night of living, but he also knew that before he could get to that he had to relive the rejection he felt when certain aspects of her life conspired against them and their happiness together.

  With his paper in front of him he decided he had to make a start, he might get an hour or so of writing done, then tomorrow would be another day. His aim was to get all the horrible stuff down on paper by the end of the week. He decided there and then that chapter seven would be dedicated to the events leading up to her betrayal and chapter eight would be the betrayal itself.

  Chapter 7

  Where do I begin, this is probably going to be a bit out of sequence in the whole timeline of events but I need to get this out there as it will help you – my reader – understand my justification for many of my actions. First I’m going to take you back to the fifteenth of May 1990, Amy’s birthday. Four days after Amy Cooper’s fifteenth birthday. Then the nineteenth of May, the night her parents threw her a party.

  On her birthday I took her to the pictures to see ‘Pretty Woman’ starring Julia Roberts and Richard Gere, a fairytale about a hooker and a ruthless businessman. It was a magical evening, we drove up to Milton Keynes ‘The Point’ cinema complex and listened to the films soundtrack on the way to get us in the mood. Amy was wearing a pale blue dress, with white flowers, the dress stopped just above her knees which meant all the way I stole glances at her bare legs, the neckline was a swooped neck. Over the last few months Amy had really started to fill out in the chest area, the cute mounds were slowly turning into a decent handful. I was really looking forward to the day when I would be allowed access to them.

  We chatted most of the way over
the music, except for the song ‘Fallen’ by Lauren Wood as it was such a beautiful song. I tried to steer the conversation to our relationship, I still couldn’t have told you what we were, we weren’t quite boyfriend-girlfriend, but we were definitely more than just friends. She didn’t like talking about things like that and would always make jokes about me being a cradle snatcher, after all by this time I was nineteen and hanging around a barely fifteen year old girl. To me it didn’t matter, I didn’t see her as a child, I saw her as the woman she was becoming. I saw our life stretched out ahead of us, once she was sixteen, we could form a proper relationship, maybe date properly for a couple of years, then get engaged and married after another couple of years. With any luck we would have our first child when she was about twenty-one, then a second within two years, we wouldn’t want a longer gap than that. I would make her happy of that I was certain.

  Back to the night of her actual birthday, like I said we saw ‘Pretty Woman’, it was an amazing film and coming out of the movie theatre Amy linked her arm in mine and nestled in to my shoulder. We headed to Burger King where she ordered her trademark Mushroom Double Swiss and large fries and chocolate shake, we found a quiet table in the corner. After the meal I pulled her present from my pocket, I had been dying to give it to her from the moment I had picked her up from her house.

  I handed over the perfectly wrapped box, a four inch square. She tore the paper off to reveal a burgundy jewellery box with the word ‘Ratners’ emblazoned across the top in gold leaf. She flipped the lid up to reveal a rose gold five bar gate bracelet. She took it out and I placed it around her wrist for her, as I did she leaned across the table and placed a kiss on my lips before admiring her present. The next few moments are a blur as I was still recovering from her lips pressed to mine. The taste of the chocolate shake mixed with her scent would never leave me. The only other time I tasted those lips was the night she died, and they were not the same, they had become tainted.

  Like I said the evening was perfect, we had a fabulous time and I should have realised that from such a high things could only progress one way – and that was down, and down fast was the way it went.

  TWENTY ONE

  Friday 9th July 1993

  Within twenty minutes their main courses arrived, Sian had opted for the grilled Dover Sole served with new potatoes and minted peas. Philip had gone for the eight ounce Rump steak medium rare served with chips, peas and a Diane sauce. They had also ordered a second drink, another pint of Kronenberg 1664 and large Chardonnay. The waiter placed the meals in front of them with as much enthusiasm as he could muster–which really wasn’t much at all–in unison they both took a large mouthful of drink before they tucked into their meals.

  “Are you married?” Philip suddenly asked from nowhere, the drink had obviously given him some confidence.

  “No, not dating either.” She didn’t know why she had offered the extra bit of information, but she spotted something in his eyes at the mention of her being unattached. “What about you, you must have the girls falling over themselves for dates?” She saw his cheeks begin to redden. Did he really not know what he looked like, his olive skin, curly hair and sultry eyes would make many women and girls go weak at the knees. She was almost a decade older and wasn’t immune to his attraction.

  “I think I said before I haven’t really had much experience with girls, my career is important to me.” He pushed peas around on his plate to give him something to focus on rather than look her in the eye.

  “That shouldn’t stop you having fun, you’re only young once. Believe me you don’t want to miss out on your youth and then regret it ten or twenty years down the line.” She skilfully removed some of the flesh from the bone of her fish before placing it in her mouth. She couldn’t help observe the way his eyes followed her fork from the plate to her mouth. The way his eyes were drinking her in made her realise that going commando may have been a mistake, the slight draught that was circulating the room occasionally made a detour under her skirt and caused sensations inappropriate for a dinner table.

  “You’re probably right; we never know how long we have here. Poor Amy probably thought she had her whole life ahead of her, what a waste.” She thought she saw his eyes moisten with the mention of Amy, and could tell he was trying to rein it in but was beginning to lose the battle.

  “If you ever want to talk about it Philip my door is always open. Whatever you do don’t bottle it up. It will eat away at you bite by bite until you’re numb.” The second she had used the metaphor she regretted it, how could she have been so stupid. And yet a look came over his face and all of a sudden he burst out laughing. He laughed hard for maybe twenty seconds before composing himself.

  “I’m sorry. It wasn’t funny. My heart was telling me not to laugh but my head just couldn’t help itself. I had the image of her on the countertop, then you said ‘it will eat away bite by bite’ and for some reason it just seemed ridiculous as though what happened to Amy couldn’t have possibly been real. That it was part of a giant hoax, an April fool’s joke–I know it wasn’t and I shouldn’t have laughed. I’m sorry.” He ate his last mouthful of steak before setting his knife and fork on the table.

  A smile formed on her lips, she could see that this was just his way of coping with something horrendous he had seen. She had done similar in the past to cope, especially at RTA’s where she had seen her fair share of mutilation on the roadside. These type of incidents she tended to compartmentalise and put in a box in her mind labelled stage make-up. This kept the idea of the ripped apart bodies as just theatrical props for a film, she knew they weren’t but it was her way of dealing. “Don’t worry about it.” She placed her cutlery on the plate, next to the couple of potatoes she couldn’t manage. “Would you like a dessert?”

  “No thank you, I’m fine.”

  She signalled for the waiter to come and collect their plates. “Would you like to see the dessert trolley?” He asked as he arrived at the table.

  “No thank you, but could we get a couple of Brandy’s please?” She looked over at Philip and added, “Make them doubles please.”

  “I wouldn’t have put you down as a Brandy drinker Sian.” Philip said after the waiter had left.

  “What would you put me down as?” She teased.

  “Oh maybe...” He looked her up and down before he said with a smirk “Malibu and Coke.”

  She kicked him under the table before she responded “Take that back, I’m not an Essex girl.”

  “Ouch, what was that for? And no I’m not taking it back.” The waiter placed the two brandy glasses in front of them. “Why would someone do something like that?” He asked looking her straight in the eyes.

  She knew exactly what he was alluding to, he didn’t need to elaborate. In a way she was pleased he wanted to talk, god knew she needed to after today. She was grateful they were now the only two patrons left in the restaurant. “There are some very sick individuals out there, who knows why anyone does anything.” She cupped her glass in her hands to warm the brandy.

  “I can understand why someone robs, I can understand why someone would hurt someone else but why go to the extremes that he did over such a sweet girl?” He followed suit and warmed the bowl of the glass with his hands, he had no idea why but it was obviously the correct way to drink it.

  “We will catch the bastard that did this Philip, have no doubt about that.” She said as she downed the entire contents of her glass. Philip copied her, only once the amber liquid hit his throat he had an uncontrollable urge to cough and splutter as it burned its way down his oesophagus. She laughed as he regained a semblance of control. “Fancy another one up in the room?” She didn’t know where she was going with this but the day’s events and the alcohol were beginning to cloud her mind.

  “OK, if you’re sure.”

  She asked the waiter to put the bill on her room. They made their way to the elevator, where they proceeded to wait for it to arrive. Sian could feel the effects of the alcoh
ol begin to take hold; she had always been a lightweight when it came to drink. If she went out with colleagues from work she would always ensure that every other drink was a glass of water. The lift arrived and they both got in, another couple were already in there–must have come from the underground car park. It was a bit of a squeeze as the couple were quite large, but Sian and Philip managed. She could feel Philips arm brush her leg in the cramped space and it sent shockwaves to parts of her body she had forgotten about. The ride in the elevator seemed endless and the heat increased with all the hot bodies. She couldn’t wait to get out when the elevator stopped at their floor.

  She fished the key out of her skirt pocket and inserted it in the lock. She was conscious of Philips warm breath on the back of her neck. They were barely through the door when she felt Philips hands on her shoulders, in a second she was spun round and facing him before he placed his lips firmly to hers. She responded in kind using one of her hands to slam the hotel door. As their tongues fought a battle she lifted his standard issue police shirt clean over his head, though he did have to fumble with the cuff buttons to remove it completely. While he did that she deftly un-buttoned her blouse and discarded it. A flash came into her head that he was going to find out she hadn’t been wearing any knickers the whole evening. She was past caring.

  Their lips locked for a second time, they were still just inside the door. She felt his fingers on the clasp of her bra moments before it fell to the floor. Before it hit, his mouth was clamped to her nipple. It had been too long and the sensations washed over her, the pain of his teeth on her nipple was exhilarating. Never had she experienced such pleasure from pain. She undid his belt and button, as she tried to tug them down he helped by adjusting his legs and kicking off his shoes. It all came off in one, trousers and briefs. He was hard, not particularly well endowed but it would be adequate for her purposes. No sooner had he removed his trousers when he spun her round once more, she was now facing the wall. His hands grabbed the hem of her skirt as he bit into her shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark but not to break the skin. She could feel herself tipping over the edge. With her skirt raised above her waist he whispered in her ear “No knickers, you naughty little girl.” His tone gave her the creeps but she barely had a chance to think as he slid into her and she was over the edge, as he thrust away a wave of ecstasy like she had never experienced flooded her body and it wasn’t long before she felt the warmth of his liquid inside her.