by Matt Shaw
Ryan sighed. Claire was right. Even if he didn’t want to tell Dee - he didn’t have a choice now anyway. Not now he’d been caught out lying. “You’re right,” he said. “Okay - keep your sister out of the way, yeah?”
Claire nodded. “And then we can move back home.”
“This is home.”
* * * * *
Dee was washing up in the kitchen. She didn’t need to. They had a dishwasher. Ryan had bought it with a month’s bonus a few years ago because he hated the deal the married couple had; Dee did the cooking and he did the washing up. Now it became - Dee did the cooking and he put the dishes in the dishwasher. Sometimes he even made the girls do it. When he did, Dee didn’t moan. It wasn’t as though they did anything else to help around the house and it still meant she didn’t have to do it herself. Ryan walked in behind her and closed the door so no small ears could hear their conversation. Dee knew he was there, behind her, but she didn’t turn to him. She just continued washing up the dishes from breakfast.
“We have a dishwasher,” Ryan pointed out, “you don’t need to do that.” Dee didn’t answer him. Just carried on washing up. “I’m sorry I lied to you.” Those were the magic words. She stopped washing up and turned around.
“Why did you?”
“Didn’t want to worry you.”
“What’s going on? You’ve been acting strange for days now. What is it?”
“This whole thing at the bank.”
“Vanessa?”
“Not just her but the girls in general - the ones in the newspapers.”
“The dead ones?”
“If Vanessa’s been taken by the serial killer - that’s right on the doorstep. That’s practically in our home. It might as well be for how it’s affected me.” Ryan shifted on his feet. Dee could see that just talking about it was getting him stressed again. “Could have been Claire. Or Jen. Imagine if they’d been taken?”
“But they haven’t.” She paused a moment, “So what’s the story with our neighbours then? Why am I not allowed to see them?” Ryan shifted on his feet again. “Ryan…” Dee pressed him.
“Their son…”
“Thomas.”
“He started telling Claire that our other neighbour is the killer.”
“What?”
“You came in yesterday with Jackie and the kids. I went next door to tell him not to put silly ideas in her head. She doesn’t need them. You know, as much as I do, she is struggling with this move. And that little prick isn’t helping her settle, you know?” He took a breath. “Well I went there to tell him to keep his ideas to himself and Mike walked in. He thinks the same. He agrees with his fucking son. More than that - they’re talking about breaking into the man’s house to get proof. Something about him going mad after the death of his partner, or something like that…”
“They want to break into his house?”
“Yes. Find proof that he is the murderer.”
“They’d find the killer and then get arrested for breaking and entering? It doesn’t matter what the circumstances are - I’m pretty sure there isn’t some get out of jail free card you can use. What does Jackie think?”
“I don’t know - she was here with you. For all I know, though, she feels the same way. And that’s why I just want us to keep our distance from them. Oh - with regards to the police - the way they were talking; they weren't discussing taking the matter to the law. They were talking of taking the law into their own hands.”
“What?”
“A taste of his own medicine.”
“A taste of his own medicine? What’s that even supposed to mean? What - they want to torture him? They think that’s acceptable?”
“That’s what I’m talking about, Dee. This is what I’ve been trying to tell you! These people think it’s okay to break into someone’s house and they think it’s okay to take justice into their own hands. They’re trouble.”
“I don’t think Jackie…”
“Please don’t argue with me on this,” Ryan cut in. “I mean it. They’re trouble. And I don’t need them upsetting Claire anymore. Or accidentally saying something in front of Jen.” He leant back against the kitchen worktop. “The move was hard enough,” he whined, “we don’t need this too.”
Dee hesitated. She wanted to say something to make him feel better but could only think of one thing to say, “What about the neighbour? The other one? The one they believe to be a murderer. People don’t just decide someone is a murderer without something prompting them to do so. So why would they say it?”
Ryan shrugged. “I went round there yesterday to introduce myself,” he explained, “the guy is quiet, yes, maybe even a little weird but I don’t think he’s a killer. A hermit perhaps. Besides - if the police thought he was a risk they’d have kept him in.”
“Kept him in?”
“They picked him up yesterday,” Ryan said. “But they let him go. So clearly the guy isn’t who they’re looking for.”
“Well they must have had reason to think he could have been responsible or else they wouldn’t have taken him in.”
“They just needed to rule him out. Hell, the only reason he was picked up is because he’s a one of the bank’s customers. It just so happened he was caught on camera frequenting the bank more than once a day and that he’d always insist on being served by Vanessa…”
“What and you still think he is innocent?”
“What?”
Dee sighed, “Your colleague is missing. He has been stalking her…”
“I wouldn’t say he was stalking her…”
“He went in - more than once a day - and only got served by her? And now she is missing? Ryan, alarm bells are ringing!”
“The police let him go!”
“A lack of evidence to keep him in doesn’t mean he isn’t guilty. Maybe the neighbours are right about him. Maybe we should be talking to them and telling them why he was taken in.”
“What are you talking about? What you think their way of dealing with it is right?”
“You’d rather live in ignorance when there is the slightest chance we could be living next door to a….”
“Why is everyone shouting?” Jen asked as she walked into the room. Claire was with her. She mouthed, to her father, she was sorry for interrupting them. Ryan didn’t react. Neither he nor Dee even realised they’d been shouting in the first place. Their voices must have gradually been creeping up the more they spoke about the situation. “I’m hungry.” Jen whined.
“Well you’re in luck,” Dee said with a false smile on her face, “your father has offered to take us out for food…Exciting, huh? Go and get your coat.”
Jen hurried from the room with an excited bounce in her steps.
“We’re going out?” Claire asked, confused as to how that had come about.
“Sure. Be nice to get out of the house, don’t you think?” Dee asked.
“I guess.”
“Then go and get your coat.”
Claire followed her sister. Dee turned back to her husband, “You need to talk to Mike and his son. Find out their exact reasoning as to why they feel he may be dangerous. There’s no smoke without fire and the fact he has been seen - often - in your bank should be enough for you to realise there’s more to him than what you believe. I mean it. Apologise to the neighbours and find out what’s what.”
“And then what? You want me to break into the man’s house and sneak around with them too? Maybe I could keep a look out for them?”
“If he’s dangerous, we have a right to know. I just want my family to be safe.” She stormed from the room leaving Ryan to his thoughts. He’d rushed home because he was worried about his family. It was an instant reaction to the situation he was presented with. He was worried about the neighbour - yes - but he was also worried about the attitudes of Mike and Thomas (and maybe even Jackie). On the drive home, he envisioned packing his family up and running away - back to the house where they once had lived. But as soon as he had pul
led up in his driveway, he realized he had no idea what he was supposed to do next. All he knew was that his head was absolutely pounding. Stress, anxiety a lack of sleep and a horrible feeling they were all in this position because of him. He had forced the move, he had chosen the property. If they had gone anywhere else, Vanessa would still have been missing, but at least they may have had normal neighbours.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Her face was off now and she was unconscious. I couldn’t do it in one piece dammit! Her head was tilted back. A bloodied mess. Still, disappointing though. And speaking of mess - I looked down at the piles of gore I’d hacked off with the knife. Need to sharpen the blade again. The more I cut off, the harder it became to slice the skin. That’s probably why I failed to hack it off in a single satisfying cut. I tilted her head back by a handful of hair and moved my own face closer to get a good look at the mess I’d left behind. It’s beautiful. I reached under the chair and pulled another of my tools from underneath where she sat. A little trick I found to wake them up - a bottle of vinegar.
“Time to wake up,” I whispered to her. We have much to do and I’m worried it has been too long since I’d left a present for someone to find out in the woods. Need to speed this up and get something out there before I’m forgotten or no longer the leading story on the news programmes. If you’re not the top of the news - there’s little point in even being mentioned. No one remembers the little stories. I don’t want to be one of them. Jesus - starting to sound more and more like my idol, Art. I’m not him. I’m not him. I’m my own person. I’m something worse (better) than him. I’m better. Bigger and better. And to prove it - I tipped the vinegar over the play-thing’s face. She screamed herself awake. I continued to pour the vinegar.
* * * * *
Ryan and his family were sitting around the table of their local Harvester restaurant in silence. With the exception of Jen, all of them were thinking about the situation with the neighbours.
“Why is no one talking?” Jen asked. She was young, but fairly astute as to what is going on around her (with the exception of things which are hidden from her - such as horrific stories in the local papers).
“What would you like to talk about?” Dee asked her. Jen responded by shrugging. “We’re all just thinking about what to choose for dinner - that’s why everyone is quiet.”
“Well I know what I want,” Jen replied. “I’m having the chocolate fudge brownie.”
“And for your main meal?”
“Same.”
“Chocolate fudge brownie for your main and your pudding? Yeah - I don’t think so, kiddo. Nice try though.” Dee handed her the menu again, “Now why don’t you see if there’s anything you’d rather have for your main meal.”
“What are you having?” Jen asked her sister. Claire shrugged. Anyone at another table could easily spot they were sisters despite the different looks about them. They used exactly the same mannerisms.
“Gammon and egg, I think.” Ryan had chosen his meal. He closed the menu and placed it on front of the table in front of him. “Or ribs.” He tried to lighten the obvious mood at the table, “Maybe I’ll have both. Two plates. I’m a growing lad, after all…”
“Growing outward, fatty!” Dee seized the chance to join him in lightning the mood. Ryan shot her a look. He knew what she was trying to do (the same as him). Her comment was a little mis-judged though given the frosty atmosphere between them.
“I’d like a burger,” Claire placed her menu on the table on top of the one her father had used.
“That’s what I want!” Jen said.
“Well you can both have burgers!” Ryan snapped. He immediately regretted snapping at them. He leant back in his seat and rubbed his neck in an effort to try and ease some of the tension from it.
“This is nice,” Dee continued - ignoring Ryan’s comment. “We should do this more often.”
Claire looked at her. She knew something was up between her mother and father and - more importantly - she knew exactly what it was.
“Can I go and play round Kara’s when we get home?” Jen asked.
“No!” Ryan said.
“Yes. Of course you can,” said Dee. She shot Ryan a look. “I’ll take you around there when I go and see Jackie,” Dee said. She knew her comments would annoy Ryan but she didn’t care. She wanted the whole mess sorted out and the sooner the better as far as she was concerned. After all, if the neighbour was as innocent as the police believed him to be then nobody had anything to worry about from him. If anything, they might even get to know him a little better. And it meant that it didn’t matter what Mike and his family felt towards him - the man would be innocent so they’d obviously leave him alone. Everyone would go about their lives just as they had before everything had kicked off. On the flip side of the coin - if the man was a danger to their family then Mike and his son should be allowed to act accordingly. Besides - despite what Ryan told her - she didn’t actually believe they’d do anything other than hand him over to the police if they did discover something off which proved his guilt. Just because they said they’d like to give him a taste of his own medicine it didn’t mean they’d actually go ahead with it. It wouldn’t have been the first time someone had mouthed off about ‘sorting’ something.
A waitress came over with her plain note-pad in hand, ready to scribble down the family’s order, “Good afternoon…Have you guys had a chance to decide what you’d like to order yet?”
“You know what - can we just get the bill?” Ryan asked her. The waitress looked surprised but nodded anyway. She went off to fetch the bill for the four drinks they had ordered when they first took their seats at the table.
“What are you doing?” Dee asked. She felt her face redden from embarrassment. It wasn’t every day someone went into a restaurant just to order four drinks before leaving again.
“You heard Jen. She wants to see Kara,” Ryan said in a shitty tone of voice, “and you want to go and see Jackie…So…Let’s go! I didn’t want to come out anyway. This was your idea and now you’ve clearly changed your mind. Well let’s save some money and go home. Jen can play with Kara, you can see Jackie and I’m sure Claire and I will find something else to do.”
Dee went to say something back but fell silent when the waitress returned with the bill in hand, “Here you go. Do you need the card machine?”
“That’s fine, thank you.” Ryan took the bill from her and opened his wallet, revealing a handful of small notes. “Sorry to mess you around. My wife thinks she knows better.” He threw some money onto the table (more than enough to cover the bill) and slid out from his seat before heading towards the exit. The waitress just stood there with a dumbfounded expression on her face. She may have seen someone come in and order a round of drinks before leaving but she’d rarely encountered an outburst like that.
“I’m so sorry!” said Dee. She kept her face averted to try and hide her embarrassment. The waitress told her not to worry as Dee ushered her family out of the door.
* * * * *
“Girls cover your ears!” Dee called back to the rear of the car as she climbed in next to Ryan who’d already started the engine up with the key. “You’re an asshole!” she said to him.
“Fuck you!” Ryan snapped straight back at her.
Claire reached across to Jen, in the back, and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. When Jen looked across to her sister, to see what she wanted, Claire gave her a little wink and a smile. Her way of letting her sister know, without saying anything, that she was there for her and - despite appearances - everything was okay. Jen smiled back but her face clearly showed she wasn’t convinced everything was alright. In fact - her expression revealed she was extremely nervous about the situation. Probably more so because Ryan and Dee usually tried their best not to argue in front of the children.
“Just take me home!” Dee demanded despite the fact Ryan was already driving out of the multi-storey and heading back towards their new home. “And for the record, when we g
et home, I’m going to see Jackie and Jen is going to play with Kara.”
“So you keep telling me.”
“I don’t want to go round,” Jen piped up from the back seat. Her mind had been changed after the arguments started - not because she didn’t want to go but because she thought her request had been the root cause of the sudden hostility between her mum and dad.
“You’re going!” Dee snapped at Jen. She was so wound up by Ryan that she didn’t even noticed. Nor did Ryan. Claire noticed though and gave her sister’s hand another squeeze.
“I’ll come with you,” Claire whispered to her. Jen smiled at her.
The rest of the drive was completed in silence - more or less. A few sniffles from an upset Jen in the back of the car and the quiet seething of both parents in the front, which was only drowned out when Dee leaned forward and turned the radio on.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The girl has no eye-lids, most of her facial skin is missing or pealed back at the very least. Her breathing has become shallow; raspy even. Her finger-nails have been removed, fingers individually broken along with her toes. Her pleas for release have stopped now. I know she’d be calling out if she could. I know that. But she’s dying. We’re getting to the end of our time together. A pity. I’ve enjoyed myself. Good stress release; an added benefit of my sexy little hobby. Anyway no time to think about that. Each moment which passes, she gets weaker. If I want to have one last bit of fun - I need to act quickly.
I kicked her chair over. It slammed back, with her on it, onto the concrete floor of my cellar. She’s barely conscious; didn’t even groan from the force of the slam. I need to be really quick if I want to feel pleasure from what’s coming. It’s not fun if they’re dead or they don’t feel what’s coming…
I walked over to the corner of the room with a newfound sense of urgency and grabbed the sledgehammer, which rested up against the battered brickwork in the corner. It’s rare they’re usually still alive at this stage of our relationship so - when they are - I like to really enjoy it. I took the sledgehammer back across to my plaything and lined it up with her kneecap. I raised the tool high up in the air and held it there - for a moment - with a tingling sensation running through my body. Not only is this fun but it also makes it easier to cut the limbs with the hacksaw, when I’m gearing up to deposit the bodies in the woodlands. The sledgehammer makes such a mess of the bone…So much easier to cut through it. A final smile and I brought the sledgehammer down hard and fast. Not only did her leg crack, her kneecap smash, but so did the chair. Foolish mistake. I should have taken her off the chair first. I should have laid her down on the cool concrete of the floor. Especially given the fact she isn’t in a position to make a run for it. One more kneecap to go and then the same for the arms - right about at the elbow joint. She isn’t screaming. Still breathing but not screaming. Pretty sure she’s out for the count again. She will not wake up again.