…”’ Then high, childlike. ‘ Oh, yes please! Forgive me, God, for I have sinned!
‘ And don’t I know about sin. I’m a practising expert. Learned it all from dear Daddy, beloved Bishop, the man of God. Taught me all the lines, all the bullshit, and was like every other man. Preached from a pulpit on Sunday and fucked every woman he could lay his hands on every other day of the week while he spent Mummy’s money impressing everybody what a good guy he was. Mummy didn’t die in a boating accident. She committed suicide – drowned herself – for what she couldn’t tolerate: not the fucking of every other woman. When she saw him hit on me. He never fucked me hut he wanted to: was panting for it. So I set the whole thing up. Asked them both, but separately, to see my confirmation dress on the day of the ceremony: asked him to come to my room first. I was waiting for him, naked. Let him feel, so he’d be doing it when Mummy came. I wanted her to divorce the bastard: cut him off without a penny, so he couldn’t buy his respect any more. But she killed herself instead. For the rest of his life I kept him never knowing if I’d tell anyone. And at home I always walked about naked, taunting him with what he couldn’t have. Drove him mad. And I loved it. Loved torturing the dirty, lying, cheating bastard. A cheating bastard of God.
‘ That’s when I decided the Devil was more fun, all those years ago. That’s how I amused myself, when I got here. Used to pretend to all the Jesus jockeys and kneel among them and when they prayed to their God I prayed to mine for my father to burn in Hell in more agony than anyone else. Imagine that: I became a bigger, better hypocrite than Bishop Daddy, which is what he made me call him.
‘ Think what I’ve done, Jennifer. Dawson was right. I really am the Devil incarnate. I left my blood and fingerprints and hair for DNA on purpose. I really did! I planned it. I’ve legally proved in a court of law that ghosts exist. I’ve fucked religion. When I’ve finished tonight there are going to be Devil cults all over the world, praying to me.
‘ That’s the most brilliant part of everything I’ve done but it was fun torturing you like I tortured Bishop Daddy. You really believed you’d worked out the numbness, to tell you when I was with you, all by yourself, didn’t you! I did it on purpose, shit-for-brains: all of it. Made you numb when I wanted to, didn’t bother when I intended you and the idiots with you to imagine you were free. You’ve never been free. There hasn’t been a moment when I haven’t been there, knowing everything that’s been going on. Never will be. Christ I can’t believe how stupid you all were! ’
Jennifer struggled to move but couldn’t. Her mouth was frozen half open but no sound came when she tried to scream: she couldn’t even move her tongue.
‘… Don’t tire yourself, honey. You’re not going to do or say anything for yourself any more. Just for me. What I want to do.
‘ Your boyfriend’s not much good in the fuck stakes, is he? I’ve seen bigger dicks on newborn babies. Hardly knows how to use it, either. You did a good job, faking orgasms, Jennifer. Best supporting role in our own very special Oscar nominations, how about that! Not a bad lawyer, though. I was frightened no-one was going to pick up on the clues I’d left behind: thought I was going to have to have you do it. Wasn’t that phoney trial a scream! Another time I could hardly stop myself laughing. Interesting, what he found out though. Would have put Gerald in the gas chamber, where he belonged… And he got it right about why I’m doing this to you: nothing at all about my murder. Always knew you weren’t involved in that…’
Emily stirred, turning in her sleep and throwing an arm out as she did so. Jennifer could feel the warmth from the little hand.
‘… That book you’ve spent so much time on – not bad, by the way – is going to round it all off very nicely, isn’t it? I’m going to be the one to provide the ending you could not make up your mind about. One you never thought of… my very own Bible, for all my waiting worshippers…
‘ Now here’s what we’re going to do, Jennifer. We’re going to kill Emily first. And then Jeremy: he’s expecting you, after all. After that we’ll just take them out as they come, simply wander down the corridor, helping ourselves: the priest and Cox and Lloyd and the psychiatrist. And those other fucking lawyers. Might as well include Annabelle while we’re about it. How many’s that? Eight and the brat. That’ll do.
‘ And don’t think you’ll be able to stop me. Oh, and don’t think I’ll let you commit suicide, either. I’ll stop you ever doing that. You’re going to suffer until you’re a very old lady for taking Gerald away from me. That really was your crime, taking him from me. Mine was believing he was any different from all the other men. But then that was yours, too, wasn’t it?
‘ Now just so you’ll understand everything you’re going to be able to move your head. Just your head, sideways, but not speak. See it! That’s a kitchen knife, just like the one you used on Gerald. You carried it up here tonight and you didn’t even know I’d made you, did you? Here we go then. I’m taking over now, Jennifer: taking over until I want you to realize what I’ve made you do… Emily’s got to know before you do it, of course… Hate her mother for the last few seconds of her life…
‘ Emily, wake up Emily…’
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A Mind to Kill Page 44