Chapter Eleven
He had taken her to the place he had chosen, she was safe from prying eyes. It was hard work, to manhandle her to where she now was. Her unconscious body had the weight of the dead. He did not think anyone would find her before he could carry out the next part, before he would cast the next aspiring actor in the macabre drama he had planned, before that person would join her in the encore to the play he had been audience to long ago.
The difference now, he thought, was that instead of sitting helplessly in the audience waiting for whatever the director decided past for modern entertainment, he now wrote the script and only he determined the ending. He had slept like a newborn baby last night; his mind was at peace with what he had done. She would thank him in the end; he had given her a chance of redemption. The scene had been set.
He just hoped the next piece of his plan went as smoothly. It had been easy taking her, she came willingly, after she was rendered unconscious, screened from view by the many trees that surrounded them. Who knew that the fumes of liquid Ether would do that to a person so quickly? He had held her tightly for less than five seconds before she went limp, no fight left in her. A few drops on the cloth were all it took. The dopey student at the lab had told him not to use too much, and not too often.
From the moment he had seen her, he knew she was mother. She was back to give him another chance at life. He had been watching her for months now, making sure he was right. More and more he became convinced. She had very similar mannerisms to mother; she had a shy smile that he saw mother use on a very rare occasion. She would look at you with a faraway expression as if she was not really seeing you, but caught in some inner turmoil.
It was easy to keep track of her; she was always at that boys place in the Leith Valley. Mat was his name; he had heard her speak the name at one time or another. She always walked the same way home from Mats place, a creature of habit. She always cut through the forested area beside the gardens on her way back towards George Street. It was a pleasant environment to calm the nerves and relax the mind. A pleasant environment for him to do what he needed to, people would not see him here.
However, that was then and this was now, now he was driving towards the meeting place he had arranged with his next acquisition. He would not be so lucky with his next target he was sure. That would require more cunning on his behalf. Father was dead, he knew that, but someone needed to stand in for him.
He had said his name was Ben and had been waiting for this opportunity for a while. He had practically jumped at the chance of meeting him. A simple add placed on an Internet chat room, 'Actor required for unusual role, experience not necessary', had elicited over twenty responses. It had only taken a few questions of the applicants to narrow it down to Ben.
He was the right age, right ethnic group, hair colour similar, close enough.
When asked, he had said he lived estranged from his family, having had a rough upbringing. Maybe this would help Ben with his issues as well.
It does not matter really, he thought. It is not about him, it is about me.
Why Ben thought that meeting at the Botanic Gardens was not a little strange, who knew, but it certainly made it easier for what he had in store.
Ben had the part already and he did not even know it.
Human Frailty, a Detective Mike Bridger novel Page 12