The Killing Moon

by A. S. French

  Cope sucked on the cigarette as if it was the last she’d ever have. ‘Did they hurt you at the Brady mansion, Snow? Maybe one of the Senator’s thugs knocked you on the head and scrambled your brains because you’re speaking nonsense now.’

  Astrid pressed her fingers into the mark on her neck. ‘Lying to me is a waste of time, Jules, so I’ll ask you again: how old were you when you recognised you enjoyed inflicting pain on others?’

  Detective Julie Cope continued to blow smoke around the room. She took a long, hard look at Astrid before she replied.

  ‘It was about the same point I realised if I didn’t keep my proclivities hidden, I’d end up in serious trouble.’

  ‘So you thought the best way to do that was in plain sight and became a cop.’

  ‘If paedophiles can join the Church, then surely the perfect place for a sadist is in the Police Force? It made sense to me.’

  ‘My desire stopped me recognising what you are straight away.’

  Cope finished her cigarette and stubbed it on her hand. ‘Don’t fret it, Snow; we all make mistakes, and that wasn’t your only one.’

  As Astrid lunged for her, something thick and heavy hit the side of her face. The last thing she saw was the carpet rushing towards her.

  Tiny builders were hammering into her jaw when she woke. Half-light dripped through her flickering eyes.

  ‘He’s never been the same since he got trapped inside a shabby movie house watching The Incredible Shrinking Man while on a bad acid trip.’

  Cope’s words made no sense to her. Who was she talking about? And who had punched her? She tried to stand, but her body failed to do as she asked; or perhaps it was because she was strapped to a chair and, for once, it wasn’t for pleasure.

  ‘I think I broke my fingers on her face.’

  The voice sounded familiar, but the howling of wolves in her ears didn’t help. Astrid shook her head so her vision and hearing returned to normal. She wiggled her jaw. It ached, but she could speak.

  ‘That was a kiss with a fist. You must be the junior partner in this murderous duo.’

  Detective Pete Wylie glared at her, stepping forward as if to strike again.

  ‘You’ll get used to the discomfort.’ Cope approached Astrid and ran her fingers across their captive’s face. ‘I wonder, though, how much pain you can take.’ She stroked Astrid’s cheek before dropping down to the bite marks she’d inflicted on the neck the other night. ‘You’ve had some experience of this, haven’t you?’

  Astrid snapped her head backwards, the tight constraints of the rope cutting into her arms and legs.

  ‘You two make a terrible couple. I predict trouble on the horizon for both of you.’

  Cope pushed out her cheeks and pulled a chair close to her. Their knees touched as she sat.

  ‘You’re getting desperate, Snow, and it’s sad to see. I’d hoped you were made of sterner stuff than our usual playdates.’

  She placed her hand on Astrid’s knee and squeezed hard. Astrid resisted the urge to spit in her face. Inside her head, she searched for an escape map but came up with nothing. She needed more time; she had to keep them talking.

  ‘All these books you have about serial killers and profiling; are they just a front so you could blend into the background of law enforcement?’ As she spoke, she pushed out her shoulders, flexing her arms and legs in the hope of loosening her bonds.

  Cope sank into her chair. ‘They’re educational.’ She grabbed one about the Hillside Stranglers. ‘We needed to learn from other people’s mistakes. Being cops didn’t guarantee our safety; we had to be smarter than everyone else. And we were until you arrived.’

  Astrid forced a smile from her dry lips. ‘I’m flattered.’

  Wylie lit a cigarette and filled the room with smoke. ‘You’re giving her too much credit, Jules. Just because you rolled around in the hay for a few hours doesn’t mean you should be blind to what she is.’

  Cope turned to her partner. ‘I know exactly what she is; she’s like us. I recognised it as soon as I saw her; the other night only confirmed it.’

  Painful laughter sputtered out of Astrid. ‘Psychopaths are always deluded, and you two are no different. I’m nothing like you.’

  If she could stand, she might be able to throw herself into the wall and smash her way out of the chair; but she couldn’t get up.

  Julie Cope patted Astrid’s knee. ‘You’re exactly like me, Snow. You find meaning in your life wherever you want to, and you don’t let anyone stop you from doing that, regardless of who they are. You may blend into society’s conformist rules every once in a while, but it’s just a façade as you pursue your wants and needs as they dictate.’

  ‘You’re delusional. I don’t hurt people to satisfy my desires.’

  Cope smirked at her. ‘Come now, you know that’s not true. You told me you tortured and killed while working for the Agency. Would you have done that if it made you feel terrible?’ She got out of the chair and went to Wylie as he held up his damaged hand. ‘I bet you’d enjoy killing both of us right now.’

  Cope put her lips on his and they shared the smoke from the cigarette, sucking it in before exhaling. Astrid’s palms were turned upwards, the rope cutting into her wrists as she flexed her fingers.

  ‘You’re damn right I would.’ She bared her teeth and glared at them, but it was a fake show of anger designed to keep them off guard. ‘What did you do to Alex Sanchez?’

  Wylie grimaced as Cope let go of his hand.

  ‘We didn’t do anything to her. If you’re trying to maintain a low profile, you don’t snatch the most famous teenager in the town. We only take those who won’t be missed, even by their own families, some of which are glad not to have another mouth to feed and clothe.’

  Astrid was about to argue the point when she remembered how much her family hated her.

  ‘I saw Alex’s initials on the door of your torture dungeon.’

  Wylie laughed at her. ‘I did that as a joke, to wind you up, and it looks like it worked.’

  Cope glared at him. ‘I wasn’t happy about it. We need to reduce the risks we take, but he won’t listen.’

  She stepped from him, and for the first time since she woke, Astrid recognised the tension between her captors. She had to work with that and increase it; divide and conquer was her only way out alive.

  ‘Wasn’t it dangerous, using that old tunnel in the woods?’

  As she observed them, she managed to twist her ankles against the rope and wriggle them free a little. A bit more and perhaps she could stand.

  ‘It was safer than the other places we’ve used,’ Cope said. ‘I only knew it was there because my father told me about it when I was a kid. He was a local amateur historian, but nobody ever listened to him.’

  ‘Enough of this chattering. I need a release.’ Wylie didn’t attempt to hide his frustration. ‘You know what happens if I don’t get it.’

  Cope’s shoulders shrank as she sighed. ‘Okay, Pete; it won’t be long now.’ She sat opposite Astrid again and removed a screwdriver from her pocket. ‘He gets frustrated if he doesn’t have a sexual fix regularly.’

  Astrid turned to him. ‘Don’t mind me if you want to yank that small cock of yours in here, Pete.’

  She smiled as he glared at her. Cope shook her head.

  ‘If it were that simple, we’d never have met in the first place.’

  Astrid pictured the meeting. ‘Let me guess: you two fell in love over stained leather at a fetish club.’

  Cope grimaced. ‘I hate leather, but you’re not far from the truth. The strangest thing was we were both already cops, but in different towns. The club was in New York, but Pete transferred here soon after.’ She turned to him. ‘How long ago was it, partner?’

  He continued spitting smoke into the air. ‘Five years, Jules.’

  The tension between them had dissipated, and Astrid wasn’t happy about it. ‘So, you came up with a plan to snatch vulnerable kids off the streets, t
argeting ones you thought wouldn’t be missed, and torturing and killing them for sexual pleasure?’

  Cope glanced at her partner, continuing to roll the screwdriver between her fingers. ‘Yes, that’s about the gist of it. And everything was fine until you arrived.’

  ‘I might not have known anything if that girl hadn’t turned up dead near the river.’

  ‘Yes, the ill-starred Katie,’ said Cope.

  ‘It was unfortunate for her, and you. How did she get away from your torture chamber?’

  ‘Are we doing this now?’ Wylie growled.

  ‘I’m not going to kill her here,’ Cope replied. ‘What do I keep telling you? No more risks.’ She glared at him. ‘We wouldn’t have had to torch the tunnel if you hadn’t let the girl escape.’

  ‘We don’t have to kill her. You know what I need.’

  Cope leant into her chair and laughed out loud. ‘Pete, she’ll bite it off if you dangle it anywhere near her.’

  ‘Not if we remove her teeth first. We’ve done it before.’

  She considered his words. ‘You’ll have to put plastic sheets over the floor and the furniture. I’m not getting blood all over the place.’

  ‘That’s okay; I have some in the car.’

  It was his fault Katie escaped. She’s the one in charge, so he has to be the weak link.

  Wylie moved close to Astrid, his face resembling a manic clown. Cope sighed loudly.

  ‘He’d been visiting her on his own when he knows that’s forbidden.’ He stepped back from Cope’s stern glare. ‘He thought she was his Patty Hearst. I think the poor girl had Stockholm Syndrome.’

  ‘It was an accident, Jules. I told you.’

  She stood and glared at him. ‘You didn’t tie her up properly, so she escaped, and that’s why we’re in this fucking mess now.’

  She thrust her hand down and pushed the screwdriver through Astrid’s palm. Before she could scream, Cope had her other hand over Astrid’s mouth. Pain surged through her as she struggled to breathe through her nose.

  ‘It won’t happen again.’ Wylie towered over her. ‘Can I get the plastic from the car?’

  Cope nodded as Astrid bit into her hand, her teeth going deep into the Detective’s flesh. Cope never blinked or moved.

  ‘Now, isn’t this fun?’ Cope said as Wylie stepped out.

  She let go of Astrid and went into the kitchen, returning with a towel to clean the blood from her hand and mop up that which seeped from Astrid’s wound. She removed the screwdriver, and Astrid winced.

  ‘He’s becoming a liability to you, Jules. You’ll get caught because of him.’ She spoke through gritted teeth. ‘If I can find you because of his mistake, then others will as well.’

  Cope wiped the blood from the tool. ‘You could be right, but what’s a girl like me to do in a situation like this?’

  ‘Get professional help.’

  Cope sank into her seat and laughed again. ‘Oh, I will miss you, Snow. We could’ve had so much more fun together.’

  ‘Are you going to pull all my teeth out?’

  ‘Pete can do it; I like you too much.’ She grinned at her. ‘I guess I do have a soft spot after all.’

  ‘I’ll scream while he does it. If you don’t want the neighbours to hear, you’ll have to cut my tongue out first.’

  Her smile was brighter than the sun. ‘You’ve done this type of thing before, haven’t you?’ Cope slapped her leg like a cowgirl at a rodeo. ‘See, I told you we’re very much alike.’

  ‘There’s one big difference between us, Jules.’ The blood turned cold in Astrid’s palm.

  ‘And what’s that?’

  ‘You’re going to prison, and I’m not.’

  Cope laughed again. ‘Oh, I do love the balls on you. Will you still be this arrogant when you’re missing a tongue and all your teeth while Pete’s wangling his dong in your face? And, I have to tell you, he’s quite a big boy down there, so you might want to flex the muscles in your jaw as preparation.’

  ‘The thing which annoys me the most, Jules, is I think you’ll enjoy yourself in prison.’

  Detective Julie Cope was about to fashion a reply when a hand pushed cold steel into the back of her neck.

  Officer Grace Crowley gripped on to her gun. ‘Did you get lost on the way to the Sanchez place, Astrid?’

  ‘I had to take a slight detour. What have you done with Wylie?’

  Confusion furrowed Grace’s brow. ‘Detective Wylie? I haven’t seen him since the Senator’s party.’

  Then pandemonium broke out in the apartment.

  Wylie threw the plastic over Grace’s head and dragged her backwards. When the gun disappeared from Cope’s neck, she bolted up. Astrid had leveraged her feet away from the tape binding her and pushed forward. She barrelled her head into Cope’s gut, and they tumbled into the others. All four of them crashed into the back wall. Electricity surged through Astrid’s body.

  ‘Fuck!’ Cope shouted as she swung the screwdriver at Astrid’s face. Astrid threw herself backwards and on to the floor. The chair hit the ground hard and splintered apart as she rolled to the side as Cope lunged at her. She was on her feet in seconds, bits of wood hanging from her wrists like mittens. She swung one up as Cope went for her again, catching the Detective across the head and sending her reeling.

  Astrid glanced around to find Grace, but she and Wylie were nowhere. She refocused just in time to see the screwdriver heading for her. It clipped her cheek as she twisted away. It clattered into the wall behind her.

  She wiped the blood from her face. ‘How good is your hand to hand combat, Jules?’

  Fire flashed through Cope’s eyes. ‘You know Pete will break your little friend’s neck.’

  A tiny laugh escaped from Astrid’s hard-working lungs. ‘My not so little friend will have his balls on a plate, and I’m going to smash this piece of chair into your nose.’

  She held up the splintered wood as books lay scattered around them. For the first time, she witnessed confusion in Julie Cope’s eyes.

  ‘You’re out of condition, Snow; too used to looking for children to handle someone like me. I do this for a living; you’re just an amateur now.’

  The Agency had taught Astrid patience was the key: let your enemy make the initial mistake because the first was usually the last. But there was Grace to consider. Was she confident her partner could deal with Wylie? She couldn’t wait around and take that risk.

  ‘I’ll give you a farewell kiss to remember me by.’

  She moved towards Cope, placing her foot next to a pile of books when the Detective stepped to the side. Astrid got her shoe underneath the closest hardback and kicked it forward. As Cope tried to dodge an attack, the book landed in the middle of her face.

  She groaned and tumbled to the floor. ‘You broke my fucking nose!’ Cope screamed as she threw Ted Bundy’s biography down, her blood slipping across the front cover. She struggled to get up as Astrid leapt forward and planted her knee in the Detective’s chest.

  ‘This reminds me of the other morning,’ she said as Cope thrashed beneath her.

  Then footsteps entered the room.

  24 Master and Servant

  Astrid turned Cope on to her stomach and pulled the Detective’s hands behind her back. Then Grace slapped the cuffs on her colleague.

  ‘Do we have time for a threesome?’ Cope laughed. ‘Or are you going to read me my rights, Officer Crowley?’

  Astrid hauled Cope to the side and threw her on to the sofa. She kept one eye on her as she spoke to Grace.

  ‘Where’s Wylie?’

  ‘He’s unconscious and chained to a railing outside.’

  ‘How did you know where I was?’

  ‘I followed you here.’ She looked sheepish. ‘After we found nothing at Brady’s mansion, I thought you’d given up. I sat there and called you all the names under the sun, ready to quit this job, forget about becoming a foster parent and leave this town forever. My brain was frazzled’

  ‘Yo
u were imaging all kinds of weird sex games going on, weren’t you?’

  ‘I didn’t know what to think.’ She coughed and scratched at her throat. ‘I was about to knock on the door when I heard her talking to you. That’s when I came in and saw what was happening. It’s a good job I had a weapon with me.’

  Astrid agreed. ‘What happened with you and Wylie?’

  ‘He pulled me outside, but I guess he wasn’t used to dealing with someone as tall as me.’

  ‘He’s a pervert and a coward, but still a big bloke. How did you overcome him?’

  Grace puffed out her cheeks. ‘It was pure luck. As he struggled to get hold of me, he lost his footing at the top of the stairs and fell. Once I’d cuffed him to the radiator in the hall, I came back up for you.’ She checked the damage in the room. ‘What happened here?’

  Astrid peered at the hole in the palm of her hand. ‘Wylie and Cope are our serial killers. They’ve been taking kids they know won’t be missed or those who the police won’t look too closely into where they went.’ As she spoke, Cope grinned. The wound in Astrid’s palm throbbed as she flexed her fingers. ‘They worked as a murder team in the town, but I’d guess both of them killed on their own before they arrived in Angel Springs.’

  Grace gasped. ‘Fuck me.’

  Cope leant forward, her back arched, and her grin sparkled like the stars. ‘I’m game, Officer Crowley. Perhaps Astrid is keen for a threesome.’

  ‘I should call this in.’ Grace removed her phone.

  Astrid stopped her. ‘I need to talk to her first.’

  ‘We can do that at the station.’

  ‘No, I have to get her alone, away from your superiors and her former colleagues. Who’s to say other police aren’t involved in these crimes?’

  Grace was ashen, her lips almost blue. ‘That’s hard to believe.’

  ‘Before tonight, would you have imagined them as serial killers?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, but surely it’s only the two of them. We would have known otherwise.’

  ‘I wouldn’t count on it, Grace. I’ve known serial killers who worked in groups. It’s rare, but not unknown.’