‘I can’t. I’m a police officer. I would lose my job. I need to pretend everything is alright so that I can catch the killer.’
‘And you’re sure you are a police officer?’
Dave hung up. Are you sure you’re a police officer!
‘Yes I am sure!’ he shouted.
Perhaps he was deluded. Perhaps he thought he was a police officer when actually he was a deluded nutter.
He went to see his mother.
‘I am a police officer, aren’t I?’ he asked.
‘Yes dear,’ she said.
‘I’m not deluded. No I’m sane in that respect. The killer really is after me,’ he said.
He went to look in the mirror at his bruise. He touched it.
‘This is real,’ he said.
Shirley came back a while later. She brought a man with her in a suit and beard.
‘This is the psychologist. He did a profile on Richard Henders,’ she said.
Dave introduced himself.
‘I see you had a knock to the head,’ said the psychologist.
‘Yes,’ said Dave.
He wasn’t going to tell this man anything.
‘Tell me about Richie Henders,’ said Dave.
‘Well, he is a psychopath. All his medical records show that he has no empathy and that he acts out of revenge. That is why we’re a bit worried about you. His past history shows he doesn’t let things go. He will kill again. He’ll kill soon. You are likely to be in danger.’
‘I thought so too. He wanted to get revenge for his mother dying. He thinks older people are to blame.’
‘Yes, totally deluded,’ said the psychologist.
‘I’m sure he will slip up soon,’ said Dave.
‘Yes, we hope so. Now, I’ve been asked to check on you. You had quite a blow to the head.’
‘Yes but I’m alright now,’ said Dave.
He pushed the voices away and concentrated on looking sane.
‘Do you feel distracted at all?’ said the psychologist.
‘I feel tired. I’ve not slept well. But I’m sure once this is over I will.’
‘Yes of course. Perhaps you could take some sleeping tablets?’
‘Not yet. I need my wits about me right now,’ said Dave.
‘Yes but you won’t have your wits if you’re tired,’ he said.
Dave knew it was true.
‘OK,’ he said. ‘I’ll take a pill tonight.’
‘Good,’ said the psychologist. He wrote him out a prescription.
Shirley said she’d pick it up for him.
‘I’d like a walk to be honest,’ he said.
‘OK. Let’s go together,’ said Shirley.
Dave’s mother asked if she could stay in the hotel.
‘Will I be safe?’ she asked.
‘You’ll be safe,’ said Shirley.
Dave and Shirley headed out. The traffic seemed overwhelming. It was so loud. There were people everywhere on the streets. Dave found it hard to move around them. They found a chemist and waited for the pills.
When they got out, Shirley said she was going back to the station.
‘Be really careful,’ said Dave. ‘I think he might be following you.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ said Shirley. ‘I’ll be fine.’
Dave went back to the hotel room. He took the pills with water and lay down. Before long he was asleep.
Chapter 17
I had a narrow escape from the police. I could hear the helicopters. Good job they went the other way. This is getting harder. I need a better disguise. In the KFC it was really busy but still they looked at me funny as if I’d done something wrong. The whole country is looking for me.
I drink my coke through the straw. I pick at my chicken. It reminds me of the dead bodies in the lock up. I put it down. I’ll eat the chips instead.
It’s awful in this place. There’s a weird haunted presence.
‘Mum, please protect me,’ I say.
There’s no reply but I know she’s near. I just don’t know what other spirits are near. Something tells me I’m going to die here. I feel a bit scared when I think that. I know the good die young. I should die young because I’m good but there’s so much I want to do first. I want to kill the old people, I want to kill the police. I want to know I’ve left the world a better place.
The best thing to do to feel better in this place is to arrange it like a torture chamber. I think I’ll capture the policewoman and bring her here. I’ll torture the secrets out of her and see what she knows. I need to know who is in on this. I know the old people are but there’s others too. I’m not liking this. It’s not as easy as it was.
I can’t even eat the chips either. I need energy for this. I need energy milkshakes. I’ll rob some. There’s loads of stuff I need. I put my hoody on to go to the shops.
I climb out the window and down the street. The streets are busy and no one will even look at me unless I elbow them in the face. I want to kill them all but I need to wait. I steal from the shops. I’ve been stealing all my life and never once been caught. There’s always a first time though. Especially because I need to hide my face.
I’ve got them. I’ve got all my bits and bobs I need. Won’t be long until I’m a new man.
Back at my new gaff, I get out the hair dye. I’ll do that first. I take the bottled water. I wet my hair. I stick on the dye. It stinks. I’ll leave it there for a few hours now – I need it as dark as it will go. Now I’m ready to make my new face. I get the putty and stick it on. It won’t stick on easy but I do it. I can see my face falling off pretty easy. I look through my new tool box. Great. There’s glue. I stick the glue on, I stick the putty on, I cover it all in foundation. I look pretty damn weird I’m sure. Just need to wash out the dye and I’ll be ready to walk around again. I go to the toilet and shine my torch in the mirror. I’m not handsome anyhow but this makes me worse. It’s quite funny really. Good job there’s a lot of funny looking people out there. It’s itchy and sore. I need to make sure I don’t scratch it off. What would Mum say? I don’t look like her son now. I still am though. I’m still her son.
Next job I need a car. This car business is hard. I go on the side streets. I can’t alert the police to me being in the area. There’s a man sitting in his car. He’s fiddling on his phone. I knock on the window. He winds it down a tiny bit.
‘Yes?’ he says.
‘I’m looking for my car,’ I say. ‘Have you seen it?’
‘What does it look like?’ he says.
‘This one,’ I say.
I get my knife from the pocket and stab him in the eye through the gap. Blood is pouring. His head is in his hands. I smash the window and stab him some more.
He’s dead.
‘Good boy Richie,’ I can hear my mother say.
I open the door and move the dead man to the passenger seat. I take off my hoody and place it so you can’t see the blood. Then we’re ready to roll.
I work out the key system and set off driving. I drive to the police station to scope out this policewoman.
I’m watching the station. I’m clocking the police. I’ll know them if I see them again. Here I am with a dead man next to me, sitting outside the station. They don’t know a thing. Here comes my policewoman. I wonder where she’s going. Most likely to the hotel. She’s with a dude in a suit. I watch them drive. I follow.
As I’m driving I’m pretty sure they’re going to the hotel. Same direction as last time. I’ll be more careful this time. I hear a cough. I look over. Pissing dead man isn’t dead. Shit, I’m rubbish at this. I pull over and find somewhere to stop. I find a nice spot in an alleyway. I get my knife and slit his neck. Blood squirts on my hoody and the windscreen. Great. I open the door and go round to the passenger door. I get him out. I pull him to the back and open the boot. He’ll be fine in here for now. I don’t want him in the street in case they know he’s dead. I need the car just a bit longer.
He’s safely in the boot, dead as
can be. I wipe off the blood from the windows. I carry on to the hotel. I arrive and find the policewoman’s car outside. I find a place where I can watch.
The car only has CDs and they are shit. I need the radio. I need the news to see if they are ahead of me. I know they are watching the hotel. They won’t see me here. If I hear a helicopter I’ll leg it.
And I’m watching the car, watching the car and I’d missed her. Here she comes now from the street with my policeman. His bruise is amazing. I did that. They must think I’m going to kill him because he goes into the hotel. I am going to kill him. I’m just going to kill his best mate first. There she goes in her car. Ha. I set off. Most likely she is going to the station but I follow anyhow. I’m thinking how to kill her. I’m thinking she’s got to go home at some point. I can’t wait to see her die.
I think I might be in luck. She’s not going to the station. She has turned off. I better stay close. Where is she going? I check my mirror. I can’t see myself being tailed. There is a possibility it could be another trap. I don’t think it is but I’d better look out. She drives round, she knows the route. She’s a confident driver. I think she must be going home because all her lane changes are fluid and sure. I keep a bit behind. I hate going slow. Police officers follow the road rules. She doesn’t go over thirty miles an hour. I’m bored in the car. No music, no radio. This car is shit. I’ll lose it as fast as I can. I need a van next. I need a van to stick this woman in.
She arrives at a house. She’s knocking. Could it be an investigation? Does this woman ever sleep? I wait. The door opens. She hugs a woman and goes in. As the woman shuts the door, I see her face. That’s got to be her mother. For sure. Ha, so little miss policewoman lives with her mummy. I can kill the whole family. I can get them all out of the way. I drive off to find a van.
Not far from the house, there’s a removal van. That would be handy. The neighbours would think they are moving out. The van is half full of boxes and a bed. The driver is round the front. I need to be quick before more boxes arrive, with people. I sneak round the front. The driver is sitting there, door open, happy as Larry. Ha. I walk slowly up to him.
‘Hi,’ I say.
Before he can reply, I stab him. He cries out. I stab him again. And keep going until I see the removal boxes coming down the pathway. I throw the dead man on the road. I jump up into the lorry. I turn the key and set off at speed down the road. The luggage scatters.
It won’t be long before the police are looking. I need to get this policewoman and her family fast. I rush the van to her road. I park it. I shut the doors at the back. I walk round to the back of the house and look for a way in.
Chapter 18
Shirley drove away from the hotel thinking about Dave. He seemed like he’d lost part of his character. Where was the man she knew who went by his hunches and was so sure of himself? He was a broken man. She was sure he was putting on a brave face and that he wasn’t as well as he said. It was a good job he had this time at the hotel. Time to gather himself and hopefully mend. It was nice that he got to spend time with his mother. She wished she had that time with her family. Here she was with her three hours off, speeding to her mother’s house to spend an hour with her granny before going back to work. She just hoped her granny survived long enough so she could spend some proper time with her. It all depended on catching this killer. She had never been on a case this big and now the excitement of it had gone and she was left feeling exhausted and longing for it to end.
She realised she’d been on auto pilot driving and looked at the road. Dave’s words came back to her that she should be careful. She checked her mirrors for signs of being followed. There was so much traffic on the roads it was hard to tell. It was stupid of him to think she would be a target anyway. She wasn’t the right age range. She thought about her granny and how it was probably a good thing she was stuck in the house, ill. At least she was safe.
‘How is she?’ she asked as she hugged her mother.
‘Come in,’ said her mother.
Shirley went in. She walked down the hallway into the kitchen and sat down. She played with a mango on the table. It was still firm and not ready to be eaten. She smoothed her thumb across its skin.
‘It’s not good news, is it Mummy?’ she said.
‘I have some curry in the fridge. I’ll warm it,’ said her mother.
Shirley could see her mother was shaking. She was avoiding Shirley’s eye.
‘Is she still with us?’ asked Shirley.
‘She is, but the doctor says it won’t be long,’ said her mother.
‘Days, weeks?’
‘Days,’ she said. ‘She’s been given a lot of pain relief. They wanted to take her in to the hospital but she said no. She wants to die at home.’
Shirley put down the mango.
‘I’m sorry I haven’t been here,’ she said. ‘I’m a bad daughter.’
‘You have your work. You can’t do everything. I know. Your cousins have been round every day. We’ve all been with her. She has asked for you but I explained.’
‘Can I see her?’
‘Of course. Go see her while I warm up the curry. She’s in the front room.’
Shirley went in.
‘Granny,’ she said.
She looked at her grandmother, her face gaunt and old. This woman who had been the strength of the family would soon be gone.
‘Hello Shirley my dear,’ said her grandmother.
‘Hello Granny,’ she said.
‘Haven’t seen you,’ she said. Her voice was cracked and hoarse.
‘I’m sorry. My work is busy.’
‘So I hear. I’m glad you’re here.’
Shirley held her hand. It was soft. She knew her mother had been applying oil and she smiled. Granny would go out as she always was, smart and well kept.
Her mother knocked on the door and opened it.
‘Shirley, can you do me a favour?’
‘Yes,’ said Shirley.
‘Can you stay here while I go to do the shopping? Your father is out until the evening and I need a few things. I won’t be long.’
‘I can stay,’ she looked at her watch. ‘Two hours, is that enough time?’
‘Oh Shirley,’ said her mother.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Shirley. ‘They need me on shift. Would you rather more people died?’
‘Your family comes first, did you learn nothing from me?’ said her mother.
‘Leave her be,’ said her grandmother.
Her mother shut the door and Shirley could hear her getting her shopping trolley to go out. There was silence between her and her grandmother. It wasn’t until they heard the front door go that her grandmother spoke again.
‘You’ll understand when you have your own family,’ she said.
Shirley felt her face flush.
‘When are you going to find a man? You haven’t got much time left.’
‘I think all the good men are taken, Granny. I probably won’t marry now,’ she said.
‘Don’t say that. No. You’ll meet someone and have children just like I did and just like your mother did.’
Shirley pursed her lips. It was so easy for other people to come out. She didn’t have the strength to say it. At this point it didn’t really matter for Granny. She had a few more years of it with her parents.
Her Granny coughed. It was a deep cough and took the energy from her.
‘Please don’t die now,’ thought Shirley.
Her Granny gripped her hand as she coughed, then her hand went limp and Shirley leaned over her to check she was alive.
‘Still here,’ said her Granny. ‘The Lord hasn’t taken me yet.’
‘You’re tired,’ said Shirley. ‘Shall I leave you to sleep?’
‘Stay. Put the television on. We can watch together.’
Shirley put on the TV. It startled her. She turned the volume down.
‘Put the dancing on,’ said her Granny. ‘I like the dancing.’
Shirley flicked channels.
‘I don’t think the dancing is on,’ she said.
She put the news on and they sat in silence. The serial killer was not newsworthy as there had been no developments but there was news of corrupt politicians and Shirley started to listen and get angry.
From the back of the house, Shirley heard a scraping noise.
‘Mum? You back?’ she called.
There was silence.
Shirley bristled. Perhaps Dave had been correct.
‘Don’t be jumpy like that Shirley. The Lord’s not coming for me yet,’ said her Granny.
‘Granny I’m just going to have a look what the noise was,’ she said.
She got up and took the truncheon from her belt. Her chest felt tight. Her breathing was shallow. She held the truncheon tightly and walked to the door. She swung it open and held her stick high. There was no one there. She checked the front door. It was locked. She hurried on tiptoes down the hallway. She went into the kitchen. It was empty. Nothing was moved. She opened the back door onto the yard. It was open but it usually was during the day. She looked at the yard. The clematis had come down. It looked like someone had jumped over the fence. She felt her heart beating fast. He was here. She knew he was. She turned and ran back to the front room. She opened the door.
‘Drop your weapons,’ she heard.
She stood still. Her Granny still lay on the sofa but in front of her throat was a knife. A man stood behind. A man who looked like his face was made of paper-mache. His hair was jet black but he couldn’t hide those acne scars with any amount of makeup.
‘Drop it,’ he said. ‘Or she’s dead.’
Shirley had seen enough to know he meant it. She dropped the truncheon.
‘Anything else on you? What about those handcuffs?’
Shirley took the handcuffs off her belt and placed them on the carpet.
‘You’re coming with me,’ he said.
‘If you leave my family alone then I’ll come,’ she said.
‘This pissing old biddy is coming with us,’ he said.
‘She hasn’t long to live. Let her die in peace,’ said Shirley.
‘The amount I’ve suffered, you think I’d let her die happily? Do you know how my mother died?’
Only the Good Die Young Page 13