The Perfect Couple (ARC)

by Jackie Kabler

  He paused, took a breath, and his eyes were suddenly bright and shiny with tears. A little

  ripple of unease ran through me.

  ‘What did? What went wrong, Danny?’

  He was staring at me, clamping his lips together, looking at me with a sudden intensity, a

  slight frown on his face.

  ‘Tell me! Danny, please.’

  There was a long silence, both of us motionless, him still sitting, back rigid, hands clasped

  in front of him on the table, me standing, leaning against the hard edge of the kitchen worktop,

  waiting, a cold creeping sensation sweeping up my spine.

  ‘Danny?’ My voice sounded too loud, too shrill.

  He swallowed.

  ‘I started to kill them,’ he whispered.

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  My stomach rolled. What?

  ‘You … what?’

  What had he just said? I couldn’t have heard that properly, I thought. He couldn’t mean…

  He was standing up now too, walking around the table, moving closer to me. He was still

  talking, talking faster and faster, the words spilling out of him.

  ‘I saw the first one on the app, like I said,’ he said, and his voice sounded hoarse. ‘I didn’t

  think the cops would work that bit out, you know, about the app. Thought I’d covered my

  tracks. They’re not as stupid as I thought. Anyway, I saw him, and I knew I had to meet him.

  This guy, his face … he looked like Dad, Gemma. And like me, of course, in retrospect, but

  isn’t it strange, how that never entered my head, at the time? I just saw Dad. I just saw my

  father’s face. And it was easy, so feckin’ easy. I just set up a fake female profile, picture of a

  beautiful woman, set up a date. Simple as that. It was the night of my stag do, so I went along

  early, before I was due to meet the others at the pub, you know? And as soon as I saw him,

  standing there at the spot we’d arranged to meet at in Richmond Park, all unsuspecting like …’

  His eyes were glazed again, and a terrible fear was beginning to grip me.

  No, Danny, please, please no.

  ‘There’d been a storm, branches down all over the place, and I just felt this rage, this

  anger, like nothing I’d ever felt before, and I just bent down and picked up this fallen branch

  and I just hit him, so hard, and … I just knew, straight away, that I’d killed him. It was that

  easy. And I stood there, and looked at him, looked at him for ages, and I just felt this wave of

  … of peace, and … and relief. It was like a release, you know? As if somehow the healing

  process had begun. I’d never felt like that, like I did in those few minutes, Gemma. It was as if

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  I’d killed him, my father, the monster, the thing, the thing that had caused me so much pain. I

  know it sounds crazy, but … do you get it, Gemma? Do you understand?’

  He moved a step closer, and I stood there frozen, my eyes wide, fixed on his face. Was

  this real? Had my husband really just told me he’d killed somebody? My brain didn’t seem to

  be working properly, and a strange numbness was beginning to spread through me, upwards

  from my toes, my legs rigid and heavy, my stomach contracting. I stared at him, and opened

  my mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

  Richmond Park? One of the London murders being linked to the Bristol cases had

  happened in Richmond Park, hadn’t it? Did that mean? … please, no …

  ‘I felt good, for a while.’

  He was talking again, and his eyes had taken on a slightly wild look now, casting around

  the room, not looking at me.

  ‘But then a few weeks after we got married, I went for a drink after work, and I just saw

  this guy, on the other side of the bar, and again, he looked a bit like Dad. He did, Gemma. Like

  it was my father, just sitting there, and I know, I know, there are a lot of guys around who look

  a bit like Dad, a bit like me, when you think about it … dark hair, dark eyebrows. But at the

  time, well, it was like fate, you know? I thought, here’s another one, sent to me. So I went over,

  and I said, “hey, are you my long-lost brother, look at us!” some bollocks like that, and we got

  chatting, and then he said he needed to get back home to his girlfriend, so I followed him. He

  got on the tube, I got on the tube … he’d left his car at Hounslow West tube station, parked in

  a nice dark corner, and even when I got there, watching him from the shadows, I wasn’t sure if

  it was going to happen again; I thought I might be able to control it that time, you know, but it

  was like the rage took me over, Gemma. It took me over. And so I grabbed something that was

  lying on the ground, I think it was a broken exhaust pipe, something like that, it was just there,

  and … well, the same thing again. The relief, the peace.’

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  ‘The dead man,’ I whispered. My throat was beginning to constrict, and I wondered if

  soon I might not be able to breathe. Was this real? Was I really hearing this?

  Danny laughed, then his face grew serious again.

  ‘The dead man,’ he said softly.

  We looked at each other for a moment, then he took another step towards me. I could

  smell a faint odour, a mix of sweat and aftershave, sour and sweet. My mobile phone had started

  ringing again. Danny glanced towards the door to the hall, but the ringing stopped, the call

  going to voicemail. He looked back at me.

  ‘And then, nothing. I was OK. I felt better,’ he said. ‘I thought, that’s it. I’m OK, I’m over

  it, I can finally move on. Everything was good, for ages. I had you, we were planning our

  future, and everything was going to be OK. And somehow, I’d got away with it, too. Killing

  them, I mean. I hadn’t touched either of them, not with my hands, my body, so I knew there

  wouldn’t be any DNA or anything, and the two murder weapons … I’d got rid of those, stuck

  them in my backpack, chucked them away miles from where I’d used them. Even remembered

  to get rid of the app on the first one’s phone, and wiped all his emails so there’d be no evidence

  of any communication between us. Came in handy, having the job I do. It wasn’t hard. I had

  access to software to hide my own IP address, all that stuff. I won’t bore you with it, but I knew

  they’d never find me. But it didn’t last long, the peace. A few months later, it was back again,

  the anger, the hatred, and I knew I wasn’t done, Gemma. But I also knew that my luck couldn’t

  last, that one day soon it would run out. And I didn’t want to spend my life in prison, Gem. I

  couldn’t handle it. And so there was only one solution. To run. To disappear, and start a new

  life, with a new identity, away from it all. Away from what I’d done.’

  His words were calm, but there was a crazed look in his eyes now.

  ‘I could have killed myself, that would have been one solution, of course,’ he said. ‘And

  I did consider that, briefly. But then I thought, what a waste. I have so much to give, Gemma.

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  I thought, maybe I could go and work with victims of domestic violence somewhere, give

  something back, redeem myself … but I thought about you too, you know? I put money aside

  for you, lots of money, you would have been OK, for a while at least … I did think about you,

  you know that, don’t you? You know I loved you right? So, anyway, we moved to Bristol, and

  the plan was all coming together beauti
fully. My plan, to get away, as I already told you. Except

  then …’

  I was starting to feel sick, my stomach lurching.

  He sighed.

  ‘Well, then there were a couple of little blips. And I’m assuming you’ve guessed what

  those blips were, by now, haven’t you?’

  The tone of his voice had changed suddenly, a manic edge creeping into it, and a shiver

  ran down my spine. He seemed to be waiting for me to reply, looking at me quizzically, as if

  he’d just asked me to solve a riddle. His dark eyes looked almost black, and his lips twitched

  as if he was about to laugh. I nodded, my hands gripping the edge of the worktop behind me,

  my head beginning to swim. I felt faint. Yes, I’d guessed. Of course I’d guessed.

  ‘The two Bristol murders. The two men who died on The Downs. You killed them, as

  well,’ I said, my voice barely audible. ‘You’re the serial killer.’

  He did laugh then, throwing his head back, then stopped abruptly.

  ‘I suppose I am,’ he said. ‘Well, that’s what they’ll call me, isn’t it?’

  He looked at me questioningly, then carried on talking.

  ‘That fucking app … it was too easy, finding people who fitted, who had the right look,

  and when the urge struck again in Bristol … well, you know. Used the fake female profile, met

  them early evening, when it was dark. The first one was a keen runner, so I said I was too and

  suggested we meet up on The Downs for a run and then go on for a drink. Told the second one

  I lived round the corner and suggested we meet in that side alley. Only took a few minutes each

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  time. Made sure the weapons I used were dumped where they’d never find them. Easy, easy,

  easy. Somehow, I was able to come home to you and just carry on as normal. It was too easy

  to stop the police finding me too. I wiped the emails and texts from the guys’ phones, and I

  was able to crash the app site, EHU, remotely too, wipe all their search data, just in case anyone

  somehow linked the murders to the app. Look, I saw the news, I know that the police suspected

  you of those too, of all of those murders in fact, and I am sorry about that, Gem, honestly. It

  wasn’t fair to put you through that. I wanted them to think maybe you’d hurt me, but I didn’t

  think … I’m so sorry. Still, all’s well that ends well, isn’t it? You’re in the clear, and the cops

  want to charge me but they won’t find me. Gemma. I’m way ahead of them. I’m going to get

  away and start afresh, and I won’t have to hurt anyone ever again. I’m done now. You probably

  don’t believe that, not after what I’ve just told you, but I am. I’ve finally got my bastard of a

  father out of my system, and it’s all over, and …’

  He smiled, then his brow crinkled.

  ‘There’s just one little thing, which I hope won’t be a problem. Had a bit of a cock-up,

  last week. Was having a bad day, the day Quinn met up with you. I was nervous, wondering

  why you’d called him and what you and he were chatting about, wondering if the cops were

  getting close to finding me. I’d seen the press, I knew they were linking the London and Bristol

  murders, and I needed to do something, to calm the nerves and, bad idea in retrospect, I decided

  to have one more go on the app. Found this guy, yet another Daddy lookalike – there are so

  many of them, Gem, so many! – and persuaded him to meet me, or my female persona I should

  say, there and then. But just after I’d hit him, this bloke comes into the alleyway. My own fault,

  it was far too risky, meeting up at that time in a place like that … so I ran, but the hammer I’d

  used slipped out of my hand, and I thought they’d probably twig that was what had been used

  to attack him, and maybe that they’d be able to link it to me. I’d worn gloves, but I was hot,

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  sweating, and some of it might have dripped, I don’t know, maybe not … but also, I didn’t

  have time to delete the app from his phone, you know, the EHU app, so maybe …’

  He was talking quickly again, a crazed look in his eyes, and I shrank back against the

  worktop, the wood digging into my back. He was sick, really, really sick, I realized now.

  Mentally ill, deranged. How could I have lived with a mentally ill man for so long and not

  known it? How? My head was buzzing, words rushing through it on repeat.

  My husband is a serial killer, my husband is a serial killer …

  ‘Quinn did well, when he met you. Put on a good show, by the sound of it. He’s been so

  good to me, Quinn. He was shocked, of course he was, when I first told him about the men I’d

  hurt … killed. Was still killing. I mean, who wouldn’t be shocked? He nearly lost his shit, told

  me he loved me and he’d always had my back but this, this was way beyond what he could

  help me with. But when I explained why, he got it, eventually, you know? Quinn’s a funny

  one, really. Got some real morals when it comes to adultery, to infidelity. He would have gone

  bloody mental if he knew I was shagging around. I didn’t tell anyone, none of my friends knew

  about that. The shame again, I suppose. And Quinn would have gone ballistic at me. But this

  … even though this was a million times worse, a billion times worse, he knew what had

  happened to me as a kid, what had happened to my ma, and he got it. It took time, but he finally

  agreed to help. Help me get away.’

  Quinn’s reaction when I mentioned Bridget, I thought. That makes sense now too. He

  knew about everything, he knew why she hated Danny so much.

  Danny was still talking.

  ‘He made me promise that when I did go, that I wouldn’t hurt anyone else, obviously.

  When I slipped up, when the Bristol ones happened, he went mad again, nearly pulled out. Two

  was bad enough, but four … but he was committed by then, and he was already helping a killer,

  I told him. Did it really make that much difference, whether it was two bodies or four? So he

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  stayed with me. He was struggling with it by then, really struggling, but he stayed with me. But

  things had obviously got pretty serious at that point, and after the cock-up in the alley that was

  when Quinn started sending you messages. I didn’t want to scare you, Gemma, I didn’t. But

  we knew I’d screwed up, and we hoped you’d show them to the police … he just thought if the

  cops thought that somebody else thought you were the killer, and was threatening you, that

  might keep their attention on you and give me more time to get away. Except then Quinn fucked

  up, didn’t he? The stress got to him. Used his own phone for that last message instead of the

  cheap throwaway one he was meant to use. And that brought the cops round to our door, and,

  well, here I am. Clearly they haven’t linked me to that bloke in the alley, not yet anyway. But

  I might not have much time, Gemma. I need to get out of here.’

  He took another step towards me, and reached out a hand, running a finger gently down

  my cheek, his eyes fixed on mine. I glanced at Albert, and he growled softly, his hackles raised.

  He took a few steps towards us and I swallowed hard as Danny continued to stroke my cheek,

  trying not to flinch. I needed him to go, I needed to get to my phone, I thought frantically. I

  needed help, fast.

  Get him out of here, then call the police. Go, Danny. Go. Please.

  ‘So, are we OK, Gemma? I’ve told yo
u everything now, and it’s over, OK? And I promise,

  I promise, that I’ll never do anything like that again, Gem. So we’re OK, aren’t we? You

  promised not to say anything, and you won’t, will you? You’ll keep your promise?’

  He moved even closer, his lips brushing my earlobe, his voice lowering to a whisper.

  ‘Quinn’s been driving around, waiting for me. I’ll call him in a minute, and he’ll come

  and get me, get us both to the airport,’ he said. ‘It’s just the two of you now, who know what

  really happened these past few months. And I can trust Quinn. He’s family. He’s decided to

  come with me for now, and I know that whatever happens in the future, he’ll never tell what

  he knows. He hates it, what I’ve done. But he’s part of it now. He’s always had my back and

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  he always will. And you will too, Gem, won’t you? You’re family too, and we still love each

  other, don’t we? Despite everything? So promise me again. Promise me one more time that

  you’ll say nothing, that you’ll forget all about what I’ve just told you. Please. Promise me. And

  then I’ll go.’

  For a moment I stood there, frozen, horrified, incredulous. Yes, I’d promised not to tell

  anyone his little secret, but that was before, that was when I thought the secret was that he’d

  met some other woman or something … something small, something stupid, something

  inconsequential. Not this. Not this … this horror story. He expected me to keep quiet about

  this? How could anyone …?

  Suddenly, unexpectedly, a white-hot flood of rage surged through me, and in one swift

  moment I raised my hands and pushed him hard in the chest, so hard that, taken by surprise, he

  staggered backwards, almost falling over.

  ‘NO!’ I screamed.

  His eyes widened, shock registering on his face.

  ‘What?’

  ‘NO!’ I yelled again. ‘NO, I WILL NOT KEEP QUIET ABOUT THIS! WHAT THE

  HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU, DANNY?’

  He opened his mouth to speak, taking a step towards me, but I held up a hand.

  ‘Stay away from me, Danny.’

  ‘But …’

  ‘Stay away from me.’

  My mind was racing. How to play this? He must know, he must, that I couldn’t keep this

  quiet. That I wouldn’t. But how far would he go to stop me? He’d killed people, he’d just told