One by One: A brutal, gritty revenge thriller that you won't be able to put down.

by Robert Enright

  It was now only his.

  He held the key in his hand and took a deep breath. He heard Alex's car start, the engine purring before vanishing into the night with the headlights big and bright.

  He unlocked the door and pushed it open. Nothing but empty darkness.

  It was a feeling Lucas was becoming familiar with.

  The next five days passed as they normally did, however Lucas didn't know when one day slipped into the next. He was neither awake nor asleep, seamlessly drifting from one room to the next without a memory of how he’d arrived there.

  The phone rang constantly, names he’d forgotten offering condolences which failed to register.

  He had visitors at the house, friendly faces that he couldn't place, offering genuine affection that he would never remember.

  Life had become one long trance, as if he was floating through a horrible, never-ending dream. No one had questioned his decision to not go into work. John, at least Lucas thought it was John, had told him to take as much time as he needed. He had a vague recollection that he had a morning routine, but he never even tried to remember.

  It was five days of not quite being there, days in which Lucas never left the house. The only thing he focused on was planning the funeral alongside Helen's parents, although they spoke very little.

  Words had lost weight and meaning.

  Everything had become a tedious exercise in existing.

  Even tying the knot in his black tie felt superfluous, his hands on autopilot. He looked around the bedroom he used to share with his beloved, all of her possessions exactly how she’d left them.

  All, except the jewellery box that she kept on her dressing table. It now sat proudly on the bedside table, Lucas opening the lid and listening to the clunky tune chiming fragilely as the ballerina pirouetted. It helped him drift off on the rare occasions he did sleep. Treasured by his now deceased wife, she had kept it throughout her childhood, using it to store all of her keepsakes in, the majority from her husband.

  He missed her terribly.

  He pulled the blazer over his broad shoulders, fastening it then making his way outside, as ready as he would ever be, to bury his wife.

  The drive was a long, lonely venture, but it gave Fletcher time to rehearse what he would say. Knowing what it was like to lose the person you relied on as a link to the world, he felt for Lucas. He wanted to wrap an arm around him and offer him words of encouragement to fight off the inevitable cage of isolation.

  It was never going to happen.

  He knew the man Lucas had been. He knew how much Helen had done for him, and as he drove to the cemetery, he thought of what that might mean for the future.

  It had been a long time ago, nearly eighteen years since he’d sat opposite Lucas in a police interrogation cell, a scrawny fourteen year-old with hate in his eyes. Ten years since Fletcher had last gone to visit him.

  He knew that he would stand across from him again, only now he would be bigger. Stronger.

  More dangerous.

  Helen had done so much for the man.

  But he could guarantee that the hate in his eyes would still be there.

  As he pulled off the motorway and the wind whipped mercilessly against the side of his car, he knew he wouldn't have long to wait before he found out.

  Lucas couldn't watch as Helen's coffin was ready to be lowered into the immaculate grounds of the cemetery. The bitterness of the wind rattled through his body and he felt an overwhelming sense of oblivion. Life as he had known it was now officially over.

  The cemetery was, despite its overtones of death and loss, a very beautiful place. The grass was well maintained, and the small fields of grave stones were lined by flower beds, with colours bursting through in the spring showers. Large trees overhung the pathways used to navigate the grounds, family members being covered by branches as they approached their loved ones.

  Helen's spot was a wonderful one, at the top of a slight verge overlooking the woodlands to the south of the cemetery. Her parents had chosen the spot, knowing their frequent visits in their daughter’s memory would bring them here often.

  Lucas looked around at the attendees, lines of people who had loved his wife and those who had been touched by her at some point.

  He saw his work colleagues standing a few rows back on the other side of Helen’s final resting place, John wrapping an arm around his wife who sobbed into her handkerchief.

  The priest was intoning his sermon as Helen was committed to the bosom of the earth, his words floating on the wind and barely reaching Lucas. He looked over the rows of black-clad mourners, smart suits and respectful dresses betokening the sadness and heartbreak of the day.

  His mother-in-law stood next to him, crying heavily while whispering a sweet goodbye to her daughter. Her husband, a doting father, held her hand as silent tears fell from him, both staring forlornly at the ground.

  Alex and Dianne stood behind Lucas, Alex resting a reassuring hand on his shoulder when the magnitude of the day threatened to encompass him.

  Behind his work colleagues, situated in the back row, was an old man who appeared familiar. A face from a past that Lucas had tried hard remove.

  He couldn't place him.

  “And so we commit Helen's body to the ground.”

  The priest was entering the final phase of his duty and Lucas forced himself to watch as Helen was finally lowered, the grave digger waiting patiently beyond the trees to the right.

  Everybody said their goodbyes to Helen, the majority through sobs, but others in the silence of their thoughts. The group began to disperse, all heading back to the house he’d shared with Helen to celebrate her memory. Lucas stood for a few moments on his own with his hands stuffed in his pockets, looking down at the varnished box. The flower emblem on the front was striking. On the other side of the wood lay his wife.

  She had been taken from him too soon.

  He clenched his fists inside the pockets, his fingers wrapping around the wedding ring he’d given her all those years ago.

  They took her from me.

  “Lucas.”

  He turned, the voice opening a memory he’d long since locked away. The voice belonged to a friendly face which was lined with sadness. Wrinkles had changed it and the hair atop was thinner and lacking in colour.

  “I am so sorry,” Fletcher offered.

  “Thank you,” Lucas forced an appreciative smile. “It would have meant a lot to Helen that you were here.”

  “You remember me?”

  “Of course I do, Officer.”

  “Oh I haven't been an officer for a while,” Fletcher chuckled. He seemed friendly, but Lucas could sense there was more to his being here.

  “Apologies,” Lucas nodded, making a few movements to suggest he was looking to leave.

  “She was an amazing woman. She did so much for a lot of people.”

  Lucas forced out his tried and trusted smile again and took a few steps away from Fletcher, heading over to the car park.

  “She did a lot for you.”

  Lucas stopped in his tracks. He knew why Fletcher was here. The old man from the past took a few steps towards the recently widowed. The wind blew hard, sweeping up both of their ties, Lucas's fringe flickering as it blew through. Leaves danced down the pathway.

  “I know what it's like, Lucas. It's never easy to bury a loved one.”

  “But I'm not, am I?' Lucas turned, his question rhetorical. “I'm not just burying one.”

  “I know, son. It's not easy, I know.”

  “You know, do you? Someone took away my wife and my unborn child. You know what that's like, do you?”

  Fletcher couldn't answer. He stood silently, the anger rising in Lucas.

  “I am so sorry, Lucas.”

  “Everyone is sorry. I understand.” Lucas clenched his fist around the wedding ring again, trying his hardest to hold onto his calm. “But whoever did this to her is not. And they are still out there.”

  'I know, an
d I wanted to be here today to offer my respects to your remarkable wife, to offer my sincerest condolences and to also assure you that the police are doing everything they can.”

  Lucas shook his head, almost chuckling.

  “It's been five days. Five long days and I haven't had a single phone call to tell me what’s going on. Not one arrest has been made. Not one avenue has been found. I was told in the aftermath that they suspected it was more than one person, but since then, I’ve heard nothing. And you want me to put my faith in that?'

  Fletcher felt small.

  “We’re doing the best we can.”

  The words failed to register with Lucas. He just looked at Fletcher, remembering the conversation they’d had all those years ago. How he felt, out of all of the people in his life at that point, Fletcher was the only one he could trust. And here he was, all these years later, at the worst moment of Lucas's life, feeding him the same line the young officer did at the hospital.

  It needed to be more than that.

  Lucas turned and walked off, wanting to end this day once and for all. Fletcher could only stand and watch, as the angry form of Lucas grew smaller and smaller, taking steps to an anarchy that Fletcher feared might happen.

  Lucas received all of the more intimate condolences, everyone wanting to see how he was and tell him that, if he needed anything, he could call. He politely went through the motions, thanking people for coming and telling them how much it meant.

  In reality, Lucas wanted the house empty.

  He wanted to be alone with his grief, not so he could beat it, but so he could embrace it. He wanted to cry for Helen, but since that final tear had dropped on her death bed he hadn't been able to.

  He couldn't recall much of what had happened since that night; he didn't even know how he’d returned from the funeral. His mind was focused on one thing and one thing only and he wanted to be left alone with that thought.

  Fletcher had headed home from the cemetery and Lucas had felt bad for how their reunion had gone. Fletcher was one of the few people he knew he could trust in a world that was increasingly turning its back on him. The old detective had left a contact card with Alex, along with a promise that if Lucas needed anything he would do his best.

  Lucas would see him soon anyway.

  Without remembering how, Lucas found himself sitting on the edge of his bed in the room that once shook with love but now felt empty and hollow. He leaned back, flicking on the bedside lamp and picking up Helen’s treasured jewellery box.

  He held it in his hand for a few moments, feeling the weight of it and thinking of his wife's beautiful hands reaching into it. He opened it up and instantly, the poorly painted, plastic ballerina danced her never-ending twirl.

  The shrill chimes played an undistinguished tune.

  Lucas sat and watched.

  He listened and he grieved.

  “I can't believe she still had that.”

  Lucas looked up, locking eyes with Kelly. Helen's younger sister stood in the doorway, a look of understanding across her beautiful face. In many ways she looked like Helen: she had the same piercing blue eyes, however her hair was longer and was a dirtier blonde. She was slightly taller than her older sister and she carried herself well when she walked. Like a model.

  Dressed in black, she looked at her brother-in-law warmly, who seemed almost embarrassed to be caught. He slowly closed the box, placing it on the bed covers and pushed himself to his feet.

  'How are you?' Kelly asked as she took a few steps into the room.

  Lucas gave her a nod, not wanting to speak. He opened up the wardrobe, the smell of Helen radiating off her clothes still hanging there. The smell reminded him of home.

  Of happiness.

  Kelly sat down on the edge of the bed, running her hands over the jewellery box, smiling as it filled her with thoughts of her sister.

  “Growing up, Helen always looked after me. I mean, it was silly, she was only a year and a half older, but she seemed so grown up. I always looked up to her. She always made sure she was there for me. Looking out for me.

  “That's just the person she was I guess. Always putting people first. But not with you Lucas. With you, she put herself first because you were what she wanted. And she was so happy with you.”

  Lucas had pulled a sports bag down from the top shelf of the wardrobe, but he let his arms fall to the side upon hearing that final sentence. He took a deep breath and wanted to thank her for reaffirming Helen's belief in their relationship. Kelly opened the box.

  The shrill chimes returned.

  Kelly continued.

  “I know I'm going to miss her. I feel bad that I don't right now but it's because it hasn't sunk in. But when it does, I know I'm going to want her above all other people. My big sister. The one person who kept me calm during moments of anger and the one who always held me tightly through the moments of pain.”

  Lucas was slowly stuffing a few t-shirts into his bag, along with pairs of socks and boxer shorts. Kelly closed the lid slowly, the chimes quieting before being shut out from the world. She stood up, wiping away a tear that had tried to clamber down her cheek. Lucas turned to face her. She sniffed back a few tears before speaking.

  “Please don’t let everything she did to help you become the man you are unravel.”

  She held out the jewellery box, the final link to Helen Lucas could hold on to. The unravelling had already begun and he looked beyond Kelly to the doorway.

  Helen was standing there, her incomplete form haunting the hall way. She looked longingly at her husband, whose eyes were transfixed on her.

  “Take it, Lucas,” her voice echoed, “Please take it.”

  Kelly looked up at her brother-in-law, his eyes looking beyond her and into the vast distance of a life alone. She loved Lucas, he was a wonderful man and had treated her sister so well. She knew he blamed himself and she wanted to wrap her arms around him and tell him he wasn't alone in his grief.

  That he still had a family.

  The spectre of Helen spoke, but only to Lucas.

  “Please don't go, Lucas.”

  Lucas snapped back into the room, Kelly refocused in his vision and he could see the tears falling down her cheeks. He gently reached out a hand and placed it on the jewellery box. Very softly he pushed it back towards Kelly.

  “You keep that. Your sister would have wanted you to have it.”

  Kelly sniffed, nodding in agreement. Lucas's words were soft and loving.

  “I'll keep it safe for you.”

  “I won't be coming back.”

  Lucas looked to the doorway, seeing nothing but an empty staircase. Kelly looked down at the jewellery box, running her fingers over its carved pattern.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked, looking up at Lucas. He was a different man. His face was blank as if he’d reset any visible signs of pain. His words were cold and to the point.

  “Helen was left to die alone, scared and in a hell of a lot of pain.”

  Lucas picked up his leather jacket, the last loving gift Helen had given him. He slid his muscular arms in, a sense of purpose radiating off him. He looked at her sister.

  “And they're all going to go the same way.”

  Kelly sobbed gently, knowing this was their goodbye. Lucas picked up his packed bag and approached Kelly. He wiped away one of her tears, granted her one final smile and then turned and left her clutching her sister’s precious possession.

  She heard the front door open and close behind him.

  An extract from ‘Life on the Beat: Memoirs of a thirty-year police officer.’ by Paul Fletcher.

  I always find it rather phony, or rather clichéd, when that moment happens in films. You know the one, when the hero has that moment which causes him to change. When he realises what his mission is. When a new purposes breaks out of his chest like an unwanted alien.

  I always thought it was a ridiculous notion.

  Until I’d seen Lucas.

  It had been s
o long, I’d almost forgotten how innocent his eyes were. I’m not that way inclined, however you can't help but realise he was a handsome man. He and Helen were stunning together.

  What a child they would have had.

  It was the innocence in his eyes that led me to believe him, all those years ago, when he’d sat across from me. Fourteen years-old, and already a lifetime of horrors and bad memories. A world trapped within a bubble of anger. But his eyes never relinquished that pain.

  His eyes called for help.

  Help is what I sought for him. The skipper at the time, Sergeant Horlock, he just wanted to throw the book at him. Book him and send him off to juvie, where he would end up another statistic further down the road and spend a life that would never have compared to the one he’d with Helen.

  She’d been so good for him.

  So good.

  I will never forget that horrible day when she was taken from this world. When someone as good and as pure as she’d been could be wrenched from a life she’d built with her true love and to be thrown away like yesterday’s newspaper.

  And when I’d witnessed the earth swallow her up, her body confined to an eternity inside a small, wooden box, it had broken my heart. It had reminded me of my own daughters, how a few days before that, my eldest, Annabelle, had told me I wasn't good enough. How I couldn't be a part of her family until I realised what it meant.

  Looking at Lucas that day, how could I not understand anymore?

  He’d stared at that hole in the ground, his one and everything being lowered slowly to a place he would never get to. He’d stood calmly, even as the wind had rattled through the cemetery and as the members of his family and faces of his life had drowned the air with their cries of sorrow.

  He’d stared in silence.

  And that was the moment. That clichéd moment.

  Lucas wasn’t the same man he’d been when he’d put on that tie. He’d radiated a purpose, as if he had something he needed to do or somewhere he needed to be.

  I look back on it now and I know I should have done more to convince him to believe in the boys in blue. But how can you stop a force of nature, driven by such sorrow and grief?