“Please, just let me go,” he pleaded loudly over the cries.
“You’re not going anywhere.” He winced as the baby’s shrieking increased. “I wanna know how the hell you know my name. And no more bullshit, or I swear to God I’ll blow your brains out all over that wall! And no one’s gonna hear it.”
Finding it difficult to breathe, Richard could feel tears trickle down his cheeks, onto his lips. He wanted to answer his question—but how could he? No one would ever believe it. But then, how could he not say with a shotgun pointed directly at him? He decided to go for broke. “I know what you’ve done.” He couldn’t quite believe what he was about to say, but was unable to stop himself. “I know what you did to Christina Long. And so do the police.” He glanced at the window. “The house is surrounded by them.”
Peter’s face changed from a look of anger to shock. “What the hell are you talking about?” he said, without conviction. “Who’s Christina Long?”
Unconvinced by Peter’s failure to come clean, Richard continued. “You know exactly who Christina Long is. There’s no point denying it. The police know everything about what you did to her. They’ve been watching you for weeks.”
With an unsure look on his face, Peter continued aiming the gun at him and walked backwards over to the window, pulling the curtain slightly to the side. The sun shone through the open curtain as he scanned his farm. “There’s no one out there. You’re full of shit.”
“Do you really think they’d let you see them? They’re hiding. They’re not stupid.”
“I don’t know who you think I am, but I’ve never even heard of this woman.”
“You can deny it all you want, but they’re out there. Waiting for you.”
“I don’t believe you,” he said, moving away from the window. “You’re just some attention-seeking nutter.”
Richard shook his head, keeping his eyes locked on the gun. “I’m not. And I’m telling you the truth. That’s why I’m here—to talk you out.”
Peter’s hand had started to shake, causing the shotgun to quiver. Beads of sweat had gathered on his brow. He wiped them away quickly with his sleeve. “You’re talking shit,” he stuttered. “Nobody even knows I’m up here.”
“They know everything, Peter.”
“Bullshit.”
“They’ve been to your house on Old Hall Street. They know you kept Christina locked in the house.”
“Bullshit!” Peter screamed, his voice quivery.
“They know you tied her to the bed.”
“You’re lying!” He was now almost in tears, with the tip of the gun pointing down at the floor.
“They know you brought her body here.”
“How the hell…”
“And they know you took her baby.”
Stunned, Peter turned to the child, who had stopped crying. “This is my baby. And no one’s gonna take him away from me.”
Richard, as discreetly as possible, tried to pull his ankles and wrists apart to create enough space to pull his hands and feet out. “He’s not your baby. He doesn’t belong to you.”
“Yes he does. He’s mine!”
Richard’s feet were almost through the rope’s loop. “No he’s not. And they’re gonna come for you. But I promised them that you’d go quietly. They know what you’ve been through, they understand. That’s why they agreed to send me in first.”
“Bullshit!”
“It’s not bullshit. It’s the truth. They know absolutely everything. They know that you loaded Christina’s body into the boot of her car. They know you wrapped her up in a white sheet. They know she was wearing a white dress the day you took her. And they even know about your sister’s involvement.”
“It’s got nothing to do with my sister! You leave her out of this!”