‘Look, I’m not a killer. You have to believe me.’
‘He tied her up and put her in the boot of his car. That’s a long drive in that condition. A real long drive. That alone could have killed her. There used to be a bath right there,’ he says, pointing to the far corner behind me. ‘No plumbing, just an old tub that suited the décor of this place. He kept her in the boot while he carried buckets to the river that runs about a minute west of here. It had to be close enough so he wouldn’t have to walk far. He filled the bathtub with freezing cold water and he held her down in it. You want to know why?’
‘This is a mistake,’ I say, but he’s off somewhere, living in the past.
‘He didn’t like the fact she was moving on without him. So he drowned her. And then he revived her. And drowned her again. He had her up here for six days, drowning and reviving her until she couldn’t be revived any more. We found him when he came back into the city. He led us here. He’d put her back in the bath. He said he was cleaning her. We took the bath away as evidence and left this cabin standing. You want to know why?’
‘Please, listen to me, you have to let me explain what happened. I didn’t kill them, I tried to save them. I tried to …’
‘It wasn’t cost-effective. That’s what they said. Didn’t want to pay anybody to drive up here with a sledgehammer and knock this shithole down. I haven’t been here since then. And I haven’t seen anything as sick until now. So when you say you understand, that’s bullshit. You don’t understand anything other than how it feels to cause pain.’
He’s wrong about me. Yeah, sure, the world has gone to shit. Everybody hates somebody, nobody likes anybody, people fight for no reason or for every reason. We hear it all the time. The media drums it into us every single day. Only right now I’m in the process of becoming one of those statistics. Sure, Landry feels justified in killing me but I don’t feel justified in dying.
‘Listen, if you’ll just …‘
His eyes narrow and his jaw clenches. ‘You’ll get your chance to explain things, Feldman, you’ll get your chance when I’m good and ready, but for now I just need you to be quiet, okay? I need to think.’
‘About what?’
He grits his teeth, and for a moment looks down at his feet. When he looks up again I can see confusion in his eyes. It lasts only a second because he sees me and the anger returns.
‘Q and A, Feldman. You get that? I ask, you answer. So let’s start with a fairly simple one. You think you can handle that?’
I say yes and he seems happy.
‘Who has the gun?’ he asks.
‘You do.’ It’s a big gun. No missing it.
‘Who here is the officer of the law?’
‘You are,’ I say, though at the moment that’s a rather fine distinction to make.
‘Who’s wearing the handcuffs?’
‘I am.’
‘Who’s on trial?’
‘I am.’
‘So who’s asking the questions?’
‘You are.’
‘So you would be?’
I shrug. ‘Answering,’ I say.
‘Are things clear enough?’
‘They’re way too clear.’
‘Good, so you’ll shut up unless I’ve asked you something.’
He lifts the shotgun, crosses his legs, then replaces it. The barrel points at the wall. His hands are shaking slightly. We both notice this at the same time. I want to tell him he’s not only drawn the wrong conclusions, but also painted an entirely wrong picture. I want to tell him he’s a lunatic.
I raise my left hand to my jaw – my right follows because of the handcuffs. I move slowly because I don’t want Landry misinterpreting any movement as a violent attempt to attack him. My jaw is throbbing. I’m lucky he didn’t dislocate it. After a few minutes of silence he continues.
‘I’ve brought a Bible along, Feldman. It’s in my bag. I’d offer it to you to swear upon but I think it would be pointless.’ His eyes narrow and he sweeps his hand through his grey hair. ‘I know what it’s like to no longer believe in God and I can’t imagine you ever did.’
I’m thinking the same thing. My life seems to have gone back to that game show, only now up for grabs is the opportunity to kill me, and it seems everybody is banging on their buzzer to have a turn. I wonder who the game-show host is then realise it’s my new friend Evil.
He crouches forward in his chair. ‘What do you believe in, Feldman?’
‘A fair trial.’
He gives what sounds like a nervous laugh, then starts picking at a stain on his right knee but only smudges it wider. He keeps itching at it then looks up at me, expressionless.
‘You’re nothing more than a stain, Feldman.’
The Killing Hour
Paul Cleave's books
- The Face of a Stranger
- The Silent Cry
- The Sins of the Wolf
- The Dark Assassin
- The Whitechapel Conspiracy
- The Sheen of the Silk
- The Twisted Root
- The Lost Symbol
- After the Funeral
- The Adventure of the Christmas Pudding
- After the Darkness
- The Best Laid Plans
- The Doomsday Conspiracy
- The Naked Face
- The Other Side of Me
- The Sands of Time
- The Sky Is Falling
- The Stars Shine Down
- The Lying Game #6: Seven Minutes in Heaven
- The First Lie
- All the Things We Didn't Say
- The Good Girls
- The Heiresses
- The Perfectionists
- The Sacred Lies of Minnow Bly
- The Lies That Bind
- Ripped From the Pages
- The Book Stops Here
- The New Neighbor
- A Cry in the Night
- The Phoenix Encounter
- The Dead Will Tell: A Kate Burkholder Novel
- The Perfect Victim
- Fear the Worst: A Thriller
- The Naturals, Book 2: Killer Instinct
- The Fixer
- The Good Girl
- Cut to the Bone: A Body Farm Novel
- The Devil's Bones
- The Bone Thief: A Body Farm Novel-5
- The Bone Yard
- The Breaking Point: A Body Farm Novel
- The Inquisitor's Key
- The Girl in the Woods
- The Dead Room
- The Death Dealer
- The Silenced
- The Hexed (Krewe of Hunters)
- The Night Is Alive
- The Night Is Forever
- The Night Is Watching
- In the Dark
- The Betrayed (Krewe of Hunters)
- The Cursed
- The Dead Play On
- The Forgotten (Krewe of Hunters)
- Under the Gun
- The Paris Architect: A Novel
- The Darling Dahlias and the Silver Dollar Bush
- Always the Vampire
- The Darling Dahlias and the Confederate Rose
- The Darling Dahlias and the Cucumber Tree
- The Darling Dahlias and the Naked Ladies
- The Darling Dahlias and the Texas Star
- The Doll's House
- The Garden of Darkness
- The Creeping
- The Long Way Home