The One
Page 15

 John Marrs

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‘I mean, it could be love or the beer might be off,’ he joked. ‘Who knows?’
‘So was it love at first fart?’
‘I reckon I did feel something and sorry if that makes you feel awkward or if you’re not thinking the same, but I’m really glad you agreed to meet me.’
‘So am I,’ replied Ellie, and she felt something warm inside her stir. Whether it was the four gin and tonics or the unlikely but endearing Match sitting in front of her, instinct told her that the landscape in her world had suddenly tilted.
Chapter 21
MANDY
‘I’m sorry,’ Mandy mumbled, overcome with feelings of nausea. ‘I really need to go.’
Suddenly the last place she wanted to be was at the remembrance service for a man she’d never met. She’d never expected to be questioned by his sister as to why she was making up anecdotes about him.
She felt the walls closing in on her and regretted coming. But as she was about to hurry away, Richard’s sister, Chloe, grabbed Mandy’s arm.
‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘You need to tell me who you are and why you’re lying about you spending time with my brother when it never happened.’
‘I … I …’ Mandy stuttered.
‘Were you even friends with Richard?’
Mandy said nothing.
‘I thought not. You’re, what, ten years older than him? So you didn’t go to school together. Are you one of those horny older women he trained at the gym who kept trying it on with him? Or are you some weirdo who gets her kicks from crashing funerals for people you never knew?’
‘No!’ Mandy was eager for Richard’s sister not to think badly of her, though she understood how it looked. ‘I’m none of those things.’
‘Then who are you and why are you here?’
Mandy closed her eyes tightly. ‘We were DNA Matched.’
‘What?’
‘I did the Match Your DNA test a few weeks ago, and I found out my Match had also done the test. But when I … wanted to meet him.’ Mandy paused, feeling like an idiot. ‘He’d … he’d died. It was Richard.’
Chloe paused and eyed Mandy up and down. ‘You’re lying again.’
‘I promise you, I’m not. Look.’ Mandy opened her handbag and showed Chloe a printout of the email confirming their Match.
‘Why are you here?’ Chloe’s tone softened as she digested the information before her.
‘It sounds daft when I say it out loud, but I wanted to say goodbye to him. I’ve spent the last few weeks mourning a man I’ve never met and I wanted to find out more about him. Everyone here has these great memories of your brother and I have nothing, just a name and some pictures I found online. When I was listening to them talk about him, I got carried away and made up my own story. I’m sorry, it was silly and thoughtless, and I’m old enough to know better. I didn’t mean to upset you.’
‘I think I get it,’ said Chloe, taking two glasses of wine from the table and passing one to Mandy. ‘So what do you want to know about Rich?’
Mandy’s cheeks reddened. ‘Now I’m talking to you, I don’t really know where to start.’
‘That’s our mum over there, let me introduce you …’
‘No!’ said Mandy, panicking. ‘I don’t think I’m ready for that.’
‘Well, why don’t you leave me your contact details and we can stay in touch for when you are.’ Chloe handed her phone to Mandy. ‘Maybe you could come round to the house and meet her some time?’
Mandy nodded, and apprehensively typed her telephone number. ‘I should be going,’ she said. ‘It was nice to meet you. And I’m so very sorry about Richard.’
‘I’m sorry too,’ Chloe replied. ‘I’m sorry for the both of you.’
Mandy kept her head down as she passed Richard’s mother on her way out of the church and hurried back towards her car. What had begun as a way to learn more about her late Match was supposed to have given her closure.
Instead, something told Mandy it was only the beginning.
Chapter 22
CHRISTOPHER
‘You fucking bitch!’ Christopher yelled, trying to prise his throbbing, gloved thumb from the inside of her mouth.
She continued to clamp down upon it until Christopher thought she was going to hit the bone. But he couldn’t let go of the wire around her neck until the job was done.
His ninth killing over a five-week period was supposed to have been as straightforward as all the others and, just as he had with the other women, he’d done his homework on his latest target and had carried out a full recce on where she lived.
Security cameras were the potential downfall of any criminal, so he ruled out girls whose properties were located near to areas of high concentration, such as those where they were affixed to lamp posts, shops, schools, offices or blocks of flats. Other cameras to avoid included CCTV on buses and in bus-only lanes, taxis, tube stations, speed cameras or vehicle number plate recognition systems. As long as Christopher steered clear, there was no reason why his presence in such vicinities should ever be flagged up after an event.
Once outside Number Nine’s house, he double-checked her location on his GPS, and after waiting patiently for a period of time to make sure she was alone, he put his plastic overshoes over his own trainers so as not to leave any unique marks. He picked the lock of the back door using his same trusted kit and entered the flat, closing the door quietly behind him.
Once in position, he removed a white billiard ball from his backpack and dropped it to the floor, so it landed with a real thud. He stood in place with his hands gripped around the cheese wire’s wooden handles, waiting for her to open her bedroom door to investigate the noise.
Number Nine’s death should have followed a familiar, failsafe pattern. Once she was in front of him, he would spring into action, forcing the last breath of life from her lungs with his garrotte, arrange her still-warm body with gruesome symmetry across the kitchen floor and take two Polaroid pictures of her. Numbers One to Eight had been too stunned to put up much of a resistance, other than to clumsily claw at the wire to try to lever it off. The element of surprise combined with his strength and determination were always too powerful for them to surmount. He only stopped when he felt the wire sever their skin and begin to slice through muscle. If he allowed it to go any deeper, it would be too messy and he didn’t have the inclination to spend the remainder of his night in the midst of a full-scale clean up.
However, Number Nine took a twist when, much to his consternation, it was the bathroom door that opened after the billiard ball dropped – she had not been asleep in the bedroom as he’d assumed. He had jumped from the shadows and she saw him face on. She had been too slow to prevent the wire from encircling her neck and he’d moved swiftly behind her to pull on it with force. She was still wearing her heels and their lack of grip against the tiled floor made her lose her footing. She slipped backwards to the floor, knocking Christopher off balance and he fallen down with her.
In the confusion, the wire became slack and she managed to slide her fingers under it allowing her to continue breathing. She’d also turned her head, found his thumb and sunk her teeth into it with a vice-like grip.
‘Fuuuuuck!’ Christopher yelled from behind his mask and balaclava, and for the briefest of moments, he considered releasing his tight grip, the pain in his thumb increasing. He pulled her head backwards and pounded it against the kitchen floor. By the time he heard her skull crack, her jaw had loosened just enough for him to pull his thumb from her mouth. He slammed her head twice more against the floor until the blood pooled in the grouting between the tiles and he knew there was no coming back for her.