The One
Page 53

 John Marrs

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It hadn’t been easy to devote time to either, particularly when he and Amy spent every other evening and weekend together. And it didn’t leave him with many opportunities to keep regular tabs on the remaining five women. He’d check his computers when possible and occasionally resorted to drugging Amy’s drinks with a small measure of propofol he’d purchased from the dark web, which rendered her unconscious for up to seven hours at a time. That left him undisturbed to continue his research at home until the early hours or, in the cases of numbers Twenty-Four and Twenty-Five, snuff them out before a groggy Amy awoke.
Amy had been the first to hesitantly use the ‘L’ word, surprising him as they took her sister’s dog for a walk across Hampstead Heath one morning. Oscar, the scruffy, ginger Border Terrier, had been staying with her for a week while her sister was away on holiday and, while Christopher didn’t see the point in pets, he liked how he felt when the three of them went for long walks together, their arms linked. He told her that he loved her too and, while he’d said the same to several partners over the years, it’d always been in order to get something from them. With Amy, it was the first time he had meant it.
He permitted himself to imagine what it could be like if they remained this way for the rest of their lives. Maybe one day they could even buy a dog of their own, he thought, or a house in a countryside village? A marriage and a family of their own might follow. Everything he’d assumed he didn’t want or need was now appearing very likely, and it was all because of his DNA Match.
When Amy wasn’t around, he found himself thinking about her, and when she was in his vicinity, he felt something he could only compare to the thrill of killing. Or at least how killing used to feel when he’d first started all those months ago, because now it was different; Amy had made everything different. She made his skin feel tender to the touch even when she wasn’t touching him; his eyes softened as they followed her around a room and he longed for the nights he could finally complete his project so that he could spend undistracted time with her instead.
Even the act of murder no longer felt as joyous as it once had. The final gasps that had once been music to his ears were now simply a means to an end. Revisiting the women’s homes days later to leave a photograph of his next victim was a chore. Everything that did not involve Amy was burdensome.
Their lives together were quite secluded – neither had yet shared the other with an outside party. Christopher had no one to call a friend, but he’d lied and told her how his university pals were now spread out internationally and that it was problematic for them to see each other regularly. In truth, he had never been to university and the only people he had occasional contact with were his two older brothers. And, if put on the spot, he wouldn’t be able to remember the names of all five of his nieces and nephews, or who was the offspring of whom.
Likewise, Amy hadn’t mentioned Christopher to any member of her family. She’d explained that being the only girl and the youngest of five children, her protective parents and siblings didn’t approve of her dangerous job as a police officer. And they couldn’t understand why she, as yet, had no desire to marry, settle down and start a family of her own.
‘I want to continue with my career for at least another three years,’ she’d explained. ‘My parents are from a different generation and haven’t done the test, but they believe in it and, if I told them I’d met my Match, the pressure they’d put on us would be relentless. I’ll tell them about you eventually.’
‘Do your work colleagues know you’re seeing me?’ Christopher asked, hoping she’d boasted about her wealthy, handsome boyfriend – who just so happened to be the police’s most wanted man.
‘They know I’m dating, but I haven’t told them it’s anything serious. I like keeping you as my dirty little secret.’
Christopher smiled to mask his disappointment. The mischievous side of him wanted to meet her colleagues, especially those investigating his case. He’d pictured himself enthusiastically shaking their hands without them knowing just how close they were to the killer they were hunting.
‘That’s fine,’ he replied. ‘We all have our dirty little secrets, don’t we?’
Chapter 73
JADE
It had been close to a fortnight since Kevin’s funeral and Jade was feeling increasingly claustrophobic living in the confines of his family’s farm.
To watch someone die so young was both heartbreaking and inspiring. Kevin had wanted so desperately to embrace life but had been robbed of the opportunity, and the best way that she could pay tribute to him was to begin the next chapter of her life by immersing herself in what the world had to offer.
Kevin had left no will and owned very few possessions, but on his parents’ suggestion, she would return her rental car and take Kevin’s old four-by-four on the journey she’d planned down the east coast of Australia. ‘It’ll be like he’s with you,’ Dan had told her. She planned to stay in backpacking hostels rather than hotels, so she could meet other people her age and experience the kind of travelling she had missed out on when her uni friends had gone to America.
Jade estimated five weeks would be long enough to see what she wanted to see, then she’d drive back towards Victoria, drop Kevin’s truck off and bid one last farewell to his family before returning to England. Only once she was home, she wouldn’t simply go back to her former life – she could never do that now – she would begin a brand new one. If Kevin’s death had taught her anything, it was that life should be lived, not viewed from afar.
Mark’s refusal to acknowledge her since the funeral wounded her. She’d offered his parents support and a shoulder to cry on whenever they needed it, but she and Mark had not shared a moment since those first few minutes after Kevin’s death.
Being in his proximity was a Herculean task. Every time she saw him, or even sensed his immediacy, she had to hold back the urge to confront him – or throw herself at him. The fireworks were still there when she looked at him. At certain times, like when he was lifting bales of hay for the cows or finishing the day with an early dip in the pool, and when she thought he wasn’t looking, she’d snatch a glimpse of his firm frame and strong muscles.
Jade too had grown accustomed to going for a cooling swim before heading to bed – a treat she knew she’d miss when she left the farm to begin her travels. And, she had to admit to herself, she’d taken to her nightly swims in the hope that she’d bump into Mark, although this hadn’t happened yet. On this particular night, as she turned underwater to begin her fifth length, his figure at the other side of the pool caught her attention.
Mark stood under an open parasol, watching her every stroke. She stopped and wiped the chlorine from her eyes in case she was imagining his gaze. She stood on her tiptoes in the middle of the pool, and the two stared at each other in silence until Jade could no longer control herself.
‘What?’ she shouted. ‘What do you want from me?’
‘Nothing,’ Mark replied, a surprised look on his face.
‘Then why are you staring at me?’
‘I’m not.’
‘You barely talk to me for days, you walk past me and ignore me, you leave the room as soon as I enter. Clearly I’ve offended you and now you’re standing there watching me swim. You’re doing my head in, man. So I’ll ask you again, what do you want from me?’