Mandy wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and was led inside the small, thatched cottage, up a narrow carpeted stairway and towards a panelled wooden door. Dusty framed photographs of Richard and his family hung from the walls, partially hidden by the half-a-dozen police officers crowding the corridor. One held a black, metal, battering ram, ready to break down the door if necessary.
‘Relax, take deep breaths and talk to Pat in the same way you used to before all this happened,’ Lorraine began. ‘Nice and calm, OK? Don’t get involved in an argument or lose your temper with her. Do you understand me?’
Mandy nodded, unsure how she was going keep a lid on her emotions when she’d spent so much of the last month waiting for this moment to tell her baby’s paternal grandmother what she thought of her.
‘Pat, I have someone here who wants to talk to you,’ Lorraine said, and nodded at Mandy.
Mandy paused and took a few breaths before she spoke. ‘Hello Pat, it’s Mandy.’
She could hear movement, a shuffling sound, in the bathroom, and for the very first time, she also heard her son make a noise, like a delicate whimper. She closed her eyes and wanted to cry – suddenly her son was real, and all that separated them was a few feet of wood and plaster. It was all she could do to stop herself from tearing down the door with her bare hands.
‘Is my baby safe, Pat? Can you just tell me that he’s safe?’
‘He’s fine,’ Pat’s voice inside replied. She sounded exhausted, Mandy thought.
‘Pat, I need to see my son.’
‘I know you do, I just need a little bit longer with him.’
‘You’ve had long enough, Pat. I haven’t seen him at all yet.’
‘He looks like his daddy, don’t you, little man? You have the same eyes and the same colouring.’
‘I can’t wait to meet him.’
Mandy looked towards Lorraine for confirmation that she was saying the right things and Lorraine nodded encouragingly.
‘Why did you take him, Pat? Why did you run away with him? We’ve all been so worried.’
‘I’m sorry, but we had no choice. You weren’t going to let us see him.’
She was right, Mandy thought. Once she’d learned how Pat and Chloe had lied to her about Richard’s death, she wanted to get herself and her baby as far away from them as possible.
‘Of course I would,’ she lied. ‘You’re his grandma. Why would I keep him from you?’
‘I don’t think I believe you, darling, but we had to see if it worked …’ Pat’s voice trailed away.
‘What worked?’
Both the bathroom and the hallway fell silent. ‘Pat, what do you mean? To see if what worked?’
‘We didn’t want to replace Richard like you think we did …’
‘Then why did you take my baby? I don’t understand.’
‘Chloe read somewhere that the children of Matched couples can be powerful enough to bring a parent out of a coma … He was our last hope.’
Mandy looked at Lorraine to see if what Pat was saying was true. Lorraine shrugged.
‘But Richard’s not in a coma, he’s in a permanent vegetative state. They’re two very different things.’
‘I know, but don’t you see, we had to try. We took Richard’s son to the nursing home and we sat with them both for hours, but nothing happened. He didn’t move. My boy just didn’t move …’
Mandy thought she heard gentle sobs coming from behind the door.
‘So why didn’t you bring him back to me then?’
‘I don’t know,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t know. We need to rest now, I’m sorry.’
Mandy felt herself growing more and more anxious. ‘Can I have him back now please Pat?’
There was no response
She repeated herself. ‘Pat!’ she said again, raising her voice.
‘I just need to sleep,’ Pat replied quietly, her voice barely audible. ‘My grandson and I, we need to sleep. When Chloe finds out the truth, please tell her I’m sorry.’
‘What’s she talking about?’ Mandy asked Lorraine, who turned to look at another detective. ‘Lorraine!’ yelled Mandy. ‘What’s going on?’
Mandy felt someone pull her backwards by the shoulders and the police officer with the battering ram slammed it against the door handle, breaking the lock. As three officers charged into the bathroom, Mandy rushed in after them to locate her son.
Slumped on the floor against the side of the bath were the motionless bodies of grandmother and grandson, both with closed eyes and skin as white as snow.
Chapter 97
CHRISTOPHER
Amy knelt before Christopher as he sat restrained in a chair inside the home of what should’ve been his final kill. In her tightly clenched palm Amy held the key that could unlock the handcuffs keeping his ankles bound tightly together.
For a moment, the connection they shared was so powerful, it was like Christopher could read Amy’s mind: when Christopher admitted she was responsible for making him a better person, she believed the sincerity of his words and he didn’t doubt that she still loved him despite the evil inside.
‘The only small mercy I can get from this awful, awful nightmare is that it’s not me who triggered this side of you,’ she said, slipping the key in the lock, ‘because when I pieced together the dates of each murder, they started about three weeks before we met.’
Christopher nodded. ‘This … thing … in my head, that makes me … well, it has nothing to do with you. When we first started dating, I did get a buzz from doing it behind your back, not just my girlfriend’s back, but a police officer’s back. But the more I got to know you, the deeper I fell and the less of a thrill it became. Believe me, I could feel myself becoming someone else the longer we were together.’
Amy stopped turning the key and paused. ‘Then why did you keep killing if you didn’t get a thrill from it anymore?’
‘Sorry?’
‘If I made you a better person, why did you need to keep killing?’
‘Because my goal was always to reach thirty people.’
‘So it wasn’t that you felt a compulsion to do it any more, you just made a choice to do it? It was a conscious decision and nothing to do with what you are?’
‘I guess so.’
‘And then, what? You were just going to stop?’
‘Yes.’
‘What did you hope to get out of it? Recognition? Would you have turned yourself in to the police? Or to me?’
‘No. It was enough knowing that nobody would ever have any idea who I was, why I started and why I stopped just as suddenly.’
‘And what if you didn’t reach thirty? What if you’d put our relationship first and quit? Then what would’ve happened?’
‘I don’t know. I did consider it, but I feared I might grow to resent you for coming between me and what I had planned and that I might—’
‘—kill me too?’
Christopher nodded and something in Amy’s eyes shifted. In a moment of clarity, she removed the key from the still locked handcuffs and rose to her feet. ‘There are so many things I want to ask you, but I don’t know where to begin and I’m afraid of what I’ll hear.’
‘Try me.’
‘Were you born this way?’
‘Relax, take deep breaths and talk to Pat in the same way you used to before all this happened,’ Lorraine began. ‘Nice and calm, OK? Don’t get involved in an argument or lose your temper with her. Do you understand me?’
Mandy nodded, unsure how she was going keep a lid on her emotions when she’d spent so much of the last month waiting for this moment to tell her baby’s paternal grandmother what she thought of her.
‘Pat, I have someone here who wants to talk to you,’ Lorraine said, and nodded at Mandy.
Mandy paused and took a few breaths before she spoke. ‘Hello Pat, it’s Mandy.’
She could hear movement, a shuffling sound, in the bathroom, and for the very first time, she also heard her son make a noise, like a delicate whimper. She closed her eyes and wanted to cry – suddenly her son was real, and all that separated them was a few feet of wood and plaster. It was all she could do to stop herself from tearing down the door with her bare hands.
‘Is my baby safe, Pat? Can you just tell me that he’s safe?’
‘He’s fine,’ Pat’s voice inside replied. She sounded exhausted, Mandy thought.
‘Pat, I need to see my son.’
‘I know you do, I just need a little bit longer with him.’
‘You’ve had long enough, Pat. I haven’t seen him at all yet.’
‘He looks like his daddy, don’t you, little man? You have the same eyes and the same colouring.’
‘I can’t wait to meet him.’
Mandy looked towards Lorraine for confirmation that she was saying the right things and Lorraine nodded encouragingly.
‘Why did you take him, Pat? Why did you run away with him? We’ve all been so worried.’
‘I’m sorry, but we had no choice. You weren’t going to let us see him.’
She was right, Mandy thought. Once she’d learned how Pat and Chloe had lied to her about Richard’s death, she wanted to get herself and her baby as far away from them as possible.
‘Of course I would,’ she lied. ‘You’re his grandma. Why would I keep him from you?’
‘I don’t think I believe you, darling, but we had to see if it worked …’ Pat’s voice trailed away.
‘What worked?’
Both the bathroom and the hallway fell silent. ‘Pat, what do you mean? To see if what worked?’
‘We didn’t want to replace Richard like you think we did …’
‘Then why did you take my baby? I don’t understand.’
‘Chloe read somewhere that the children of Matched couples can be powerful enough to bring a parent out of a coma … He was our last hope.’
Mandy looked at Lorraine to see if what Pat was saying was true. Lorraine shrugged.
‘But Richard’s not in a coma, he’s in a permanent vegetative state. They’re two very different things.’
‘I know, but don’t you see, we had to try. We took Richard’s son to the nursing home and we sat with them both for hours, but nothing happened. He didn’t move. My boy just didn’t move …’
Mandy thought she heard gentle sobs coming from behind the door.
‘So why didn’t you bring him back to me then?’
‘I don’t know,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t know. We need to rest now, I’m sorry.’
Mandy felt herself growing more and more anxious. ‘Can I have him back now please Pat?’
There was no response
She repeated herself. ‘Pat!’ she said again, raising her voice.
‘I just need to sleep,’ Pat replied quietly, her voice barely audible. ‘My grandson and I, we need to sleep. When Chloe finds out the truth, please tell her I’m sorry.’
‘What’s she talking about?’ Mandy asked Lorraine, who turned to look at another detective. ‘Lorraine!’ yelled Mandy. ‘What’s going on?’
Mandy felt someone pull her backwards by the shoulders and the police officer with the battering ram slammed it against the door handle, breaking the lock. As three officers charged into the bathroom, Mandy rushed in after them to locate her son.
Slumped on the floor against the side of the bath were the motionless bodies of grandmother and grandson, both with closed eyes and skin as white as snow.
Chapter 97
CHRISTOPHER
Amy knelt before Christopher as he sat restrained in a chair inside the home of what should’ve been his final kill. In her tightly clenched palm Amy held the key that could unlock the handcuffs keeping his ankles bound tightly together.
For a moment, the connection they shared was so powerful, it was like Christopher could read Amy’s mind: when Christopher admitted she was responsible for making him a better person, she believed the sincerity of his words and he didn’t doubt that she still loved him despite the evil inside.
‘The only small mercy I can get from this awful, awful nightmare is that it’s not me who triggered this side of you,’ she said, slipping the key in the lock, ‘because when I pieced together the dates of each murder, they started about three weeks before we met.’
Christopher nodded. ‘This … thing … in my head, that makes me … well, it has nothing to do with you. When we first started dating, I did get a buzz from doing it behind your back, not just my girlfriend’s back, but a police officer’s back. But the more I got to know you, the deeper I fell and the less of a thrill it became. Believe me, I could feel myself becoming someone else the longer we were together.’
Amy stopped turning the key and paused. ‘Then why did you keep killing if you didn’t get a thrill from it anymore?’
‘Sorry?’
‘If I made you a better person, why did you need to keep killing?’
‘Because my goal was always to reach thirty people.’
‘So it wasn’t that you felt a compulsion to do it any more, you just made a choice to do it? It was a conscious decision and nothing to do with what you are?’
‘I guess so.’
‘And then, what? You were just going to stop?’
‘Yes.’
‘What did you hope to get out of it? Recognition? Would you have turned yourself in to the police? Or to me?’
‘No. It was enough knowing that nobody would ever have any idea who I was, why I started and why I stopped just as suddenly.’
‘And what if you didn’t reach thirty? What if you’d put our relationship first and quit? Then what would’ve happened?’
‘I don’t know. I did consider it, but I feared I might grow to resent you for coming between me and what I had planned and that I might—’
‘—kill me too?’
Christopher nodded and something in Amy’s eyes shifted. In a moment of clarity, she removed the key from the still locked handcuffs and rose to her feet. ‘There are so many things I want to ask you, but I don’t know where to begin and I’m afraid of what I’ll hear.’
‘Try me.’
‘Were you born this way?’
