The One Who Got Away

by L. A. Detwiler

  And I’m getting impatient.

  But dammit, I’m not a fool. I’m better than that bloody moron, John Haigh, who everyone lauds. When I started this game, I set out with one thing in mind – I would beat that imbecilic man. I’d do one better than the Acid Bath Murderer who had gotten caught because he was just plain sloppy. No, I’m better than him.

  The final one, though, has almost ruined it. She’s almost made me lose my cool. I’m getting ahead of himself.

  I’d decided a morning watch of Caroline would be okay. No one would suspect anything. I was getting a head start on my work. I could explain it away, of course. So I’d waited. I’d watched, the rain pounding down around me, the pavement pooling with water. The droplets pelted against my bare skin.

  It had been a mistake. Too bold. Dammit, I’d been too bold when I grabbed her. I could’ve been caught. It was a fucking miracle I got away with it.

  And then there had been the problem of what to do with the body in daylight. Through the murky rain, the blood from her head spattered about. Anyone could have found me. I debated whether or not I should leave the body right where I killed her. It didn’t feel right. I hadn’t marked her yet. And I wanted it to be a surprise. A challenge. What to do? What to do?

  The Moores. They were on holiday. They wouldn’t be back for at least a day or two. I regained confidence; I realised I could handle it.

  I’d dragged her body the short way down Meadlowlands Road’s alleyway, my eyes darting about for the first refuge from sight. The shed. The tiny shed out back.

  In she went, and, with the door shut, I held her cold, lifeless body. I’d made my mark. I savoured it, knowing it was safe in there.

  And then I’d left, slipping into the rainy day unnoticed, passing a few stragglers on my way back to my flat but no one gave me a second look. I am invisible in life, but that was something I was thankful for that morning.

  Sometimes it’s the invisible you should be watching.

  Looking in the mirror now, I glance at the scratch on my cheek, beautiful Caroline’s last mark in the world. It was too close. I could’ve been caught. I need to be more careful.

  But it’s okay. I’d won, in the end. Maybe it was by divine providence, or maybe it was by something unknown. Maybe this is simply the path I’m meant to take.

  Regardless, I must be more careful. It needs to all work out in the end. If I don’t finish the final one, it won’t matter. None of it will matter.

  I tuck away the unopened letter addressed to Caroline, slide the newspaper article on top, and close the box. My hand runs over the top, imagining what it will feel like to finally add Adeline’s to the collection.

  She is the one I’m waiting for, after all. She is the one.

  Chapter 23

  West Green, Crawley, West Sussex

  19 July 1959

  I meander down the aisle, Mum talking to Mrs Peabody about the most recent issue of their favourite catalogue and gossiping about the new family in town. I head over to the produce, eyeing up some of the apples and hoping I can convince Mum to bake an apple pie, my favourite.

  ‘Addy, don’t go too far,’ she yells, pausing her conversation. I roll my eyes, feeling like an infant instead of a grown woman. I gather up a bag of apples and take them to the basket Mum holds.

  ‘Your mother’s right, you know. With all this craziness happening, you really should stay close. You can’t be too careful these days,’ Mrs Peabody adds. I smile politely, adding the apples to the shopping basket.

  Mum and I finish the shopping, Mrs Peabody shadowing us the whole way, laughing too loudly at her own jokes. We see a few other locals in the supermarket, mostly housewives out for a stroll to plan dinner. Almost everyone seems to be using the buddy system, every woman in town in a fear frenzy at the prospect of the killer still being loose.

  I’m listening to Mum and Mrs Peabody yammer on about some new recipe as we’re standing in the queue to check out when a voice from behind startles me.

  ‘Addy, is that you?’

  I turn to see the familiar eyes that send a shiver through me.

  ‘Oliver,’ I murmur.

  ‘Oh, Oliver, what a lovely surprise. I haven’t seen much of you lately, which is truly a shame. We do miss seeing you about, don’t we, Adeline?’ My mother inserts herself into the conversation, obliviously adding to the tension. I don’t say a word, staring at him as his eyes travel over my body.

  ‘I miss you as well, Mrs Walker. I do think I’ll have to come around more often, if you’ll have me.’

  Mother smiles. ‘Why we’d love to, wouldn’t we?’ She nudges me, but I don’t answer.

  ‘Shouldn’t you be at work today?’ I ask, confused at his presence here. I never expected to see him at the supermarket at this time. This is when he’s at work, far away. Too far away to come here and rattle me. This is my safe time.

  ‘I have the day off today. Isn’t that grand? Listen, I’d love to take a walk with you, catch up, if you’ll be so kind to accompany me.’

  ‘No, I’m with Mum,’ I reply swiftly.

  ‘Adeline, don’t be ridiculous. Mrs Peabody will walk with me,’ she replies. Mrs Peabody, on cue, waves from the front of the market.

  I want to scream, to rage, to tell Oliver to get the hell away from me. I don’t want to be left alone with him. Mum is worried about me walking alone, about the dangers of town. Yet, here she is, unknowingly feeding me to the lion.

  ‘See, Adeline. It’ll be just lovely. We can catch up, have a friendly chat.’ His voice drips with fake sweetness and very real condescension. My mother is too enthralled by his status and his money to notice.

  ‘What a gentleman. And I know he’ll keep you safe from all this nonsense, won’t you, Oliver?’ Mum asks as she unloads her basket.

  ‘Of course, Mrs Walker. You know I will.’

  I keep my eyes averted, telling myself to stay calm. It’s broad daylight, and we’ll be out in public. There’s no way Oliver can pull anything.

  Then again, I know what he’s capable of. I tremor at the thought. I wish Charles were here to protect me instead of working miles away. I wish I’d never given Oliver a second glance when he first started talking to me. I wish so many things, but it’s no use. I’m stuck in this purgatory now, and Oliver is making sure I stay there.

  After we make it through the till and Mum pays for the items, I find myself squeezing my left arm with my right hand, trying to control the rising fears in me. I rack my brain for a way to escape Oliver, for an excuse to get away. I know it’s pointless, however. He’s persistent. He always finds a way to win – and if he doesn’t, I know I’ll just pay later.

  Mum waves goodbye to us as she strolls home, and Oliver offers me his arm. I squeeze my eyes shut, sighing, as he leads me towards the other route home, away from Mum.

  Once we’re away from the centre of town, on a quieter street, I turn to Oliver. ‘What’s this about, Oliver? What do you want? You know I’m with someone else. Can’t you just accept that? Can’t we just agree to go our own ways?’

  He laughs. ‘Addy, Addy. You think it’s so simple, huh? You think you can just do whatever you want and there will be no consequences? You know how this works, don’t you? I say when you can leave.’ His hand wraps around my waist, pulling me in. I shudder at the feel of his touch. How did I once love him? How did my heart once ache for him? I can’t even imagine those days anymore. Oliver’s eyes darken as he stops us on the pavement, the sun beating down on us. In his eyes, I see a glimpse of that night months ago. The night that told me I wasn’t safe anymore, not with Oliver on the loose. I know what he’s capable of, and now, alone with him, I wonder if I’ll feel his true wrath.

  ‘Oliver, stop,’ I order, fighting back tears.

  We walk on, though, Oliver’s hand squeezing my waist as he leads me down a desolate pavement. I can feel his arm trembling with what I presume to be rage. Having seen his temper before, felt his wrath, I shake, knowing what he could do to me.
We march on to the end of the street. I glance to my left, chilling as we approach the front of Smith Creek Manor, a foreboding sight of a nursing home. I typically don’t pass this building, avoiding this street at all costs. There’s something unsettling about the dilapidated building with its crumbling pillars and dirty windows.

  But I’m drawn away from the sight as Oliver’s fingers dig into my flesh. I squeal out, my attention back on the danger right in front of me.

  ‘Does that new bloke of yours know what a slag you are? Does he know what a sinner you are? Because you are, Addy. You’re a sinner. You know that, right? You’re going to hell for what you’ve done.’ His words are barked through gritted teeth. He accents certain words, making me jump with the harshness of them.

  I clutch at my chest, my palms sweaty. My heart races faster and faster. My free hand grapples with my chest, but he yanks me forward. I look around, tears now washing over my eyes. I pray to run into someone, anyone, to free me from him. But who is there to free me from Oliver Parsons? Everyone in town knows him. He’s the charmer, the heartthrob, the son of the most pious, wealthy family in West Green. No one could ever believe the things he’s done. Then again, no one would ever suspect the things I’ve done either. We all have our secrets.

  He pulls me to the alley behind Smith Creek. It’s empty save for us. He’s centimetres from my face, and I can feel his ragged breaths on my bare flesh. I gasp for air, tears falling freely now. What have I done? What did I see in him? And most of all, what will he do to me now?

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I squeak. And I am. I’m sorry for what Oliver and I once were. I’m sorry for what we became together. I’m sorry for the decision I had to make. The one I’d do anything to forget.

  ‘Do you think apologies nullify what you did? Do you know what you did? You destroyed my plan for my life. I had it mapped out. I’d set the path for us, you know? But you destroyed everything. If people in this town knew what you’ve done, do you realise what they’d do to you? What your parents would do to you?’

  ‘Oliver, please. I didn’t destroy anything. You’re okay. Your life is just fine,’ I timidly offer. And it’s true. Oliver’s still the town’s most eligible bachelor. He’s from money, and his future’s all perfectly set ahead of him. But it’s not good enough for him. It’ll never be good enough for him because it didn’t go the way he wanted. He didn’t get to keep control of the reins, no matter how hard he tried. I took that power from him, stripped him of the decision making. And that’s what this is about.

  I look up into his eyes, the stare that once made me swoon now making me cower.

  ‘Really? You didn’t destroy anything? You know what you did, Adeline. You had no right. That was my future you tainted, you annihilated. My future. How dare you think you can just make those decisions. You had it all with me. Didn’t you see that you had it all? I gave you nothing but love and security, and that was how you thanked me?’

  ‘Please. I’m sorry,’ I whisper.

  ‘Sorry you got caught. What, you think I don’t have my ways? You don’t think I have a way of keeping an eye on you at all times? I knew you couldn’t be trusted, you slag. I made sure I kept an eye on you. I knew I had to. I still keep an eye on you.’ He squeezes my wrist now, and I gasp as the bones flex under his grasp.

  Standing here with him, a part of me remembers why I made that choice. This. Right here. The Oliver few know. The side of him that reared its ugly head one too many times.

  It doesn’t make it easy, I know that. I know I’ll have to live with the pain of it forever. But as I stare into the flaming eyes of the bewildered being before me, I know that at the time, I did what I felt I had to do. I also know that Oliver doesn’t see it that way. What is he going to do about it? How far will he go to make me pay, and for how long? And above all, is he the one they’re looking for? Is he the one who killed those other women? They’re questions I hope I don’t find out the answers to anytime soon.

  ‘Tell me, what would Charles think if he knew the whole truth? Do you think he’d still want you? Do you think he’d still find you worthy?’

  ‘Please don’t,’ I mutter, hating that I’m begging but having no choice. Because he’s just articulated the fear that’s been tainting the perfect love story growing between me and Charles. It’s the anvil waiting to crash into us, waiting to obliterate his image of me. I love Charles. I don’t want to lose him.

  ‘Please don’t,’ I repeat. He squeezes harder and harder, smiling as I wince in pain.

  And then, just like that, he flings my wrist away, letting me go as footsteps fall behind us.

  ‘What the hell are you doing?’ a strong voice says as a hand grabs Oliver’s arm and yanks him away. I’m stunned, turning to see who could’ve possibly crept up on us.

  ‘Fuck you,’ Oliver shouts, arms flailing as he backs away from his assailant.

  I turn to see the familiar face of the postman. He seethes and rages, his eyes burning as he studies Oliver. I could cry. I could hug him. What were the chances he’d be here to save me? A man I see so many times a week yet think so little of. He can’t be much older than me, the youth showing itself in the delicate skin of his face, in his bright eyes. Still, his bulky, foreboding frame heaves as he towers over Oliver. He may only be a few years older, but his stature makes him seem much more mature. I almost smile at the ridiculous sight of Oliver, who is puffing out his chest but who clearly stands no match to the bulky man.

  ‘I’ll walk Adeline home.’

  ‘Like hell you will. Come on, Addy. Let’s get away from this psycho. What, were you following us?’

  At that, the postman’s arm jolts up, his fingers grabbing the collar of Oliver’s shirt. Oliver pales as the postman pulls him in, and for a moment, I wonder what will happen next. I watch in silent fascination as Oliver is put in his place.

  ‘Don’t ever call me that. Do you hear? If you want to fucking see psycho, schoolboy, I’ll show it to you.’ His fingers squeeze, and Oliver chokes. My stomach plummets.

  And then, as if he realises how surprising his actions must be, as if he knows he’s proved his point, the postman lets go of Oliver, flinging him aside like a broken plaything.

  ‘Adeline, do you want me to walk you home?’ the postman asks, his voice calming as his eyes study me. Whereas his eyes were burning with something menacing a moment ago, they are now softer, almost intoxicated. I squirm under his glance.

  ‘I’ll be okay,’ I assure, looking to the ground, uncomfortable holding his eyes with mine.

  ‘I’ll be watching you,’ the postman spits at Oliver before walking in the other direction, the way we came from. Oliver mutters under his breath, readjusting his collar and trying to shake off the shame and surprise. He yanks me forward, but as I turn to look back, the postman stands in the middle of the pavement, staring at us, hands in his pockets. His jaw is clenched as his eyes glimmer. When we’re out of earshot of my saviour, Oliver turns to me, pinching my arm.

  ‘Don’t think you’ll get away with this. Don’t think you can make damning choices and then run off to a happy life. You’ll pay, Addy. One way or another, you’ll pay. I’m just waiting for the right moment, that’s all. I want to relish this,’ he continues, the postman’s threats having done nothing to discourage Oliver’s terrorisations.

  I avert my eyes to the ground, staring at his perfectly polished shoes. My palms sweat and tears fall now, but I don’t dare look up. I’m too afraid to see what his eyes read, what his sneer says. I’m petrified of being here, alone, at his mercy.

  The sting of his hand against my face stuns me. I reach up, trembling, to feel the flesh that he’s slapped.

  ‘Let’s go, you bitch,’ he barks, grabbing my wrist and yanking me forward. I fall into him, and he places my hand on his arm. ‘Wouldn’t want to keep your mother waiting. Wouldn’t want her to worry that something happened to you, would we? After all, I promised to keep you safe. I’m a man of my word, aren’t I, Addy?’

  My ha
nd shakes on his arm, his other hand squeezing my wrist. I cry out, shielding my teary eyes as we walk forward. At some point he reaches up, wiping away my tears. I cower at his touch.

  ‘There, there, Addy. Wouldn’t want people thinking you’re upset. That could be dangerous, you know?’

  The sun beats down on us and I will my feet to march onward, towards home. The sooner I’m home, the sooner I’m away from him, free from his grasp. At least for the time being. Because today has proved one thing – he still holds all the cards. My life is his to ruin.

  Lost in these melancholic thoughts, we traipse towards my house. Oliver whistles as we near the more populated part of town, his jolly tune slicing through my bones. To think my mother is rooting for me to get back with Oliver. She doesn’t know who he is. But neither did I. Neither does anyone, really. But to reveal his true self would be to reveal my secret. Mum would never forgive me, and Dad probably wouldn’t either. Not after all they’ve been through. I don’t think I can bear that pain, either.

  We trudge on, down the pathway to my house and down the pathway Oliver has demanded of me. How long can I keep these lies going? How long can I shield Charles from the truth? And how long will I be stuck in limbo between the man I want and the man who won’t free me? It’s such a mess. I’ve made a true disaster of everything, just like Mum always warned I would.

  We veer right, the quiet rows of houses sitting in the July sun. It’s a quiet street, Meadlowlands Road, especially this time of day. I’ve always thought the houses here were quaint and lovely with their perfectly aligned window boxes of flowers.

  But today, there’s a different sight. A huge gathering of cars, of people are in front of the Moores’ home. Patrick is a retired schoolteacher, and his wife volunteered as a nurse during the war. They’re a sweet couple, and my heart sinks. I rush towards the chaos, wondering what could have possibly happened now. All thoughts of my own problems fade as we approach the crowd of frightened neighbours.