Killing Evil: a chilling psychological thriller

by John Nicholl

  Maybe my good mood was because spring was on its merry way. New life was appearing. The daffodil’s green shoots were already poking through the dark soil with their closed yellow heads, and I felt sure that my panther boy now appreciated his new underground home. How could he not? The scene was so stunning – the Welsh countryside at its glorious best.

  I was about to head back into my cottage to wake Maisie from her enforced slumber when the morning went from good to better. I heard the delivery van before seeing it. There it was coming down my track, approaching my home. I met the driver in my yard and smiled with genuine pleasure as he handed me my carefully packaged picture frame through the open window of his vehicle.

  ‘There you go, love, that one’s for you. It’s nice to see the sun shining.’

  I could hardly contain my excitement as I held the parcel in both hands. I looked up at the sky with my eyes narrowed. The sun was low but still bright, coming over the trees. He was right; it was nice to see it shining in a pale-blue sky almost free of clouds.

  ‘Yes, it is, it’s a wonderful day.’

  ‘I’ll see you again, love.’

  I felt myself tense. What the hell did he mean by that? I turned away, rushing towards my front door as the potential threat prepared to drive away. I concluded I was well rid of him. If he came again, I wouldn’t talk to him at all. Maybe a drink to settle my nerves. Yes, why not? I couldn’t let the bastard lower my mood.

  It took me almost half an hour to frame that awesome panther tattoo to my eventual satisfaction. I had to trim the skin ever so slightly at the edges. But it was very well worth the effort. It looked genuinely fantastic by the time I’d finished. I retrieved my hammer from the slaughterhouse floor, fetched a suitable masonry nail from my garden shed, and hung my new picture on the lounge wall next to my degree certificate. I stood back to admire it with pride for a full minute. It was such an excellent way to remember such a lovely boy. I’m sure he’d appreciate it, were he alive to see it, almost as much as I did. I wish I could show it to you. My words don’t do it justice. He was even more beautiful in death than he had been in life. My new panther tattoo looked even better in the frame than it had on him.

  A bucket of cold water and Maisie was awake a few minutes later. Not sharp in the sense I was. She was still groggy and somewhat confused when I tried to speak to her.

  I considered releasing her handcuffs, to take her to my lounge, to show her my picture. But in the end, I decided it made more sense to bring it to her. I really thought she’d be interested, that she’d appreciate my generous gesture, that she’d be glad that I’d involved her at all. It’s not like I had to. It was another moment of kindness on my part. I was reaching out to her out of the goodness of my heart.

  But that’s when my day took a darker turn. Maisie lost control of her bowel as I held the picture up in front of her. And then she vomited. Right there and then all over herself. Can you believe that? After everything I’d done for her. The woman is a total and utter disgrace.

  Another two buckets of cold water and she was reasonably clean again. And she uttered a word or two. I couldn’t make sense of what she was saying, but she was trying to speak. I was glad of that, communication matters. I told her I’d probably kill her sometime that afternoon.

  I ate an early lunch after rehanging my picture, with less gusto than I had breakfast. My mood was lower by then, no doubt due to Maisie’s unfortunate lack of enthusiasm and that unpleasant delivery driver who’d upset me in the way men so often do. But I concluded that those unpleasantries would give me the motivation to get the job done. I like to be flexible, as I’ve said before. Maisie had to die. I was no longer enjoying her company. And she was very obviously guilty. There was no doubt on that score. So, why delay her execution?

  I threw my dirty plate and cutlery into the sink before heading towards my slaughterhouse, striding out with a new determination to end Maisie’s life and the threat she posed. But as I entered the hall, I dropped quickly to my knees as the silhouette of a woman I felt sure I recognised approached my front door. I hurried over the tiles on all fours as she began knocking. And then I crawled into my lounge to hide behind the sofa, hoping she’d go away.

  But Detective Inspector Laura Kesey wasn’t a woman who gave up easily. She pushed open my half-closed lounge window, placing her head through the resulting gap.

  ‘Hello, Alice, it’s DI Kesey, Laura Kesey, it’s the police. I’d like a word with you.’

  My father made an inevitable appearance at that precise moment, no surprises there. He could not wait to mock me. No doubt he’d been anticipating this moment since the day of my first execution. The bastard must have been creaming his pants.

  It’s the police, Alice, and they’ve come for you. You’ll be taken away. Oh, dear, how very sad, it’s all downhill from here.

  I hissed my reply for fear that the piggy officer may overhear. ‘Get back to hell!’

  I chose to ignore my father’s resulting sneer. I’ve got used to such things. But what to do? What the hell to do? I had to think quickly. The slaughterhouse door was closed. Maisie was silent. Maybe I should let the detective in. Perhaps I could bluff it out.

  As she tapped the window insistently, I knew I had to face her. It could work out okay, couldn’t it? The little Midlands piggy was alone. Surely that was a good sign, wasn’t it? She could be visiting for any number of reasons. Officers hunted in packs where major investigations were concerned. I hurriedly crawled back toward the hall just after Kesey turned away.

  A few seconds later, I opened the front door, calling out to her. ‘Hi, Laura, I thought it was you. I was upstairs in the bathroom. Sorry to keep you waiting. What can I do for you?’

  The professional snooper stared back at me with her small, round eyes. ‘Can I come in for a quick chat?’

  How to play it? ‘I was about to go out.’

  She took a step towards me. ‘I won’t keep you long. But we do need to talk. We can do it here or inside. It’s up to you.’

  That concerned me. If I’d been holding a knife, I’d probably have stabbed her right there and then. To get it over with. ‘I’ll put the kettle on if you fancy a coffee.’

  ‘Not for me, thanks. I haven’t long had one.’

  Shit! For fuck’s sake! That ruled out the sleeping draught. My head pounded as I led her into my lounge. Fortunately, the window was open. There was still a slight odour, but it wasn’t overpowering.

  ‘Take a seat, Laura. Do you need another statement? I’m sure I’ve already told you all I know. But I’m always ready to help if I can.’

  ‘I’m looking for Maisie. She didn’t arrive home yesterday evening. The last time her partner spoke to her, she said she was coming here.’

  My mind was racing, the cogs turning faster and faster. What the hell to say? What the fuck to do? Shut up, Father. Shut the fuck up! I need to concentrate. ‘That’s strange; what sort of time would she have been here?’

  ‘It would have been sometime yesterday morning. I can’t be more specific than that.’

  ‘Ah, okay, that makes sense. I went out for a long drive straight after breakfast. I ended up on the Beacons. I didn’t get back until gone three.’

  And I really thought that was it as the piggy detective rose to her feet preparing to leave. It seemed I’d deceived her as I had that young female uniformed officer so very long ago. But then Kesey suddenly looked up at the newly framed picture hanging on my wall above the fireplace, as if she was registering it for the very first time. Her face turned ashen as she stopped and stared, and I knew in that instant that my life had changed forever. She knew what it was. She knew where it was from. It was fight or flight, but I had nowhere to run. I edged towards the door to the hall, fully intending to grasp a suitable weapon from my slaughterhouse floor. But then she spoke in that Midlands drone of hers, and for some reason, I turned to listen. I still can’t understand why, but I did.

  She pointed at my black panther with a fixed
expression that said a thousand words. ‘What’s that?’

  I moved a little closer to the door, but I didn’t reply. There was nothing I could have said to change anything for the better. I knew from her face that she wouldn’t understand. And then I ran, suddenly, like a sprinter off the blocks, shoving my slaughterhouse door open with my leading shoulder as she came after me. I reached down, picking up my hammer, the only weapon within my easy reach as the piggy detective entered the room. Kesey looked at me, then at Maisie handcuffed to that black Victorian radiator, and then at me again, her eyes wide as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. She fumbled for her phone, clutching it in her right hand while holding her left out as if stopping traffic.

  ‘Stay where you are, Alice. Drop the hammer. It’s over. You’re in enough trouble without making things even worse for yourself.’

  I lunged at the piggy detective as she went to dial, covering the ground between us in two rapid strides, knocking her smartphone to the floor before stamping down on it, cracking the glass. She let out a scream as she jumped in the air, kicking out at me karate style, hitting my hammer arm with a powerful blow just above my elbow. The strike sent me staggering sideways, but I somehow held onto my weapon.

  What I’ve since learnt but didn’t know then is that Kesey has a black belt. She’s represented the UK in international competition. It wouldn’t have made a difference to my actions. I had no choice but to fight. But I’ve no doubt it tilted the odds in her favour. If I’d had a gun, I’d have blown her fucking head off.

  My arm ached as I raised the hammer high above my head, attempting to strike her. But she moved with speed and grace, throwing out three fast jabs and landing another kick, this time to my left thigh, a few inches above my knee. I knew then that I wasn’t fighting any ordinary opponent. None of my previous visitors had a similar level of combat skills, not even Simpson, who was the best of the rest.

  As Kesey picked up her phone, I could see she was out of breath. That gave me hope. But as she moved away from me, I wasn’t nearly quick enough to stop her dialling. I did manage to land a glancing blow to her shoulder, making her wince, but the bitch had already summoned help. I hated her for that. I wanted to tear her apart. To make her suffer as she’d never suffered before. We should have been on the same side. She was tormenting the wrong person. Why didn’t she realise that? It seems so obvious to me.

  Father began laughing somewhere behind me as I failed to land a wild blow to her skull. She then swept me; I think that’s the technical term, dropping to the floor and kicking hard in one rapid movement, taking out both my legs from under me. I was in mid-air for a fraction of a second before landing heavily on my coccyx. A stab of pain exploded up my spine as the bitch spun me onto my front before forcing my hammer arm high up my back until I dropped my weapon.

  We were both panting hard as she sat astride me, still pinning my arm with the one hand while gripping the hair at the back of my head with the other. She jerked my head back and held it there as she told me I was being arrested on suspicion of murder. I struggled but without any success. She was more skilled than me and very probably stronger. I hadn’t felt so helpless since being a child. It was as if I was being abused all over again.

  I thought that Kesey might have broken my arm at one point. I let out a yell of pain and a string of expletives. I tried to reason with her, but she didn’t want to hear it. She said no more. She just held me there until we finally heard sirens about fifteen minutes later.

  I listened to the crashing of the front door being forced open as Kesey called out to her arriving colleagues. Within seconds I was being dragged towards a police car by two burly male uniformed officers who threw me into the back seat with such force that I bounced off the opposite door. An ambulance sped down my track and into the yard as one of the two officers prepared to drive off to the police station. As I looked back, I saw Kesey meeting the paramedics at my broken door, hurriedly ushering them into the cottage as if Maisie’s life was more important than mine. Now I knew my quest was over. I’d have to face a confused and misunderstanding world who saw my actions as crimes for some bizarre reason I still can’t understand.

  I swore loudly and crudely as I thought of my rose garden, my thwarted plans, and then of my panther tattoo. I’d lost so very much in such a short time. And there were so many more monster men out there in the world whom I should have trapped and destroyed. I began to cry, experiencing a crushing sense of failure.

  I told you so, Alice, I told you.

  ‘Shut up, Father, shut the fuck up!’

  It seemed he might have been right all along.

  37

  The world had gone mad. I was forced to see a doctor in my police cell the morning after my arrest. I needed assessing, apparently. How crazy is that? A man claiming to be the principal police surgeon for the county asked me all sorts of ridiculous questions. He even asked if I heard voices just because I spoke to my father.

  And I really think the fool doubted my competence. Because I clearly heard him tell Kesey that I’d need an appropriate adult to sit in on my interview as well as a solicitor. That annoyed me more than I can say. I yelled a stream of angry abuse at the two of them as they stood talking outside my cell door. But it seemed neither Kesey nor the doctor wanted to listen to a single word I said. It was as if I was a non-person, worthless, of no importance at all. They just walked off without further acknowledging my complaints – bad manners at their very worst. The legal system is a total disgrace. No wonder there’s so many miscarriages of justice. I now don’t trust the police at all.

  I was formally interviewed about an hour later. There was me, DI Kesey, that same DS Lewis who’d sat alongside her in the press conference, a middle-aged female social worker who claimed to be there to support, advise and assist me, a young duty solicitor in a crumpled grey business suit that looked older than he did, and finally my father. Everyone was seated in the small, claustrophobic room, except for my father, who chose to hover in the background, coming in and out of focus as he chose. And the strange thing was that no one else seemed to see or hear him but me. I couldn’t make sense of that. Although, it may have been a professional conspiracy to unnerve me. To make me doubt my sanity.

  Kesey and Lewis sat across the interview room table from me and my allocated supporters, team Alice against team police. Both the piggy officers stared into my face for what felt like an age before Kesey finally spoke, taking the lead as befitted her rank. I was just glad the silence had ended. Silence makes me overthink. And that can be a problem.

  ‘Switch on the tape, please, Ray. It’s time we made a start.’

  ‘Will do, ma’am.’

  Why so formal? I think they were playing games. I grinned as Kesey focused on me again. It was an interesting process. And Father seemed just as fascinated as I was. In different circumstances, he may have faced such an interview. We were both wondering what on earth the piggy detective was going to say next.

  ‘I want to remind you that you’re still subject to caution, Miss Granger. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something that you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand?’

  I glanced toward my idiot lawyer, holding his gaze for a second or two before suddenly looking away. ‘This whole process is a complete farce. Why the hell would I go to court? You should be applauding me. I’ve done nothing but good.’

  Kesey rested her elbows on the tabletop, leaning towards me. I could feel her breath on my face. ‘You’ve been arrested on suspicion of murder, Alice. Scenes of crimes officers are already examining every inch of your cottage and garden. Human remains have already been found. This is your opportunity to tell us your side of the story in your own words. I need you to confirm that you understand the caution before we continue the interview.’

  I nodded once, but it seems that wasn’t nearly good enough for the stuck-up bitch.


  ‘Confirm it for the tape, please, Alice. I need to hear you say it.’

  Her implied lack of respect irritated the crap out of me. I could quite easily have slapped her and slapped her hard. It would have felt so delicious. ‘I work for the probation department. Of course I understand. I don’t know why you even feel the need to ask. Show some respect. I wish I’d caved your head in when I had the chance.’

  My inept solicitor started chattering in my ear at that point as if I didn’t have enough to deal with. I told him to shut his stupid mouth. There was no point in the idiot being there at all. The appropriate adult stuck her nose in too. She said I should listen to my lawyer. That he was there to help me. I told her to fuck off. I yelled it in her face. What did she know? They were two more big-mouthed twats dragging me down. As if my father wasn’t enough of a burden to deal with. I jumped up, shaking a fist at that black-clad purveyor of gloom as he hovered behind the two officers making faces.

  Kesey took my arm, sitting me back down. ‘Did you hear what I said, Alice? Human remains have been found both inside and outside your property. What have you got to say about that?’

  I sighed dramatically, starting to get bored. And I needed a drink. I so needed a drink. But that was never going to happen. I pictured Kesey’s decapitated head impaled on a spike and felt a little better. ‘What’s the big deal? Can’t we get this shit over with?’

  ‘We have evidence to suggest that you’ve killed several victims at your home address. What have you got to say in response?’

  That both amused and angered me. She already knew exactly what I’d done. Why waste my time? And calling them victims, outrageous! My idiot lawyer tried to interrupt again, but I put him in his place. Maybe if I’d had the chance, I’d have killed him too. ‘There are five bodies in my garden – four monsters and a young man who I became rather fond of before the end. You’ll find them all under the rose bushes if you haven’t already. And then, of course, there’s the head the farmer found. The rest of the monster’s body is somewhere in the river along with another.