“You must’ve cared about them?”
He had no desire to end the lives of his parents. They brought him into the world, looked after him, spoiled him, and unbeknownst to them, taught him to use his mask to manipulate.
“I didn’t want them to know about the monster, and they never found out.”
“If they were here now, how do you think they would’ve felt?”
“They would’ve tried to look for a reason, blamed it on something else, just how you’re doing.”
“You must care about something—someone.”
“The only person I care about is…”
Romeo caught himself just in time.
“Is?”
“Myself.”
Holly started to pack her things. “It’s obvious today’s not a good day for you.”
“This is the last time you’re gonna see me.”
Her lips popped open. “What?”
“I’m done with the visits.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“You’ve got what you need to write your feature article.”
“But you need me.”
Romeo scrunched up his face. “I don’t.”
“You said so yourself. I help with the boredom.”
“You did at first, but now you just annoy me.”
“Annoy you? See, I’m helping you unlock your emotions. The ones you claim not to have.”
“I have emotions, just not the ones you’re looking for. I don’t regret what I did. That’s your ending.”
“I can keep our visits going.”
“No. You crossed the line when you confronted Chad.” Romeo got to his feet and looked over to Fred. “I want to go back to my cell.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
“Wait … don’t.”
Fred opened the door for him, and he began the march down the corridor. He passed Justin cracking his knuckles and gave him a smile. His growl of anger drowned out Holly’s panicked begging spinning in his head.
“Why did you do that?” Paul asked.
Romeo looked over his shoulder at him. “I thought you’d be happy.”
“You’ve upset her, why would that make me happy?”
“You got a soft spot for her, haven’t you?”
“Shut up. All you had to do is sit there and answer her questions.”
“I was answering, she wasn’t listening. The same questions over and over. She’s obsessed.”
“No, she’s not. She’s professional.”
“She’s no more a professional than Justin’s a professional boxer.”
Justin rattled his bars. “Come closer an’ say that.”
“Next time maybe.”
Fred pushed Romeo further up the corridor. “Don’t get him started.”
They waited for the sound of the bolt, then passed through the door to the next corridor.
“She was being thorough,” Paul said adamantly, “giving people like you a voice. A chance to explain your actions.”
“No, she was looking for an answer, the answer she wanted. The answer that just isn’t there. She won’t accept the truth, but you see it, I know you do.”
“You’re a monster, some messed up part of you got pleasure from strangling those people.”
“Exactly. You get it. You get me.”
Fred unlocked Romeo’s cell, and Paul shoved him in the back. He stumbled inside, knocking his knee on the edge of the bed. He grimaced at the pain, but didn’t turn enough for Paul to see his face. The gate clunked behind him, then Fred told him to back up to the bars.
“No,” Paul said. “Leave him in the cuffs.”
“It’s against protocol.”
“I don’t care, he deserves it.”
****
Will huffed dramatically. “Did you not even think about me?”
Romeo rolled his eyes. “No, why would I?”
“You really are heartless.”
“Why are you surprised? I’m heartless, void of all emotion. A shell of a person, and I always have been, don’t act all hard-done by.”
“Holly was hot, you describing what she wore was the highlight of my week.”
“And it was the low point of mine.”
“It’s all about you.”
Romeo frowned. “Well, yeah, actually it is. I don’t owe you anything, and if you’re gonna keep complaining, I won’t give you these letters.”
“That—that would be cruel.”
“Would it? Do I care?”
“Please, Romeo.”
“Say I’m not a heartless asshole.”
“You’re not a heartless asshole.”
“Not sure I should give these to a liar.”
“Wait—what?”
Romeo smirked, poked the letters through the bars, then shoved them across the floor. Will slapped his hand down on them. Then hastily yanked them into his cell.
“What goodies have you got today?”
Romeo didn’t stay at the bars to listen. He went over to the bed and held up the one letter he’d not passed to Will. The prison address had been printed, and the letter posted far away from Berkshire. Romeo smiled, tearing into the envelope.
Another magpie feather. He tacked his new one to the wall, admiring the two black and white feathers. Chad’s message that all was fine between them.
“At 8:30 yesterday morning, a body was taken from James Clerk’s address, believe to be the ex-footballer himself.”
Romeo pulled his gaze from the feather and looked at his TV.
“The ex-Lipton full-back had fallen on hard times in recent years. With his history of depression and drug abuse, it’s being speculated he took his own life.”
Romeo ignored the reporter, and focused on the movement behind her, or more specifically, the police presence. He could see a familiar mop of brown hair. Chad.
Chad wouldn’t have been called to a case involving suicide.
He was trying to catch the copycat, which meant James Clerk was his fourth victim. Not two months apart, but one month. The copycat was eager. Too eager.
Images of James Clerk appeared on screen, along with a report about his career and where it all went wrong. He was a big guy, thick neck—the killer must’ve been strong. James didn’t look like the kind of guy that would go down easy.
“Pictures of James had been controversially printed in the Canster Times eight months ago. He appeared to be snorting cocaine with a rolled up fifty-pound note. He apologized profusely and swore he’d check himself into rehab, but discharged himself after only four days on the program. If this, indeed, turns out to be suicide, many are pointing the finger at the newspaper for shaming him. Those at the Canster Times have blood on their hands.”
James Clerk, ex-footballer, lived in a mansion. Romeo could see some of the cameras on the property behind the reporter. There was no way the killer had got in and out without being seen. Idiot.
“We’ll update you as soon as this tragic story unfolds.”
The murder had taken place the day before, but the police hadn’t corrected the news report, they were letting it run as if it was suicide, and not murder.
“Hey, Will…”
“What is it, I’m busy.”
“Take your hand out of your boxers and talk to me.”
Will huffed, then knocked the bars of his cell. Romeo sat down by his, gaze fixed on the TV.
“Can you think of any reported deaths last month?”
“What kind of question is that?”
“I mean, any that were unusual on the news.”
“People die all the time.”
“Try and remember.”
“There was some stabbing by the Oasis.”
“No, I don’t mean nightclub violence.”
“Those two gangs came to blows in Jefferson’s park.”
“No—like murder, murder.”
“Can’t think of any…”
Romeo sighed.
“But there was that accidental death though �
� poor guy.”
Romeo rubbed his temples. He couldn’t remember an accidental death, but then again, he wouldn’t have taken notice.
“Remind me.”
“He’d been dead days, no neighbors or anything, it was the postman that noticed he wasn’t picking up the mail from his box and called the police. They broke in and found him.”
“How did he die?”
“He drilled a hole in the wall, hit a wire, and the fuse needed replacing. He electrocuted himself in his bedroom. Then they went on about getting everyone to check their fuses. You know I did it once, knocked the electricity out in my house, didn’t die though.”
“I think there’s two police officers and their families that wished you had.”
“They had it coming to them, always stopping me for speeding, wasting my time. It was harassment.”
Romeo got up from the bars. He didn’t want to listen to Will’s rant about the day he stabbed two police officers and how it was justified. He’d already heard the story at least fifty times.
“You don’t remember his name by any chance.”
“Yeah, Sergeant Cli—”
“No, I meant the guy that electrocuted himself.”
“Nope, sorry.”
“Never mind, can’t all be perfect like me.”
“Can I go back to reading your mail now?”
Romeo lifted his eyebrow. “Yeah, knock—no, bash yourself out…”
Chapter Eight
It was Romeo’s favorite time of the week, the only reason to get through each day. He stared at the door that would reveal Chad, and willed it to open, prayed Chad wouldn’t keep him waiting any longer.
When the door finally opened, Romeo’s smile dropped, and he stared at Chad. Then he shifted his eyes to the man beside him, Chad’s DI.
Lucas Grimes.
Bald, slightly wider since the last time Romeo had seen him. That had been when Romeo spied on him through his hospital door, willing him not to die of his heart attack.
There were deep bags under his eyes, but his shirt was tucked in, his tie was straight, he was at least trying to look professional. A month had passed since James Clerk’s death, and Romeo had half expected a visit from the DI. He just wasn’t expecting it to encroach on his time with Chad.
The DI pointed sternly at Paul and Fred.
“Get out.”
Paul floundered. “What?”
He flashed his police badge. “Wait outside the door. This is a private matter.”
Romeo listened as they scurried out of the room, then the door latched behind them.
“How’s the heart?” he asked.
The DI paused, rocked back on his heels, then marched over to his chair with a sneer wrinkling his face. “The heart’s fine, thank you for asking.”
“As nice as it is to see you again, why are you here? This is mine and Chad’s time.”
“Not today.”
Chad wasn’t looking at him, he’d backed away and leaned on the wall. He looked tired, and slumped, chin practically on his collar bone, as he stared at the floor. Romeo looked at his hand at his side, tightening and relaxing in a manic action.
The DI moved into Romeo’s eyeline, stealing his attention from Chad.
“What do you want?”
“To talk.” The DI placed a folder on the table, then unwound the string fastening it. “Your cell is being searched as we speak.”
“Searched? For what?”
The DI retrieved an envelope with the prison’s address printed on the outside. The sorting stamp from a different region of the country.
“A few days ago, we contacted the prison, asked them to keep hold of your mail for the foreseeable future.”
“You’re gonna disappoint Will…”
The DI opened the envelope and pulled free a picture of a magpie feather. “Do you know who this is from?”
Chad looked at Romeo, then quickly resumed his staring contest with the floor. It had been a month since Chad had sent the second feather, and he’d tried a third, but Romeo couldn’t work out the reason for it.
They were fine.
“No.” Romeo said.
“Why would someone send you magpie feathers?”
“I get all sorts in here.”
“I’ll ask you again, do you know who sent this feather?”
“Not a clue.”
The DI grimaced, then slipped the feather back into the envelope.
“Have you got any others?”
Romeo licked his lips. If they were searching his cell, they would find them anyway, center stage next to Chad’s face. “I’ve got two on my wall.”
“Two feathers? Why keep them if they mean nothing? If you don’t know who’s sending them or why?”
Romeo shrugged. “They brighten the place up.”
“Romeo.” The DI growled.
The door beside Chad swung open, and another officer stepped inside. Romeo recognized him, Detective Sergeant Gareth Smith. He glanced at Romeo, then turned to Chad before slapping a plastic bag to his chest with more force than Romeo thought was necessary.
“See.” He said, glaring at Chad.
Chad took the bag from him. Romeo knew they were the printed magpie feathers. Chad’s brow crumpled, and he squeezed his eyes shut.
“We’ll get them analyzed at the lab.” Gareth said.
“Analyzed? For what?”
“Fingerprints. DNA.”
Romeo frowned. “DNA?”
“There’s been three murders.” The DI said. “Each victim strangled in their bedroom. Each victim branded with a number, counting down from five.”
A smile started to grow on Romeo’s face. The killer hadn’t been caught, he’d found a way around the CCTV at James’s house, and then had gone on to get his number three. He was cleverer than Romeo had given him credit for.
“You sick fuck.” Gareth hissed. Then he looked at Chad while pointing at Romeo. “He smiled. Don’t pretend you didn’t see it.”
“I saw.” Chad muttered.
“Then why—why are you so adamant he’s not involved.”
“He’s not,” Chad said, shaking his head. “He can’t be.”
“This countdown killer leaves an identical image of a magpie feather beside the body, and it seems like he sends you one too after each kill.” The DI said.
“The feathers are from the copycat?”
Gareth huffed. “Seems that way doesn’t it.”
Romeo looked up, trying to connect with Chad. “I thought they were…”
“What?” the DI asked.
“I don’t know. Just feathers.”
“That you just happen to keep and pin to your wall.”
Romeo didn’t reply.
“Who have you been talking to other than Chad?”
“Will, the guy in the next cell. Holly Stevenson, the journalist—
“No phone calls, no letters?”
“No.”
Gareth snorted. “Who’ve you been talking to? Who have you convinced into taking over from you?”
“No one.”
“What’s with the magpie feathers?”
“Nothing.”
Chad came forward and stood level with the DI. “Romeo?”
“I swear to you I don’t know who’s sending them.”
“He’s a serial killer,” Gareth said. “Don’t listen to him—this is him. This is him again, but through someone else.”
“Chad, I haven’t spoken to anyone but you, not a word.”
Chad stared at him for a long moment, and Romeo willed him to see the hidden meaning in his words. He hadn’t told anyone about the magpie, that was between them, only them.
“I believe him.”
“Of course you do,” Gareth laughed, “He’s got you so wrapped around his finger you’d believe anything that came out of his god-damn mouth. He’s poisoned your mind.”
“Enough.” The DI said.
“This copycat killer,” Romeo said carefully, “Am I ri
ght to assume he’s got his number three…”
“Yes…”
Romeo turned his head, frowning. “You didn’t catch him on James’s CCTV.”
“How did you know—” The DI stopped abruptly and looked accusingly at Chad. “You’ve been giving him details. Jesus Christ, Cha—
“Of course I haven’t.”
“Then how else would he know James was a victim.”
Romeo forcefully cleared his throat, then snorted. “News crew. Chad in the background. He wouldn’t have been there unless it was murder. I made a point of avoiding CCTV, and I’m wondering why these cameras in prime positions didn’t catch your killer.”
“The cameras weren’t working.” Chad said. “James … was practically living rough inside his mansion after his drug shame. Barely had enough money to buy his dogs food.”
“Why the hell are you telling him?” Gareth asked. “He’s not gonna help us.”
Romeo smiled at Gareth. “Chad knows that. We’re on opposing teams, always have been. The detectives vs the serial killers.”
“It’s not a game.”
“It is. Life is just a game.”
“Where people get hurt.”
“If you’re on the wrong team, you’ll get burned.”
“Back to the station, you two.” The DI announced. “We’re not gonna get anywhere here.”
Chad looked at him. “But—”
“No buts, get out.”
Chad shot a helpless look at Romeo.
“It’s okay, we’ll catch up next week.”
Chad nodded, then followed Gareth out of the door.
“I’ve tried to make him see sense, but still he visits you.”
“He likes me.”
The DI flared his nostrils. Romeo leaned closer, till his head was almost resting on the barrier. “And I like him.”
“You like having control over someone.”
“Who doesn’t?”
“Do you have control over this copycat?”
“Not deliberately, but the very fact they’re a copycat suggests I do.”
“Who have you been speaking to?”
“Mainly myself.”
“Do you know who sent you the feather?”
Romeo thought he did, but he’d been wrong. The copycat had been sending them, but no one knew about the magpie except Chad.
“I don’t know. But I wish them all the luck in the world.”
The DI drew back in his chair. “What?”
Two for Joy Page 8
