The Ultimate Selection: Be Careful Who You Talk To

by S. J. Wardell

  A quiet knock on the door alerted Greg to Brent’s arrival. Greg opened the door, shielding himself behind it, holding a StunMaster 5000 volt stun baton aloft as he did.

  ‘Nice and easy does it,’ Greg assured Brent.

  ‘Hey take it easy. I’m here and I’m alone. Now what’s going on?’ Brent acted very calm and controlled though, in truth, he was petrified. Greg was not expecting this. Brent saw the man in the shiny suit and blurted, ‘You’re that guy they are talking about, The Ultimate!’

  ‘Follow me,’ Greg said, ignoring the question, ‘everyone’s in the bedroom.’

  Valerie was crouching up against the headboard of the bed, trying to hide her nakedness behind a pillow. Conrad was lying on his side; Brent noticed that his hands and feet had been fastened together.

  ‘As you can see, they both seem to have lost their clothes, and there’s no one else here for them to blame. I won’t go in to the compromising position I found them in, though, put it this way, I did offer them the opportunity to finish before the real fun began.’

  ‘This may seem like a stupid question, but what’s going on Val?’ Brent asked his wife.

  ‘You were never supposed to find out like this,’ she replied, pathetically.

  ‘How was I supposed to find out?’ Brent was extremely dignified in his approach.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘You weren’t… it was just a bit of fun,’ Conrad joined the conversation.

  ‘Are you trying to defend my wife? How admirable.’

  ‘No, I’m not, it’s just that you deserve the truth.’

  ‘I want the truth from my wife. I’d advise you to keep quiet,’ Brent’s tone sharpened. ‘OK where do we go from here?’ he said, turning to look at Greg.

  ‘And I was beginning to get all emotional too, Brent. Everything begins with a choice, your next choice will shape the rest of your life: the unfaithful wife, the scorned husband and her lover. It all snowballs doesn’t it? Firstly, what are you going to do now you have discovered that this guy has been fucking the arse off your wife for God knows how long? I’d wager that you’ve not been getting any action, if you know what I mean? So, with that in mind, you should be able to calculate how long this man has been pickling your rhubarb Brent. No man should asunder those whom God hath joined! Any man found infringing another man’s consummate rights should be dealt with swiftly and punished vigorously. Any woman found to have betrayed her husband should be punished as her scorned husband wishes. Who has the right to break another’s heart and soul? I know what I’d do, but then maybe you are more forgiving… more mouse than man.’

  Silence filled the room. Greg went in to the kitchen, returning seconds later holding a bowl of cold water. He threw the water over Conrad completely saturating him and the bedding that surrounded him.

  ‘Everything begins with choice, Brent, make your move,’ Greg spoke softly handing him the taser gun, in the knowledge that his rubber suit kept him safe, should Brent attempt to turn the gun on him.

  ‘Val, get off the bed,’ Brent ordered.

  ‘Please don’t do it,’ Conrad pleaded.

  ‘Val, you have two seconds or you’ll fucking fry with him. Now move!’

  Brent could feel his pulse pounding in his neck. His penis became slightly erect and he felt a glowing feeling in the pit of his stomach. Adrenalin rushed up from the tips of his toes; when it reached his brain he automatically squeezed the trigger, sending two darts flying towards Conrad. Puncturing his flesh, the darts then began to fill Conrad’s body with electricity. Valerie had placed herself in the corner of the room and wrapped the pillow around her head to soften the screams echoing through her eardrums. Conrad was shaking violently, his body convulsing and contorting. Blood started to ooze from his nose and both ears. A burning smell filled the air, the smell of burning flesh. The noises that came from Conrad were of desperate pain and suffering. The complete lack of control over his own body made him feel disconnected, as though his soul had already vacated the premises that it had lived in for so long. He had accepted his demise and that was when he lost control of his bowels. Urine and excrement left his body in rapid propulsion spraying only the immediate area around him. Only Valerie was hit by this propulsion. Conrad’s body began to slow and took on more of a quiver as his violent contortions ceased. His body had given up; he was dead.

  Brent turned to see what Greg was doing but Greg was gone, vanished. In all the excitement and fear he had not noticed Greg’s departure. The Ultimate had slipped away and disappeared into the night. ‘WHAT, what have I done? Oh fuck, oh shit, I can’t believe what I have just done!’ The reality of his actions shocked him. ‘What are we going to do, Val?’

  ‘Am I next?’ she asked, slowly raising her head. ‘Am I?’ Tears streamed down her face, her gaunt look suggested that she had suffered enough. Her sobbing was interrupted by nervous hiccupping, making her speech frantic.

  ‘No, I would never hurt you, the way you have hurt me. I love you, Val.’

  ‘You should call the police,’ Valerie suggested. ‘You’ve just killed a man, our marriage is over.’ She foolishly felt that the danger was over.

  ‘What do you mean? I only killed him because I love you so much. He, The Ultimate, made me do it,’ Brent stuttered, trying to justify his actions in the hope that his wife would change her mind and take his side.

  ‘He never made you do anything Brent. Anyway, he was right, I am only with you for your money and I stopped loving you when I met Conrad. You have taken that away from me. How can I ever forgive you? How could I ever love you again? You’re a murderer now.’

  The silence was broken by the sound of sirens wailing in the background. A neighbour had heard the noise, spotted Greg leaving and decided to call the police.

  ‘Here they come. They’re coming for you Brent; you’re going to prison Brent, out of my life. I’m not greedy, half of everything will do for starters while you’re locked up.’

  Brent felt the adrenalin return, though this time it filled him with uncontrollable rage. Pacing over to his wife, Brent took hold of the lamp that was on the bedside table and swung it in the direction of Valerie’s head. She instinctively raised the pillow in front of her face. The crashing blow rocketed her head backwards, bouncing it off the wall behind. The impact spilt her skull and she felt the warm liquid ooze out and run down the back of her neck, continuing its journey down the crevice of her spine. Blackness filled her world; she knew her life had come to its end.

  ‘Fancy going like this,’ she spoke in to the pillow that shielded her face. Sadly, she was the only person to hear her final sentence. Brent stood up straight, his body shaking as his overdose of adrenalin subsided.

  ‘STEP BACK FROM THE BODY, AND PUT YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!’ a voice commanded. Brent turned, almost in slow motion, to see who it was that had shouted at him. An armed policeman stood shining a torch at Brent’s face, his pistol drawn, safety off. ‘ARMED POLICE, STEP AWAY FROM THE BODY SIR. I WILL ONLY ASK YOU ONE MORE TIME!’ the uniformed officer ordered.

  ‘OK, OK, I’m not going to try to resist,’ Brent replied.

  ‘LAY DOWN ON THE FLOOR, FACE DOWN, PLACING YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR BACK. I MUST WARN YOU THAT WE ARE ARMED AND ARE USING LIVE ROUNDS!’ the officer continued as if reading from a script. Brent did as he was ordered. He was then bundled in to the back of a police van and taken to Kensington High Street Police Station.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  McFarland rang Terry from his car on his way to Terry’s house.

  ‘Mate,’ he began, ‘there’s been another!’

  ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’ Terry replied. ‘Where this time?’

  ‘Lavender Gardens, Kensington.’

  ‘Yeah, I know where that is.’

  ‘I’m just pulling up outside your house now.’

  ‘OK I’m on my way. Two minutes…’

  Terry grabbed his jacket and house keys before closing the front door behind him. He jogged to McFarl
and’s car, trying to save a little more time.

  ‘Tell me what you know,’ he ordered closing the car door.

  ‘They have a man in custody. OK, the police were called to the property by a worried neighbour. The neighbour had heard screaming coming from the next door flat and, after a while, looked out of a window to see if there was anything going on outside. She noticed a black shape, that seemed to have come from the building, quickly disappear into Kensington Gardens. When our boys arrived, there were two dead bodies, one male and the other female, and another male standing over the female’s corpse. All in the bedroom, the dead male was lying on the bed. It seems that the woman was the wife of the only man alive and the dead guy was her lover. He says that our man in the black suit was there.’

  ‘It was obvious that he would strike again. How did the two die?’ Terry was already thinking ahead.

  ‘The guy was electrocuted and the woman had her head smashed in.’

  ‘Murder weapons?’

  ‘A taser gun and a bedside lamp!’

  ‘Where is the prisoner being held?’

  ‘Kensington High Street nick.’

  ‘Name?’

  ‘Brent Hope.’

  ‘Let’s go to the scene first, hey?’

  ‘Good idea, we can talk to him later.’

  Once at the scene of the crime, both detectives started to look for inspiration. Terry started outside the building whilst McFarland went inside. Terry looked over at the park known as Kensington Gardens; he loved the way we named things according to their location.

  ***

  ‘Has a statement been taken from the neighbour?’ McFarland asked one of the other detectives.

  ‘Yes, sir, though it’s basically what we already know. The man in custody is being very helpful,’ the rotund man replied.

  ‘OK, thanks,’ McFarland half-heartedly replied.

  McFarland’s attention was drawn to the amount of water on the mattress, just enough to do the job he thought, a novice would have soaked it. As he leant forward, he took a whiff of that smell they had not been able to place at the first scene. It filled his nostrils.

  ‘What’s that smell?’

  ‘That’s pepper spray, sir,’ the rotund detective replied.

  ‘Can we get a sample of that for analysing?’

  ‘Yes, sir, I’ll get the forensic boys on it.’

  ‘It’s all over this pillow,’ he pointed out, so the detective could pass on the information.

  ***

  Terry had walked all the way across Kensington Gardens. He knew that was where the getaway vehicle had been parked. No CCTV though. There were already officers combing the park looking for clues. Terry knew they would not find anything and decided to have a look inside the building. As he entered the flat, he looked at the door frame and noted that the lock did not seemed to have been forced. He could not understand how The Ultimate had got in. After talking to McFarland, the two detectives decided that it was time to talk to the man in custody – Brent Hope.

  ***

  ‘He’s in interview room four, sir,’ announced the desk sergeant.

  ‘Just through here?’ McFarland asked.

  ‘Yes, sir, on your left,’ the uniformed WPC replied, pressing an electronic button that released the heavy security door.

  As they entered the room, Brent was sitting next to a man in a very expensive suit.

  ‘Hello, I’m Detective Inspector James McFarland, and this is Detective Inspector In Charge Terry Bane of New Scotland Yard,’ he said, with pride.

  ‘Hello Detectives, I’m Mr Dominic Fortroy-Holmes, Mr Hope’s lawyer.’

  ‘We would like to talk to Mr Hope with regards to the two recent murders at 5a Lavender Gardens and what his role was. What actually happened? Are you happy for us to do that?’ McFarland enquired.

  Brent nodded his acceptance.

  ‘Mr Hope, we are going to need your full co-operation if we are to get to the bottom of this,’ Terry interrupted.

  ‘I have nothing to hide and I am willing to answer any of your questions – if I can,’ Brent confirmed.

  ‘Tell us what exactly happened,’ Terry instructed.

  ‘I was at home reading a book and sipping on a fine cognac, when I received a phone call. A man informed me that my wife was in a flat with another man having… sexual intercourse. He told me to come to the flat alone.’

  ‘Who was the man who phoned you?’ Terry interrupted.

  ‘It later transpired that it was the man whom is now known as “The Ultimate”, detective.’

  ‘OK, please continue,’ Terry nodded.

  ‘He told me where to go and I heard my wife’s voice in the background…’ Brent began to sob, ‘when I arrived I was shown into the bedroom. My wife was on the bed, and so was a man. The man’s hands and feet were tied together. He then told me that my wife and this man had been having an affair for some time and that my wife was only with me for my money.’

  ‘Were they dressed or naked at this point?’ Terry asked.

  ‘Naked. He said that when he walked in they were having sex!’

  ‘Did you believe him?’

  ‘Yes, I did.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because the man still had a condom on his penis and my wife didn’t even try to deny it. She told me after… about the affair.’ He paused, taking a sip from the cup containing hot tea that his lawyer had bought him before the interview. ‘Val told me that she loved Conrad and that she didn’t love me anymore… as far as she was concerned, our marriage was over.’ Brent became more upset, reliving it all.

  ‘The man, “The Ultimate”, have you ever met him before?’

  ‘Come on… What kind of a question is that? I have no idea what this man looks like, let alone anything else about him,’ Brent grimaced.

  ‘What about Mr Michaels, had you ever met him before?’

  ‘No, never!’

  ‘OK, tell us what happened next,’ Terry wanted Brent to continue.

  ‘The Ultimate left the room and returned with a bowl of water. He then threw the water over Conrad and went on about choices saying that everything begins with choice and handed me that taser gun…’

  ‘Did he tell you that you had to use the taser gun? Did he tell you to shoot Conrad with it?’ McFarland interrupted.

  ‘No, he didn’t, he didn’t say anything, he just gave it to me. I knew what he wanted me to do. I told Val to get off the bed because I didn’t want to kill her. She got off and I shot him with the gun and when Conrad stopped moving, I looked and he was gone…’ He placed his head in to his hands.

  ‘Do you mean The Ultimate was gone?’

  ‘Yes, who else would I mean?’

  ‘I’m just trying to get the facts here, Mr Hope,’ Terry said reassuringly.

  ‘If he didn’t tell you what to do, how did you know that was what he wanted you to do?’ McFarland seemed confused.

  ‘Think about it, he threw water over Conrad and then gave me the gun… what do you think?’ Brent snapped.

  ‘How much cognac had you had to drink, Mr Hope?’

  ‘What? Are you going to arrest me for drink driving too?’

  ‘Please answer the question. I’m just trying to understand what your state of mind may have been like.’

  ‘Put it this way, I was over the limit to drive but I wasn’t drunk.’

  ‘Sometimes, when people are under the influence of alcohol, things can seem a bit blurry if you catch my drift.’

  ‘I do. But I’m recalling the events as they happened, with crystal clarity, detective.’

  ‘OK please continue…’ Terry gave McFarland a gentle nudge.

  ‘Val then told me to call the police…’

  ‘Did you?’

  ‘No, we got in to an argument. We always argued. She told me that she was going to divorce me when I was in prison. She said that she was going to take half my money and start a new life. I lost it!’ He stopped and looked at the man sitting opposite him. McFa
rland’s eyes widened. ‘That’s the first time in my life that I have ever lost control. I am a placid person, which was why she treated me so terribly. I always loved her, worshipped her, you know? I’ll never stop loving her. She walked all over me and it was my overflowing love for her that allowed her to do it,’ he said with a sincere look on his face.

  ‘Can you tell us about your wife’s murder?’ Terry was genuinely sorry for Brent, but he had a job to do.

  ‘Yes, sorry… I didn’t want… I suppose if I couldn’t have her I wasn’t going to allow any other man to. When I saw her there with Conrad, I felt sick to my stomach, so when I heard that she was going to start a new life without me, I walked over to her and picked up the lamp and hit her with it.’

  ‘Where did you hit her?’

  ‘She had tried to hide behind a pillow. The pillow was over her face. I hit the pillow with the lamp and her head hit the wall behind her.’

  ‘How many times did you hit her, or should I say, hit the pillow with the lamp?’

  ‘I don’t know… once maybe twice, but no more… No hold on, it was only once. I suppose I’ve blacked that out of my memory. I can remember picking the lamp up, then the rest is a little fuzzy. The next thing I remember is being told to move away from Val by a policeman pointing a gun at me.’

  ‘Who killed Conrad Michaels?’ Terry did not want Brent to diversify.

  ‘I guess I did!’

  ‘And who killed Valerie Brent?’

  ‘I did!’

  ‘Did anyone force you, either mentally or forcefully, to kill the two victims? Did The Ultimate force you in to the actions that you took?’

  ‘No,’ was his one word answer.

  ‘That said,’ Brent’s lawyer decided to break his silence, ‘The Ultimate lured my client to Mr Michaels’ flat, premeditating the outcome. If The Ultimate had not contacted my client, then none of this would ever have happened.’

  ‘That The Ultimate orchestrated this, Mr Fortroy-Holmes, is a fact, but The Ultimate did not kill either Mr Michaels or Mrs Hope – your client did and your client has confessed as much.’