Dead Blonde

by Beck Robertson

  Her body began to stir slowly, a stifled choking sound emerging from her as she tried to lift her head. Groggily, she blinked rapidly, her eyes struggling to adjust to their newly awakened state. Catching sight of him there, standing over her, they widened in alarm. She started, as if she would get up, but quickly realised she couldn’t move her wrists, making a startled “Mmmphh” sound and rattling the bars of the bed as she learnt her feet were also firmly secured.

  “That won’t do you any good you know.” The rattling stopped momentarily and she looked up at him, scared, the uncertainty in her eyes.

  “I mean there’s no one here to hear you, well no one able to help you anyway.” Looking about her wildly he could see she was trying to ascertain where she was.

  “You don’t you remember where you are? You’re home, in your bedroom see?” Sitting down beside her on the bed he began to stroke her face tenderly. She shook her head in protest, turning her face away.

  “Yes, Sally. This is your home, with all your things just as you left them. Your CD collection, look,” he said, jumping up and skipping over to the stack of CDs piled on the shelf of her little bedside cabinet. Flipping through them, he paused to hold one up.

  “Skunk Anansie, remember? You wanted to go see them in concert.”

  Blankly she stared at him, not comprehending.

  “Hey it’s ok, I understand you’re confused right now. It’s been a long time hasn’t it? But we’re finally back together now, this is a very special moment for us,” he said, looking into her eyes and smiling tenderly at her. But she continued to look back at him in confusion, as if trying to make some sense of what was going on. Holding up another one of the CD’s from the stack with a flourish he looked at her triumphantly.

  “Found it! You must remember this one, you used to play it all the time.” Her eyes squinted at the disc and her mouth made a gurgling sound, she seemed to be trying to say something.

  “Look I can’t hear what you’re saying with that tape on. Now, I know this is all probably a shock to you and I know you’re frightened but I can’t take the tape off you if you’re going to scream.”

  He looked at her to gauge her response and she shook her head at him.

  “Promise you’re not going to scream and I’ll take the tape off.”

  Nodding she looked up at him with resentful eyes.

  “Good girl. You get a reward for that,” he said, pressing a button on the black CD player that was atop the small table. The lid popped open and he removed the disc from the CD case he was holding and placed it inside, pressing the button again to close the lid. The disc began to play the first song, “Violet” by Hole. Grinning in satisfaction he looked at her as music began to flood the room.

  “Now tell me you remember this?”

  She paused, looking up at him, then nodded.

  “Good girl again. Now this might hurt a bit so brace yourself, ” he warned her. She winced, closing her eyes, bracing herself for the inevitable pain.

  “Go on take everything, take everything I want you to.” The song blared out as he found the edge of the tape and yanked it back hard. She gave an involuntary yell as the duct tape pulled at her skin violently, and she tried to stifle it as she caught the look in his eyes.

  “Why are you doing this? I trusted you,” she said, spitting out the words.

  “Now come on, is that any way to talk to the love of your life?”

  “You…you’re not…” Biting down on his back teeth he clenched his jaw as his nostrils flared in anger.

  “Not what Sally?” Gripping the side of her arms tightly, he watched her face carefully.

  “N…not-” She stopped abruptly.

  “I..what do you want?”

  “All this,” he said, gesturing around him, “I go to all the trouble to make this happen and you’re not even grateful?” He thumped his arm down hard on the bed causing a spring in the mattress to resound with a heavy twang. She winced.

  “Do you know the fucking effort I went through to arrange this?” he said, his upper lip curling as he fixed her with a stare.

  “Well?” He crossed his arms, awaiting her response. Shaking her head, she bit her lip.

  “No, I didn’t think so. Well I’ve waited years to find you, to make this happen for both our sakes. And now you want to throw it back in my face all over again?”

  “I didn’t mean to….I…” She paused, “I’m…I’m really sorry.”

  He brought his arm down hard on the bed again;

  “You’re not sorry. You’re just like all the rest of them.”

  “No, I…I really am sorry, I didn’t mean it you just took me by surprise. I’ve waited for this too.”

  Placated, he softened at her words a little, shaking his head slowly as he looking at her. Bringing his arm up to her cheek he went to stroke it again. She flinched slightly at his touch, the trembling of her lip giving away her fright.

  “Why can’t you see that I just wanted us to be together again?”

  Nodding she bit her lip, as if she were attempting to still the quiver.

  “I loved you, I fucking loved you so much. You were supposed to be the one, the one that could make everything alright again,” he looked at her, his eyes searching her face for something, anything, some flicker of emotion that would tell him she cared about him. Still trembling she raised her head to look at him, her blue eyes meeting his brown ones.

  “No need to be scared Sally,” he said, looking into her eyes, his tone genuinely tender. Reaching out for her again, his hand stroked her cheek.

  “You and me. It was always supposed to be you and me. You were the only one who ever showed me any love.”

  “

  “Y…yes,” she stammered, “you and me,” she said, her tone shaky but his heart still soared at the acknowledgement.

  “So you understand now why I had to do what I did?” He looked at her hopefully, his eyes pleading with hers.

  She took a deep breath before nodding her acquiescence.

  “Yes I understand now,” she said giving him a thin smile of reassurance, her body still trembling slightly. Well she was probably nervous, scared, and emotional, that was normal, it was all rather unexpected after all. Nothing to worry about, everything was going to be alright now.

  “She doesn’t love you. She doesn’t want you.” You can shut up Mother, you don’t know anything.

  “There’s something I wanted to give to you…wait,” he said, fumbling in his pocket and excitedly bringing out the red velvet box.

  “I wanna give my violet more violence.” Courtney Love’s voice wailed out, it was just like before, all those years ago, he was going to do the impossible. Undo the past. It could be done.

  Thrusting the box under her nose he brandished it at her. Her eyes flashed with recognition as she saw it.

  “Remember this Sally. Let me give it to you properly this time. How it always should have been done.”

  “Wa…wait?”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “Wait?”

  “Yes…” she paused, gulping, “I want to be able to accept it properly. How can I do that if my hands are tied behind my back and I’m lying here like this?”

  Regarding her suspiciously he considered her words.

  “Untie my wrists…please? I can’t escape if my ankles are tied to the bed anyway.”

  Nodding he relented.

  “I suppose so. But I warn you don’t even think of trying anything funny.”

  “I won’t, I promise,” she said, shaking her head as she looked up at him, her expression earnest.

  “Better not.”

  Reaching over, he bent down to the bindings at her wrist, his fingers working to unfasten them.

  “You know how long I’ve waited for this, to be touching you again, holding you?” He peered back to check the expression on her face, as if to ensure she had heard him.

  “I…I’ve been waiting for you too…”

  Smiling he bent to he
r wrists again, his fingers deftly picking apart the rope, as the knot work yielded.

  “There we go, now you can sit up and-” She sunk her teeth into his thigh.

  “Owww fuck, you little bitch!” Massaging his leg, he looked at her, shaking his head slowly. Lunging for her he grabbed for her throat, but she scooted back on to her left elbow in an effort to escape his grip. So she thought she could betray him like this? Betray their love? Even now, after all these years, after all she had done to hurt him?

  “I told you she doesn’t want you, she doesn’t love you.” The voice a hiss, insidious as it mocked him. Shut up Mother, shut up, shut up, shut up.

  He would show her, they belonged together.

  “It’s no use trying to get away Sally,” he said, taunting her, “how far do you really think you’re going to get tied to a bed?” She paused, as they eyed each other, both momentarily, unsure.

  “That was a very stupid fucking mistake to make,” he said, lunging for her throat again. Lightning fast, she brought her right arm from behind her back, the torch that had been hanging from her belt now in her hand, but she was too slow and he caught her by the wrist, squeezing hard.

  “Let go of my wrist…please,” she breathed, panting. Oh she wouldn’t trick him again, he’d never drop his guard again.

  “Drop the torch…drop it Sally…there’s a good little girl,” he said, tightening his grip on her.

  “No…please…I just wanted-” he hushed her, running the fingers of his left hand over her bottom lip while his other hand encircled her wrist squeezing.

  “Drop it now Sally and no one will get hurt, I promise you.” She was so beautiful, why, why couldn’t it be perfect? Why couldn’t she love him the way he loved her?

  “No one could ever love you. You’re a freak, an abomination.” I killed you Mother, you aren’t real. Would she ever go away, would there ever be a time when her voice would disappear from his mind? Trembling she allowed the torch to fall to the bed. Picking it up slowly, he stood up tossing it from palm to palm as if assessing the weight of it.

  “You know it’s quite ironic really…” he said, pausing and tilting his head as he regarded her. She looked at him quizzically, her expression distrustful.

  “Well you could have chosen anything to whack me over the head with and you choose a torch. A symbol of illumination, some might say that’s rather coincidental considering you intended to knock my lights out.” He grinned at her, raising an eyebrow but she didn’t respond, her eyes watching him closely.

  He moved closer to her and she cringed as he stood above her. Raising his arm above his head, he made as if to strike her, his fingers curling tightly around the black rubber of the torch’s shaft. He brought his arm down, deliberately missing her by inches, his grin widening as she flinched.

  “Boo! Did I scare you?” He sat down beside her again cupping her face, forcing her to look at him.

  Trying to avert her eyes, she refused, and he sighed. She obviously wasn’t going to co-operate. He’d have to resort to other measures. Well that was ok. He still had a full syringe and he’d already dealt with the other little matter thankfully.

  “And all the sky was violet, I wanna give my violet more violence, And I’m the one with no soul, One above and one below.”

  Reaching into his pocket he brought out the syringe. She started when she saw it, trying to back away, her eyes widening in fear.

  “No, no please don’t, I won’t fight any more I promise,” she pleaded, recoiling from him. Shaking his head, he gripped her tightly underneath the chin.

  “Oh I’m afraid it’s much, much too late for promises Sally.”

  He took her by the tops of her arms, shaking her.

  “Why? Why did you do that? Why did you have to betray me like that?” The spittle was gathering at the corners of his mouth as he spat the words.

  “I told you no one could ever love you.”

  “I didn’t-” Stabbing her neck with the syringe he pressed down hard, her body slumping almost immediately. Tossing the empty container to one side, he stood up, his mouth a hard, grim line as he reached for the roll of duct tape he’d placed atop the side table. Grabbing her wrists roughly, he pinned them behind her back as he wound the tape round them binding them securely together.

  Tearing off another piece, he pressed it firmly over her mouth. It wasn’t supposed to end like this but it didn’t really matter anyway. Death would bring them together. But there was something else he had to deal with first. A piece of revenge that had been a long time coming.

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE - DEACON

  He strode into the station looking around.

  “Gaine?” Detective Sergeant Hobbs came running up breathlessly, “Gateway’s here, in the briefing room.”

  “Any new developments yet?” He looked at Hobbs who shook his head in reply.

  “Not really. Got the stuff through from Barnes on Randall. Nothing on Doyle yet, sorry. We’re working on pulling up the CCTV footage but we haven’t got it through yet. I’ll let you know as soon as we do.” Nodding he turned away.

  “I’ve sent a team down to Helena Randall’s house to see what they can find,” he said, calling out over his shoulder.

  “Yeah I got the report when you rang it through. Must have been pretty horrific.”

  He turned back to face Hobbs.

  “Yeah it wasn’t pretty let’s just say that. This seriously implicates Randall, we desperately need an ID now. I need to know the last place of address that Brynn Randall was registered at, keep looking into it.”

  Hobbs nodded.

  “Yep, got it Sarge,”

  “And find everything you can on Louise Randall before the name change was made, keep digging around, see what you can find never know what might prove useful.”

  Hobbs nodded his assent again.

  ”Alright. Oh I had a call from custody, Vice brought in Kenneth Carver. Drug bust, again.”

  Frowning, he raised his eyebrows. Carver was a nasty piece of work. A big time drug pusher. He’d been implicated in the stabbing of Leonard Fitzroy, a rival drug dealer who’d dared to infringe on his Soho patch, peddling coke cut with methamphetamine in an effort to undercut Carver’s goons.

  “What was the call about?”

  “Apparently he’s saying he wants to talk to you. Says he knows something about the dead girl, Marilyn Channing.”

  He rolled his eyes.

  “He better not be fucking wasting my time. Did he say what?”

  “Nothing, said he’d only talk to you.”

  Nodding, he turned to go.

  “Alright, let me speak to Gateway, then I’ll go down and talk to him.”

  ***

  Sara Gateway looked up from her position seated around the circular table in the middle of the briefing room.

  “Inspector Gaine,” she said nodding at him and smiling politely, “it’s good to see you again, unfortunately I’m sorry it’s under such bad circumstances.”

  “Professor,” he said, nodding to acknowledge her and extending his hand out in greeting, “thank you for coming,” he added.

  “Not a problem Inspector, I’m happy to be of any assistance I can to the investigation. It’s a matter of priority we stop this man, he’s very dangerous. Besides I should be used to being on call whenever I’m needed by now. As I’m sure you yourself are too.”

  “Indeed. Did DI Barnes brief you fully on the situation with Louise Randall?”

  “Oh yes Inspector, he sent it all to me through email. I have been looking at Louise’s previous medical history. It makes for rather interesting reading. I heard the mother had been found beheaded in her own home?”

  He nodded wincing slightly at the memory. The sight had been horrific even for an experienced cop like he was.

  “She was yes. Louise Randall is an obvious suspect especially since we can’t locate her. But the information Barnes found on her medical records, what does it mean for the case?”

  “We
ll we know that Louise transitioned back in 1999. So we’re talking about an individual who has a strong male identity-”

  “Sorry what does that mean exactly?” Interjecting, he looked at her confused. He remembered diversity had made them do some transgender awareness training a couple of years back, but he wasn’t sure exactly how it related to Louise Randall.

  “Louise was born with a female body Inspector, but that didn’t fit with her or should I say his gender identity. So Louise medically transitioned and apparently took the name Brynn Randall,” she said, looking at him.

  “But Brynn Randall was the brother,” he said, scratching his head as he looked at her. She nodded.

  “It seems so yes. It is very probable Louise took Brynn’s identity to start afresh, to hide the past.”

  “Why not just take a new name?” He frowned, looking at her quizzically. She sighed.

  “Louise was clearly a disturbed individual Inspector.”

  “She was mentally disturbed?” She shook her head.

  “He not she,” she said, correcting him, “and yes mentally disturbed, but not I should stress because of gender identity disorder.”

  “But it is a disorder? So what do you mean?”

  “Its technical name is Gender Identity Disorder yes. But in a healthy person, it’s very easily remedied by medical transition. In fact it’s not even considered a condition by most of the medical establishment anymore. It simply means someone is transsexual.”

  He scratched his head.

  “So Louise isn’t mentally ill?”

  “On the contrary, Louise is a very unhealthy person Inspector. The results of the psychometric tests that DI Barnes sent through, that Louise was required to complete at the time of the gender identity assessment, show a diagnosis of borderline sociopathy.”

  He stared at her incredulously and she nodded, smiling tightly to acknowledge his confusion.

  “In other words, being transsexual is not the problem obviously. But the clinical predisposition to sociopathy is,” she said, adjusting her glasses, which had begun to work their way down her long thin aquiline nose.