Dark Corners - Twelve Tales of Terror (7 page)

Roberts
smiled reflectively as he continued.

“
I
wonder if the circumstances of my capture were as random and
incidental as they appeared, or if there was some higher power at
work. Had the dart landed in Boston or Nebraska, you and I wouldn’t
be having this conversation. But instead, it wedged itself into good
old San Antonio. Nestled right between the A and the N of Antonio. I
never liked going to Texas. I had killed here once before in 91’
and it was hard work. It was too hot, too dry for me. Too much dust
and not enough wind. Monde and I had driven around for what felt like
hours in my trusty white transit with SPEEDY TRANS written on the
side in a garish orange font. The mercury was touching a hundred and
four degrees, and even with the windows open and the air conditioning
on full, it was almost unbearable. I glanced over to Monde in the
passenger seat and felt a stab of jealousy. He didn’t look hot
or uncomfortable. He was playing it cool, with his foot up on the
dashboard and his elbow hanging out of the window. He had huge
reflective aviator glasses on that kept catching the sunlight and
hurting my eyes. It was then I saw a brunette with a slim waist and
large hips in tattered jeans shorts, walking unhurriedly down the
edge of the road. I glanced over to Monde for his approval, but he
just kept looking ahead. I knew he wouldn’t speak until he had
spotted the golden opportunity. What happened next you couldn’t
even make up, Mr. Elgin. I don’t believe in fate, but if there
is such a thing, that boiling hot Friday in July was it.

“
The
first thing that happened was the blown tire. It happened quickly,
and it took all my effort to steer the lurching, bucking van off the
road without rolling it into the ditch. I glanced over to Monde with
a
what the fuck
expression on my face, but he had gone. Retreated to whatever part of
my mind he lives in. He had left me to deal with it alone, so with no
other option, I climbed out of the van and into the baking July heat
to assess the situation. It was the left rear that had gone. It lay
against the dirt shoulder like a melted slug. I was in the process of
taking the spare tire out of the recessed panel in back, when a voice
called out to me to ask if everything was all right. I turned around
expecting to see some country-bumpkin-old-timer and almost screamed
outright.

It
was Petrov.

Imagine
winning the lottery every week for a year. Or throwing twelve sixes
in a row at the craps table. Those are the kind of odds we’re
talking about here. I pleaded with Monde to appear and tell me what
to do, but he didn’t, and I stood there in the back of the van
open-mouthed and sweating.

‘
Sir,
is everything alright?’ Petrov asked again.

He
didn’t sound Russian. That was the first thing that hit me. And
why should he? Even though I was born in Italy, I have no trace of an
accent either. I knew I had to answer, but had lost the ability to
speak. Instead, I managed a weak nod and went back to work freeing
the tire from the well. It’s funny, because although I’d
seen his picture in the papers, I never imagined him to be real. But
there he stood, in his sunglasses and plaid shirt with the sleeves
rolled up, a cup of Starbucks coffee in his hand.

The
words finally found their way out of my mouth—

‘
I’m
fine, officer. Just a tire blowout. I’ll change this up and be
on my way.’

Petrov
had nodded, and even though I couldn’t see them behind his
sunglasses, I could feel his eyes crawling over me, and over the
inside of the van. I tried to stay as calm as I could, and look as
casual as possible as I lifted the tire free from the well, but my
hands were shaking and I dropped it.

‘
Here,
let me give you a hand,’ Petrov said, and without another word
he set his cup on the ground and hopped into the van. I could feel
him staring at me, and was sure I could hear his thoughts processing
like some damn computer. We got the tire free and were wheeling it
towards the open back doors, when Monde finally made his appearance.

You
are going to have to kill him.

I
wanted to laugh and scream at the same time, but did neither.
Instead, I helped Petrov to get the tire out the back. Sweat was
dripping off me, but I felt better being out in the open. I could see
his car parked across the street, its bodywork glittering in the
fierce heat of the sun. I didn’t know the make and noticed the
steering wheel was on the opposite side. Petrov saw me looking and
flashed a crocodile grin.

‘
It’s
European. A gift from my father. Had it shipped over from Russia.’

I
nodded and somehow managed to hold on to my breakfast, which churned
and swilled around my gut.

‘
My
name is Petrov.’ He took off his glasses and held out his hand.
I didn’t want to, but forced myself to shake it. It felt
solid. Workers hands, as my father would have called them.

‘
Monde,’
I replied, then immediately regretted it. He watched me carefully for
a second, then turned his attention back to the tire.

‘
Ok,
Mr. Monde. Let’s change this and get you on your way. Where are
you headed?’

I
couldn’t think of an answer. I knew he was somehow reading my
thoughts, that he could tell what I was thinking. Luckily, Monde took
over.

‘
Just
passing through. Got a delivery to make in Houston.’

Petrov
nodded and I was calm. My hands had stopped shaking, and I set to
work loosening the nuts on the flat whilst Petrov worked the jack to
lift the van up. We worked in silence for a while with the heat of
the day on our backs, and I had just pulled the spent tire loose,
when he spoke again.

‘
You
delivered here before?’

‘
No.’

Petrov
nodded and I tried to stay calm, despite a belly full of ice. We
moved the spare tire into place and he looked up at me with one
probing eye closed against the glare of the sun.

‘
You
sure about that?’

‘
Positive.
I rarely get out this far.’

He
nodded in silence, and I was sure I could hear his brain ticking
over.

‘
It’s
funny,’ he said, setting down the cross-wrench and standing.
‘When I first approached, you called me officer.’

I
stood to meet his gaze, and we faced off in the blazing sun on a
backwards little San Antonio street. I tried to think of something to
say that wouldn’t incriminate me, but my silence only gave him
time to put more pieces of the puzzle together. His next words made
me feel sick.

‘
What
do you know about the Demon Dismemberer case?’

I
tried to look neutral, but was certain he could see the guilt written
all over my face.

‘
Only
what I’ve seen on the news,’ I heard myself say as I
crouched back down to the tire. I was no longer interested in
changing the wheel you understand, my eyes fixed greedily on the
abandoned wrench which lay in the dust.

‘
Yeah,
it’s funny,’ he said as he took a packet of cigarettes
out of his pocket and lit one, the smoke quickly dragged away by the
light breeze.

‘
I
was out here following up a lead on that particular case. There was a
girl killed here a couple of years ago. She worked over there.’

He
stuck his thumb over his shoulder to the glass-fronted café on
the other side of the street. I gave it a cursory glance as I
tightened the wheel nuts by hand. I had to make it look natural when
I reached for the wrench.

‘
Nobody
remembers much about the last time she was seen alive of course.
People tend not to remember details, even though we try our best to
encourage them.’

I
nodded, trying to look busy. I was looking for that word. The one
that begins with
o
and
ends in
y,
but I
couldn’t see it. Petrov had a smile on his face now. A smug and
satisfied smile as he took a cursory step back.

‘
I
hope you get a lead soon. Terrible business if you ask me,’ I
said, both surprised and impressed by how calm I sounded. Monde would
have been impressed too—if he hadn’t left me to my own
devices. Petrov nodded, took a long pull on his cigarette, then
dropped it to the road and stubbed it out with his boot.

‘
Witnesses
are funny creatures, Mr. Monde. They don’t appreciate how
useful even the smallest bits of information can be.’

He
crouched again now, and I could feel his eyes glaring through me. I
kept my own gaze fixed firmly on the tire, even though I was no
longer working on it.

‘
I’ve
interviewed more than three hundred people about this particular case
all over the country—and when you lay all the information out,
certain patterns present themselves.’

I
looked up at him then, and he was no longer smiling. I chose to
remain silent.

‘
They
seem like such trivial things, but sometimes… Sometimes they
start to jive.’

‘
How?’
I heard someone say, who may or may not have been me.

‘
Well,
let’s say a third of the people interviewed remember a white
van near some of the murder scenes.’ Petrov put his hand on my
van for emphasis.

‘
And
of those people, say a quarter remember that the van had New York
plates.’

I
crouched there, sweating and watching him as he seemed to grow more
and more confident. I had given up on grabbing the wrench. I knew he
had me.

‘
Now,
say another hundred of those people, unrelated to the first ones who
saw the van, say they remember a tall man in the area on the night of
any given murder—you see where I’m going with this?
Pretty soon you have a good idea of who you are looking for.’

I
prayed for Monde to tell me what to do. Monde always knew what to do.

‘
Imagine
my surprise when I looked out the window of the café there to
see a white van with New York plates broken down by the side of the
road. That alone would be reason enough to take a closer look, but
then I saw you climb out of the cab. What are you, six-five?’

‘
Six-seven,’
I replied distantly. My calves were burning from crouching there on
my haunches, but I was frozen and unable to move. Petrov didn’t
notice my discomfort. He was on a roll.

‘
And
that got me thinking: if I were a nationwide serial killer, how would
I go about it? How would I make sure I could reach all of those
places? And I thought to myself: well, I’d work for a delivery
firm. One where the leash was long and there was no way to track my
movements—a company like Speedy Trans for example.’

I
heard the approaching wail of police sirens. They were still distant,
but I knew they were coming for me. He must have called them in
straightaway—he was just keeping me busy until they arrived. I
looked up at him then, and offered a smile of my own.

‘
Congratulations.
You’ve caught the Demon Dismemberer.’ ”

Elgin
blinked and nodded. Roberts remained silent. There was no more to
say.

“
You
just…confessed?” Elgin asked, with a note of surprise.

“
I
would like to say I went out in a blaze of glory, but that would be a
lie. Hell, we both knew it was over. If you ran a blue light over the
inside of that van, it would have lit up like a damn Christmas tree.”

Elgin
nodded, then reached into his briefcase and brought out a single
sheet of paper and a pen.

“
I
think I have heard enough, Mr. Roberts.”

“
Yeah?
How did I do?”

“
I
think you will be perfect for the job.”

The
sound of the outer gate being unlocked echoed down the corridor.

“
Looks
like visiting hours are over, Elgin. Tell me what the job is.”

“
How
would you like the chance to have everything you ever wanted? The
opportunity to be as cruel and sadistic as you like, for all
eternity.”

More
keys rattling now, as the second door was unlocked.

“
Stop
screwing around with me, Elgin. You promised to get me out of here,
so do it!”

Roberts
was suddenly desperate to be free. All the talk of killing made him
realize he wasn’t ready to stop. Not yet.

“
You
must understand the terms, Mr. Roberts. Once you agree, there will be
no turning back.”

“
Elgin,
just tell me!”

“
How
would you like to be a demon, Mr. Roberts?” Elgin said from
behind his reptilian smile. Roberts exploded forwards and reached
through the bars.

“
You
motherfucker! I knew you were playing me! You sorry son of a bitch!”

Elgin
didn’t move. He’d positioned himself to be just barely
out of Roberts’ reach. Instead, he smiled and spoke calmly.

“
I
assure you, it’s no joke. I’ve been sent from hell to
recruit you, Mr. Roberts. You have all the qualities we are looking
for.”

“
You
fuck, I’ll tear you apart!” Elgin reached up and grabbed
Roberts by the forearm. His grip was like a vice. Roberts stopped
struggling and stared on, wide-eyed.