Kill Me Again (31 page)

‘I remember feeling sick,’ he said. ‘I thought I was going to throw up in front of the whole cycling team. Somebody other than me asked the question: “Who was it?” The lecturer who was leading the group said, “Sonia Beecham,” and I nearly passed out. I felt the room spinning. Thank God this was some other poor kid. It had nothing to do with me.’

Duncan pushed himself up off the floor and went to the wardrobe opposite the bathroom. He slid the door open and bent down to retrieve a small cardboard box, which he carried back to where he had been sitting and slumped back down the wall. Maggie glanced at the box and knew instantly where it had come from. This had to be the contents of Duncan’s cupboard – his mementos. Settling back down with the box between his knees, he pulled out an old newspaper and handed it to Maggie.

She looked at the picture – a pretty girl with shoulder-length blonde hair and a shy smile. Underneath was an article about the murder and where they had found the body.

‘Before I saw the newspaper, I thought it was just another murder in Manchester. Thank God, it really had all been a fantasy. And then I saw the photograph and I knew. This girl –
this Sonia Beecham – was the spitting image of Tamsin. I knew then that they’d followed the instructions on the website from Invictus. This murder was going to be the first of three.’

‘So what did you do?’

Duncan looked down and said nothing. Maggie leapt off the bed and knelt in front of him. She grabbed his head between her open palms and forced him to look at her.

‘Did you warn Tamsin?
Did you?
Did you go to the police and tell them what had happened? What did you
do
, Duncan? For God’s sake, tell me you did
something
.’

He reached up and pulled her hands away.

‘Of course I didn’t. The police would have blamed me, Mags. And it wasn’t my fault. I was in over my head. I was a kid in and out of care – exactly the sort the police like to pin things on. I had just been fantasising – exactly what my counsellor told me to do – but how could I prove that?’

‘Your
counsellor!
Did you tell him what he’d done? Did he realise what happened because of what he had advised you to do? You knew they were going to kill somebody else, didn’t you? You could have stopped it.’ Maggie’s voice cracked. She sat back on her heels, staring at a man she didn’t know.

Duncan shook his head. His face was flushed with anger – at her or at the guys from the website she wasn’t sure.

‘None of this was my fault. I thought killing one girl it might have put them off. They’d had their thrill – that was the end of it. But then I went on my second cycling trip – to Keswick – and that’s when they killed Tamsin.’

‘And you
still
didn’t do anything?’ Maggie buried her face in her hands as tears streamed down her cheeks. ‘Stop saying it wasn’t your fault, for Christ’s sake. You could have done something; you could have stopped it.’

‘What could I do? I didn’t know who they were. But they found out who I was because when Tamsin was killed I was questioned by the police and there was a picture of me in the paper.’

Maggie knew that after Tamsin was killed, had Duncan admitted his part in it all he would almost inevitably have been charged with something – probably conspiracy to murder or soliciting to murder, either of which would have resulted in a prison sentence. So he had done nothing.
Nothing
. Even though he had known that the plan was to kill three girls.

She lifted her head and stared at him.

‘All this because of a blow job? For God’s sake, Duncan…’ Maggie trailed off. There was no more to say.

Duncan was immediately on the defensive, a hint of anger in his tone. He sat up straighter against the wall.

‘It’s easy for you to say that. You have no idea how I felt. How did
you
feel when you thought I might have left you for another woman?’

‘I felt like shit, but even if you had, I wouldn’t have wanted to
murder
anybody. And we’ve been married for ten years and have two kids. It’s not some short term relationship, for fuck’s sake.’

She turned away from him and crawled back to the bed, clambered onto the duvet and rolled onto her side, her back to Duncan. She didn’t want to look at her husband, to see his face as he made his excuses.

‘I had nobody back then, Mags. Remember that. For the first time, I had thought I had somebody that cared about
me
. Just me.’

Maggie felt a momentary tug of sympathy for a boy who was so alone, but nothing could excuse this.

‘What about the third girl?’ she asked, her back still to him.

For a moment, Duncan said nothing. Maggie waited, not trusting herself to speak again.

‘It went wrong.’ His voice was low, and he cleared his throat. ‘Samil had worked with this other guy – some posh kid, from what I could gather by the way he expressed himself on the site – who had a grudge against the world, it seemed. He was what Invictus called a schemer – Machiavellian. He had access to some places where the kills could take place. I don’t know much more than that. He was going to do the second one, but he didn’t have the balls to use a knife, so he decided to strangle her. I think he just wanted to know what it felt like to kill somebody, but in the end he couldn’t finish it, so Samil did. The other guy helped dispose of the bodies. But he wanted another go with the third one. He messed it up and she survived.’

‘Thank God for small mercies,’ Maggie whispered under her breath, replaying Duncan’s words in her head. She was staggered by the ease with which he had referred to the kills and the disposal of the bodies.

Duncan went quiet and Maggie rolled over to look at him. He was back to contemplating the patterned carpet between his feet. The pause gave Maggie time to think. How could the man to whom she had felt so close – as if, as she had said to Suzy, she was almost inside his
skin with him – have had all these secrets, this history that he had concealed from her? What else had he hidden from her? Who was he, really?

‘That’s when it got really difficult.’ Duncan had started again, talking quietly, barely opening his mouth as if he didn’t want to say the words out loud.

She had thought it was over, that all the horrors had been aired. But then she realised there had to be more, or why would this Samil be threatening them all now?

‘Samil wanted me to kill his stepmother. He said I owed him. I didn’t do it, Mags. I had to leave university to look after my mother – I told you that. So I used the opportunity to get away and changed my name.’

Maggie had no more words – there was nothing left to say. As a defence lawyer, she could argue that a young, impressionable boy had found himself in a dreadful situation with nobody to guide him out of it. As a wife, she didn’t know how to deal with the revelations – the secrets, the lies, but most of all the lack of a conscience. Duncan didn’t think any of it was his fault.

‘I think it’s time we moved you from here,’ Maggie said, her voice weary. ‘We don’t want the manager getting suspicious and calling the police to check my story. Let’s find somewhere else.’

She felt ill, but she had to be practical. Her head ached and her whole body seemed to be full of sandbags, each of her limbs heavy and unwieldy. But she had to get him out of this hotel.

‘I’ve not got much cash left, Mags, and I’m not happy about using a credit card. I don’t know who these guys are. What if one of them is police and he can track me?’

Duncan looked beaten. For a man who was meticulous about his clothes, his jeans looked crumpled and a size too big, and his demeanour made him seem small, shrunken. But she couldn’t rid herself of the thought that her husband only seemed concerned about what Samil might do to
him
. Samil knew where she
lived
, for God’s sake. He had threatened
her
.

Hiding her hurt at his thoughtlessness she reached for her bag. ‘I’ve got enough money for a couple of nights, and then let’s hope it will all be over. Pack your stuff, Duncan. Please.’

Duncan stood up and held out his arms. ‘Come here,’ he said

Maggie took a step back.

‘Okay. Suit yourself.’ He turned away and began to pick up items of clothing and shove them haphazardly in his bag.

She had rejected him and he didn’t know how to deal with it. She didn’t think it had ever happened before.

‘Dunc…’

‘Forget it, Maggie. Let’s just go.’ He walked into the bathroom to collect the few odds and ends on the narrow glass shelf. He stuck the small cardboard box on top of everything in his bag and walked towards the door.

‘After you,’ he said, holding the door open with mock courtesy.

There was no chance to speak after that. She told Mr Trainer that she was taking him to the police station, and that Duncan’s van would have to remain where it was until tomorrow, when somebody would come and collect it. She hoped that was acceptable. Mr Trainer kept his head down over his paperwork, but kept giving Duncan surreptitious glances from under his bushy eyebrows. Duncan’s lips were tightening by the second, and Maggie knew she needed to get him out of there.

They didn’t speak again until they were in the car.

‘You know, Maggie, you seem to think I shouldn’t have kept any of this from you. But just look at your reaction: you didn’t even want to give me a hug. So if I’d told you when we met, do you think you would ever have married me?’

Maggie couldn’t answer. She had loved him so much and would never regret the time they had spent together. She still loved him, and still wanted him in her life. But would she have married him all those years ago? No, she wouldn’t. She liked to think she would have gone to the police and told them the whole story.

She put the key in the ignition and started the engine to clear the steamed-up windscreen, suddenly exhausted by the emotional carnage of the past few days. She had so much left to ask him, but she didn’t know if she had the energy.

The car began to warm up, but she didn’t feel ready to drive. Not yet.

‘If you must know, Duncan, I feel as if I’ve been put through a shredder. That just about sums it up. This isn’t about whether you kept anything from me. It’s about what you
did
and who you
are
, so forgive me if I’m a bit confused at the moment. And don’t you dare judge me. If I’m honest, I don’t much like the sound of Michael, but I do love Duncan and always have done. I need to separate the young bloke who was lonely and unhappy and made a
terrible mistake that cost two girls their lives from the man who nursed his mother and who’s been a loving husband and father. I need time.’

Suddenly she was shaking, and hot tears spilled down her cheeks.

‘I’m so sorry, Mags,’ Duncan murmured. ‘I didn’t want to hurt you. It was all so long ago and I’m not that person anymore. We need to deal with this so we can go back to how we were.’

Maggie’s tears dried as instantly as they started. She had forgotten that his confession was far from the end of it.

‘So what, exactly,
are
we dealing with?’ she asked, dreading the answer.

‘I have to pay for failing to kill Samil’s stepmother. He couldn’t do it himself – his motive was glaringly obvious. Then apparently his father died and left all his money to her. There was nothing Samil could do. Since then she’s died too, but she left the whole lot to her own children. They’re not even his father’s kids.’

‘What do you mean, you have to pay?’

‘I don’t know, Mags. He wants to make me suffer, but he won’t tell me precisely what he wants me to do. I thought if he couldn’t find me he might get bored with the idea, or slip up and I would find him first. I don’t know. He says he wants to meet me.’

‘How the hell is he communicating with you?’

‘Through the same website. He sent me a text message on my phone – several, in fact, in the last couple of weeks, asking to meet. I ignored them.’

‘So what happened?’

‘You know what happened. He killed that woman, the one that looked just like you. He sent me the picture and said we had to keep in touch via the website.’

Maggie closed her eyes. There was no point asking him why he hadn’t gone to the police at that point. If he hadn’t gone twelve years ago, there was no way he would have considered going now.

She knew she had to say something. Her voice was quiet because she was sure she knew the answer.

‘And if you don’t meet him and do whatever it is he’s going to ask you to do?’

Duncan looked away from her, out through the clear windscreen to the black car park.

‘I don’t know.’

She spun round and looked at him. ‘Yes you bloody do. Say it, Duncan, just say it.’

‘He says he’ll kill you.’

49

After Duncan’s pronouncement, Maggie put the car into gear and drove, checking repeatedly over her shoulder to see if she was being followed.

The threat to her life shouldn’t have come as a surprise given the phone calls and the note she had received, but now it was real. These men had already killed four times – twice twelve years ago, twice this week. Another death would mean nothing to them. They wouldn’t hesitate to kill her if it suited their aims.