” Michael's frantic, throbbing
temples were inches from Wendy's face now. “No. You have no idea. I
grew to resent every small piece of happiness you felt. You made me
do that, Wend. You pushed me to it. I never had parents. Alright,
so I lived in the same house as two people who fucked and gave
birth to me, but I never had parents. I had to bring myself up, a
child, knowing my slut whore sister was getting everything she
wanted.”
“It wasn't like
that, Michael! I don't know what is giving you these ideas but it's
all totally wrong. You have some problems, Michael.”
“I have plenty
of fucking problems, Wend! Six of them, to be precise! And I'm
about to make it seven.”
“Michael, I...”
Wendy's voice trailed off as she watched Michael slowly remove a
length of rope from his pocket. It was tied in a bowline knot.
“Y'know, I gave
the others all a chance to say goodbye. Only if they were good,
like. That Nicole Bryant tried screaming instead and she got what
she asked for. The others all played it very nicely and pleaded for
their lives. Do you have any idea how powerful that makes me feel?
I've never felt powerful before, Wend.”
“Michael...”
“Do you have
any last words? Better make them good...”
Wendy paused
and shook her head as a tear rolled from her eye. Through the salty
kaleidoscope she could just make out Michael's face. It was
smiling. As her body and mind fell short of any thought or feeling
for the first time in her life, she realised it would also be the
only time. No thoughts crossed her mind; no feeling flowed through
her veins. Only the gentle rasp of the rope that passed around her
neck and tightened; tightened.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
As lucidity and
sensitivity flowed back into her, her only sense was that of a
fading sensation; a totally different one to the physical
indifference she had felt just moments ago. This time, she was
slipping. Her chest heaved violently and gasped for air as her
cells used up the last of their precious oxygen. She could feel her
lungs thrusting against the inside of her ribcage as they lunged
desperately for an intake of that precious nectar. But none was
forthcoming. As her vision faded to black via dancing stars, she
felt a new kind of consciousness. As black faded back through
dancing stars, the nectar flowed back into her lungs, which gasped
and gulped at that precious air. She had heard no sound. Not, that
is, until she looked up in the direction of where her killer had
been stood.
“That was
bloody lucky. Thought I'd got the wrong house for a minute.”
“Guv!” she
choked, desperately looking around her, “Where is he? Where's
Michael?”
Culverhouse
raised his hand to show Wendy the blood-spattered remains of the
kettle.
“I don't think
he'll be getting up for a while. Fancy a cuppa?”
“Not right now.
What made you come here? I said I would be fine.”
“And I said you
wouldn't. Was I wrong?”
“You never are,
are you?” she said with gritted teeth.
“Bloody good
job too, eh?”
EPILOGUE
The cheers rang
out through the incident room as Wendy walked with modest grace
between the desks. Even Jack Culverhouse was applauding.
“Didn't have
you down as a clapper, guv.”
“I'm not, but
it's been a long time since I've seen a pair of legs and an arse
like that.”
“Hospital food.
Enough to make anyone lose three stone.”
“I'll bear that
in mind next time my brother is strangling the shit out of me.”
Wendy managed a
wry laugh. She could either laugh or cry and she had done enough of
one of those over the past few weeks.
“Well, welcome
back. I think it's safe to say we probably won't have another case
quite like that again.”
“We definitely
won't. I don't have any other brothers left.”
Culverhouse
matched her wry laugh of relief.
“Tell me,
Knight. Did you really not have even the slightest inkling that
Michael was involved?”
“No, how could
I?”
“Hmmph. Bloody
good
temples were inches from Wendy's face now. “No. You have no idea. I
grew to resent every small piece of happiness you felt. You made me
do that, Wend. You pushed me to it. I never had parents. Alright,
so I lived in the same house as two people who fucked and gave
birth to me, but I never had parents. I had to bring myself up, a
child, knowing my slut whore sister was getting everything she
wanted.”
“It wasn't like
that, Michael! I don't know what is giving you these ideas but it's
all totally wrong. You have some problems, Michael.”
“I have plenty
of fucking problems, Wend! Six of them, to be precise! And I'm
about to make it seven.”
“Michael, I...”
Wendy's voice trailed off as she watched Michael slowly remove a
length of rope from his pocket. It was tied in a bowline knot.
“Y'know, I gave
the others all a chance to say goodbye. Only if they were good,
like. That Nicole Bryant tried screaming instead and she got what
she asked for. The others all played it very nicely and pleaded for
their lives. Do you have any idea how powerful that makes me feel?
I've never felt powerful before, Wend.”
“Michael...”
“Do you have
any last words? Better make them good...”
Wendy paused
and shook her head as a tear rolled from her eye. Through the salty
kaleidoscope she could just make out Michael's face. It was
smiling. As her body and mind fell short of any thought or feeling
for the first time in her life, she realised it would also be the
only time. No thoughts crossed her mind; no feeling flowed through
her veins. Only the gentle rasp of the rope that passed around her
neck and tightened; tightened.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
As lucidity and
sensitivity flowed back into her, her only sense was that of a
fading sensation; a totally different one to the physical
indifference she had felt just moments ago. This time, she was
slipping. Her chest heaved violently and gasped for air as her
cells used up the last of their precious oxygen. She could feel her
lungs thrusting against the inside of her ribcage as they lunged
desperately for an intake of that precious nectar. But none was
forthcoming. As her vision faded to black via dancing stars, she
felt a new kind of consciousness. As black faded back through
dancing stars, the nectar flowed back into her lungs, which gasped
and gulped at that precious air. She had heard no sound. Not, that
is, until she looked up in the direction of where her killer had
been stood.
“That was
bloody lucky. Thought I'd got the wrong house for a minute.”
“Guv!” she
choked, desperately looking around her, “Where is he? Where's
Michael?”
Culverhouse
raised his hand to show Wendy the blood-spattered remains of the
kettle.
“I don't think
he'll be getting up for a while. Fancy a cuppa?”
“Not right now.
What made you come here? I said I would be fine.”
“And I said you
wouldn't. Was I wrong?”
“You never are,
are you?” she said with gritted teeth.
“Bloody good
job too, eh?”
EPILOGUE
The cheers rang
out through the incident room as Wendy walked with modest grace
between the desks. Even Jack Culverhouse was applauding.
“Didn't have
you down as a clapper, guv.”
“I'm not, but
it's been a long time since I've seen a pair of legs and an arse
like that.”
“Hospital food.
Enough to make anyone lose three stone.”
“I'll bear that
in mind next time my brother is strangling the shit out of me.”
Wendy managed a
wry laugh. She could either laugh or cry and she had done enough of
one of those over the past few weeks.
“Well, welcome
back. I think it's safe to say we probably won't have another case
quite like that again.”
“We definitely
won't. I don't have any other brothers left.”
Culverhouse
matched her wry laugh of relief.
“Tell me,
Knight. Did you really not have even the slightest inkling that
Michael was involved?”
“No, how could
I?”
“Hmmph. Bloody
good
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