‘We’ll find you, you know,’ Cody says. ‘You won’t get away with this.’
‘Are you sure about that? You’re looking for an overweight man with glasses, red hair and a beard. Good luck finding me with that description. I suppose you could try asking Parker there what I really look like, but you probably won’t get much sense out of him.’
‘You sick bastard,’ Webley says.
‘No, Megan. It’s the world that’s sick. All it needs is a bit more love, and then there would be no need for people like me to fix things.’
‘I think the world will manage perfectly well without your kind of help.’
‘We’ll see. I hope you’ll think differently soon, Megan. And on that note, I think it’s time for me to bid you both good day. I should probably move on after five deaths. Cherish the love, people.’
The speaker falls silent. Webley takes a step towards the camera.
‘Are you still there? ARE YOU THERE, YOU FUCKING PSYCHO?’
She feels a gentle touch on her arm. It’s Cody.
‘Let’s get out of here,’ he says.
She looks at him, then back at Parker. The tears are flowing freely now. She nods, then starts to follow Cody.
Her steps along the landing are a slow, funereal march. As she descends the stairs she is hardly aware of her surroundings until her eyes are hit by a blaze of light streaming through the glazed panels of the front door. She blinks, wipes away the tears. Cody opens the front door and moves out into the daylight. She sees him turn slightly to check she is still following. As she exits the house she feels a curious absence of relief, as though she has left unfinished business behind. Her mind swirls with what she has seen and heard. It is so surreal.
Cody faces her. ‘You okay?’
She says nothing. Cody reaches into his pocket and brings out his police radio. A few short sentences is all it will take to cause a mass of police and technicians to descend on this horror show. Webley is aware that her own testimony will be drawn out of her, to be analysed and dissected. She needs to remember everything but wants to remember nothing.
She suddenly realises that she still hasn’t said a proper goodbye to Parker. A kiss, a few whispered words. She would very much appreciate that closure. When her colleagues arrive, they will cordon off the scene and it will be too late. Blunt will send her home, and all she will have left of her former fiancé is his finger and his appendix.
And then something hits her. Something that Bobby said over the speaker.
She looks at Cody. He is ending his radio call.
‘They’re on the way,’ he says. But then he sees the expression on Webley’s face. ‘What’s up?’
She turns, starts heading back towards the house.
‘Megan? Where are you going?’
‘I have to check something,’ she answers.
‘Check what? What are you talking about?’
She is probably wrong. She knows this. But this is a strange case. It couldn’t be any weirder. It may still hold surprises.
She picks up the pace in the hallway, then flies up the stairs. Cody is at her heels.
‘Megan! What are you doing?’
She pauses briefly on the landing. ‘His heart.’
‘What?’
‘Where was Parker’s heart? I didn’t see it, did you?’
‘I… what? Megs, there was a lot of stuff in there. I don’t think—’
But Webley is already at the bedroom. She pushes the door open, goes to the bed, stands over Parker’s unmoving form.
Cody is still in the doorway. ‘Megan, please. Come away. This isn’t helping.’
I’m probably wrong, she thinks. Almost certainly wrong.
She reaches down, stretches out her arm.
‘Megan, no!’
And then she sweeps from right to left with her forearm. The pile of organs slithers wetly across Parker’s body and lands on the carpet with a squelching sound.
She stares at Parker’s torso, rubs her palm across the blood-smeared flesh.
It’s intact.
No cuts. Not even a scratch.
I’m not wrong!
‘Jesus!’ says Cody. ‘What the fuck?’
