Chapters (72)
‘Let me be your friend, let me, let me.’ He said it again and again in a whining voice. ‘Please let me, please, Karin, let me, let me, let me.’ The fingers crept closer. ‘Let me, let me, let me.’
When his hand almost touched hers, Karin cried out and snatched hers away. He grabbed the knife, the blade scraping noisily across the wood as he lifted it.
‘If you don’t want to be my friend, what’s the point of you?’ he snarled. ‘If you don’t want to be my friend, I may as well kill you now.’
She was terrified, she didn’t want to die, and heard herself whisper, ‘I’ll be your friend.’
‘Thank you.’ Jerry looked relieved. ‘Thank you.’
He replaced the knife and composed himself.
Karin bit back her fear. ‘I’m your friend, I promise I am.’
He smiled. ‘As we’re friends now, call me Jerry.’
‘Yes.’
‘Yes, Jerry.’
‘Yes, Jerry.’
His head twitched. ‘I’m so glad because friends tell each other everything, don’t they, and I’ve waited so long to have a friend to talk to. I have so much to tell you, Karin.’
‘Tell me what?’ she whispered.
He leaned forward, and a big smile lit up his face.
‘Tell you about all the people I killed, of course.’
38
When she arrived at the estate, Sasha suited up into coveralls. An officer at the scene volunteered a shoulder to lean on while she slipped on the protective overshoes.
Ajay walked towards her between the police vehicles parked along the slip road, ignoring the clot of onlookers on the other side of the police tape, local residents who had come to enjoy the goings-on. A television van was pulling up outside the estate, no doubt the first of many. The disappearance of Lucas – abducted in broad daylight, only yards from his school – had sent the press into a feeding frenzy. Media people were pouring into town.
‘Feeling better this morning, Mrs Dawson?’ asked Ajay.
He clearly hadn’t heard yet about Kev’s assault on Nelson and she didn’t fancy going into all the grisly details now, but word would soon spread.
‘I didn’t get much sleep last night,’ she replied, which was true enough. When she’d finally got into bed beside Kev, she had tossed and turned, and when she eventually nodded off, she dreamed she was sitting in an empty auditorium listening to Sammi’s anxious singing. She awoke exhausted to find the bed empty; Kev had already left for work.
Ajay examined her forehead, making a face of mock disgust as if the bump, barely more than a red mark now, was something shocking. ‘I haven’t seen anything so grotesque since my personal trainer grew a man-bun.’
‘The tiny injury to my head will have almost disappeared by tomorrow,’ she told him, ‘but you’ll still be ugly.’