Once I was sure the coast was clear, I left the scene of the crime and walked with nonchalant stride towards my car. The heavy rain washed over me, taking with it any rogue droplets of blood that might have attached to my person. It had all gone perfectly.

It was almost six by the time I got back home. I planned to shower, dump my accessories to the crime, and get back up to Barnet to watch the aftermath. Oliver wouldn’t know what had hit him. I wanted to watch the drama unfold.

When I got back to the scene, I realised I must have left the front door ajar in my hurry to get away. I watched aghast as Rebecca appeared out of nowhere and proceeded to push it open. Before I knew what was happening, she’d disappeared inside, carrying a wicker basket of some sort in her hand.

I sat up in horror. Wednesday night was our night, the night she reserved for me. Since we met, she’d never ventured over the doorstep on a Wednesday. I couldn’t believe she would have moved on that quickly.

Ten minutes must have elapsed with no noise or commotion coming from the Target’s address. It was then I saw Oliver approach. He lumbered along, tentatively pausing by the front door. For a few seconds I feared he wouldn’t go in and that would have left Rebecca alone with the dead monster.

I waited, stricken that my plan was going horribly awry. I needn’t have worried because things turned out even better than I could have imagined.

72

Rebecca

The main entrance to the flats was ajar. It was unlike Mitch to leave it open. He’d be even more surprised by the gentle rap at the door. He would yell ‘coming’ and smile his roguish grin when he spotted me, already inside, on his doorstep.

Death has a presence. A sense of foreboding accompanied me along the corridor and I slowed my step. Perhaps it was because the door to your apartment was also unlatched that sent me a warning. Maybe it was something else. Later, all I remembered was the chill that seeped through my bones.

Red is what I remember, the colour red. The red striped rugs on the floor merged with the blotchy stains around the body. A halo of congealed blood circled the head and a red tie seemed to victoriously circle the throat, proclaiming victory. Bizarrely, I didn’t scream. At any minute I knew I would float up into the corner of the room and look down at the scene of my worst nightmare. Then I would wake up, bathed in sweat and relief that my imaginings weren’t real. At first I didn’t recognise you. It could have been anyone.