“Then where are they?” said Banks.
“And where is she?” said Jenny.
“Isn’t it just remotely possible,” Banks suggested, pushing his plate aside, “that the two questions have the same answer?”
Maggie woke up with a splitting headache and a feeling of nausea deep in the pit of her stomach. She felt weak and disoriented; didn’t know at first where she was or how much time had gone by since she lost consciousness. The curtains were open and she could see it was dark outside. As things slowly came into focus, she realized she was still in her own bedroom. There was one bedside lamp turned on; the other lay in pieces on the floor. That must have been what Lucy hit her with, Maggie thought. She could feel something warm and sticky in her hair. Blood.
Lucy hit her! The sudden revelation shocked her closer to consciousness. She had seen the video: Lucy and Terry doing things to that poor girl, Lucy looking as if she were enjoying herself.
Maggie tried to move and found that her hands and feet were bound to the brass bed. She was tied up and spread-eagled, just like the girl on the video. She felt the panic rise in her. She thrashed around, trying to get loose, but only succeeding in making the bedsprings creak loudly. The door opened and Lucy came in. She was dressed in her jeans and T-shirt again.
Lucy shook her head slowly. “Look what you made me do, Maggie,” she said. “Just look at what you made me do. You told me you weren’t coming back for another day.”
“It was you,” Maggie said. “On that video. It was you. It was vile, disgusting.”
“You weren’t supposed to see that,” said Lucy, sitting at the edge of the bed and stroking Maggie’s brow.
Maggie flinched.
Lucy laughed. “Oh, don’t worry, Maggie. Don’t be such a prude. You’re not my type, anyway.”
“You killed them. You and Terry together.”
“You’re wrong there,” said Lucy, getting up again and pacing the room, arms folded. “Terry never killed anyone. He didn’t have the bottle. Oh, he liked them tied up naked, all right. He liked to do things to them. Even after they were dead. But I had to do all the killing myself. Poor things. See, they could only take so much, and then I had to put them to sleep. I was always gentle. Gentle as I could be.”
“You’re insane,” said Maggie, thrashing around on the bed again.
“Keep still!” Lucy sat on the bed again, but this time she didn’t touch Maggie. “Insane? I don’t think so. Just because you can’t understand me doesn’t mean I’m insane. I’m different, true. I see things differently. I need different things. But I’m not insane.”
“But why?”
“I can’t explain myself to you. I can’t even explain myself to me.” She laughed again. “Least of all to me. Oh, the psychiatrists and psychologists would try. They would dissect my childhood and toss around their theories, but even they know when it gets right down to it that they’ve got no explanations for someone like me. I just am. I happen. Like five-legged sheep and two-headed dogs. Call it what you will. Call me evil, if it helps you understand. More important right now, though, is how am I going to survive?”
“Why don’t you just go? Run away. I won’t say anything.”
Lucy gave her a sad smile. “I wish that were true, Maggie. I wish things were as easy as that.”
“They are,” Maggie said. “Go. Just go. Disappear.”
“I can’t do that. You’ve seen the tape. You know. I can’t let you just walk around with that knowledge. Look, Maggie, I don’t want to kill you, but I think I can. And I think I must. I promise I’ll be every bit as gentle as I was with the others.”
“Why me?” Maggie whimpered. “Why did you pick on me?”
“You? Easy. Because you were so willing to believe that I was a victim of domestic violence, just like you. True enough, Terry had been getting unpredictable and had lashed out on one or two occasions. It’s an unfortunate thing that men like him lack the brains, but they don’t lack for brawn. No matter, now. Do you know how I met him?”
“No.”
“He raped me. You don’t believe me, I can tell. How could you? How could anyone? But he did. I was walking to the bus stop after I’d been to a pub with some friends, and he dragged me in an alley and raped me. He had a knife.”
“He raped you, and you married him? You didn’t tell the police?”
Lucy laughed. “He didn’t know what he was getting into. I gave him the rape of his life. It might have taken him a while to realize it, but I was raping him as much as he was raping me. It wasn’t my first time, Maggie. Believe me, I know all about rape. From experts. There was nothing he could do that hadn’t been done to me before, time after time, by more than one person. He thought he was in control, but sometimes it’s the victim who’s really in control. We had a lot in common, we soon found out. Sexually. And in other ways. He kept on raping girls even after we were together. I encouraged him. I used to make him tell me all the details of what he’d done to them while we were fucking.”
“I don’t understand.” Maggie was crying and trembling, no longer able to keep her horror and fear in check now she knew there was no chance of reasoning with Lucy.
“Of course you don’t,” Lucy said soothingly, sitting on the edge of the bed and stroking Maggie’s brow. “Why should you? But you’ve been useful, and I’d like to thank you for that. First you gave me somewhere to hide the tapes. I knew they were the only things that might incriminate me other than Terry, and I didn’t think he’d talk. Besides, he’s dead now.”
“What do you mean about the tapes?”
“They were here all along, Maggie. Remember I came to see you that Sunday, before all hell broke loose?”
“Yes.”
“I brought them with me and hid them behind some boxes up in the loft when I went up to the toilet. You’d already told me you never went up there. Don’t you remember?”
Maggie did remember. The loft was an airless, dusty place, she had discovered on her first and only look, which gave her the willies and aggravated her allergies. She must have mentioned it to Lucy when showing her around the house. “Is that why you made friends with me, because you thought I might be useful?”
“I thought I might have need of a friend somewhere down the line, yes, a defender, even. And you were good. Thank you for all you’ve said on my behalf. Thank you for believing in me. I’m not enjoying this, you know. I get no pleasure from killing. It’s a pity it has to end this way.”
“But it doesn’t,” Maggie begged. “Oh, God, please don’t. Just go. I won’t say anything. I promise.”
“Oh, you say that now, now that you’re full of fear of death, but if I go, you won’t feel that way anymore, and you’ll tell the police everything.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
“I wish I could believe you, Maggie, I really do.”
“It’s true.”
Lucy took the belt off her jeans.
“What are you doing?”
“I told you, I’ll be gentle. It’s nothing to be frightened of, just a little pain, then you’ll go to sleep.”
“No!”
Someone banged on the front door. Lucy froze and Maggie held her breath. “Be quiet,” Lucy hissed, putting her hand over Maggie’s mouth. “They’ll go away.”
But the banging continued. Then came a voice. “Maggie! Open up, it’s the police. We know you’re in there. We spoke to your neighbor. She saw you come home. Open up, Maggie. We want to talk to you. It’s very important.”