‘Did they find a picture of the next victim on her?’ he inquired. He hated the word ‘victim’ because it implied they were innocent in all of this. In his eyes they were volunteers, as they had offered him their telephone numbers when they chatted on dating apps; they’d made themselves too available and there were consequences in doing so. None of them had Matches; they were all seen as second-class citizens, pitied by those who had found true love.
But it was a win-win situation for all involved – when this was over, he’d be happy with his continued anonymity while the ‘victims’, as Amy called them, would be rewarded by being part of a case that would go down in British criminal history. They’d become the subjects of books, featured in TV documentaries and dramas, and the case would be theorised for decades. They’d have accomplished so much more in their deaths than they ever could have hoped to in their pedestrian lives.
‘Yes, there was another photo,’ Amy replied, and took a seat at the dining room table, propping her head up with her hands. ‘It’s pretty much a certainty she’s dead, of course, but there’s no indication of where the body could be. We’re now playing the waiting game, hoping that somebody’s going to spot a stencil painted on the pavement.’
‘Why can’t you release her photo to the media?’
‘Because none of the newspapers or television channels will show the face of what’s probably a dead girl. Thankfully the Internet doesn’t have such high moral standards and every victim is now online. We’ve done an artist’s impression of the latest girl for the papers and TV, so maybe that’ll speed things up.’
The spray-painted stencils left by Christopher had certainly captured the public’s imagination, he realised. He had reached Number Five before the police had linked them, but in making it public, there’d been a smattering of copycat paintings around the capital.
Investigators had yet to connect all the women with the same dating app, UFlirt. It was an off-shoot of Match Your DNA, designed for those who’d yet to find a Match to meet others in the same, lonely boat. Back when he was making long and shortlists, Christopher experimented with other apps and found some of the girls were registered there too, so maybe it was too difficult for the police to narrow it down to one common link.
Even when the police examined their phones, they would find no link to Christopher among their messages. He had created more than one hundred email addresses, assigned to dozens of untraceable burner smartphones, hidden away in a disused freezer in his basement.
He’d used software downloaded from the dark web to keep tabs on their texts, photographs, social media, cloud storage devices and GPS locations, but he had never spoken to them again. It seemed incredible to him that people were stupid enough to store their entire lives on five inches of plastic for anyone to poke about in.
‘I just don’t think I’ll ever understand it,’ said Amy. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever get my head around why someone could be compelled to take so many lives. What’s the point?’
For the challenge, Christopher thought to himself. For the fun of it. For the history books. For having the balls and ambition to decide to be a serial killer rather than fall into it or be compelled to do it. To actively choose this life and then to actively stop it. Because nobody has ever done it like this before. And because there’s no other feeling quite like being in control of someone else’s life.
‘I don’t know,’ he instead replied, and thought it best to comfort her again. He stood behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, bringing her towards him. ‘Maybe it’s because he simply can,’ he added, kissing the top of her head. ‘So he does.’
Amy clung to the security of her boyfriend’s strong, warm arms for a moment as he remained behind her, wishing he could have seen the expression on her face when she first saw a photo of what he was capable of. Even he might have identified what revulsion looked like.
Chapter 38
JADE
Jade was awake for much of her first night in Australia and not just because of the jetlag.
Coming to terms with the news of Kevin’s terminal illness and the realisation that she didn’t love him had left her bewildered; angry at him and even more angry at herself.
In the quietness of the farm’s guest house, she turned on the bedside lamp and logged on to the Wi-Fi to research whether this was normal – not feeling anything for her Match. She knew there was a love between them but she hadn’t experienced the deafening, booming, colourful fireworks or rainbows that the films and TV programmes she’d watched depicted. Fictional couples with a DNA Match always fell hook, line and sinker for one another the instant they came into contact. Why wasn’t it happening to her?
She checked the official Match Your DNA website: ‘The emotions felt between two Matches can vary from couple to couple,’ it read. ‘For some, it happens in an instant; for others, it can take several meetings or several days before the connection is made. This can sometimes be due to the mental capacity of a couple or an individual, or an illness, which can affect the production of pheromones and receptors. A change in a Match’s body clock can also affect the way they process their emotions.’
Jade began to feel a little better about herself knowing her predicament wasn’t uncommon. She’d begun to worry it was Kevin’s condition and how little he resembled the photos that were delaying her feelings, and the fact that she was a shallow, superficial cow. Now armed with new knowledge, she felt much more relieved. It would happen, she just had to wait for it. Although in the long run, she acknowledged that it would be hard being head over heels in love with a man who wouldn’t see out the summer.
Suddenly there came a gentle knocking on her door. ‘Come in,’ she replied and propped herself up on her elbows. The door slowly opened and Kevin’s smiling face appeared.
‘Hey,’ he said. ‘I saw your light was still on. Do you want to come and see something?’
‘Sure,’ she said. The clock on the wall read 3.56am.
‘I’ll meet you by your car in fifteen minutes. Bring a jumper. Early mornings are cold as ice out here. Oh, and your keys, of course.’
Kevin was already standing by the car and leaning against his walking frame when Jade appeared. ‘Let’s go,’ he said chirpily.
He directed them as she drove along the dirt track driveway and back onto the highway. They travelled for around ten minutes until they reached a flat region by the side of the road.
‘You can’t come to Australia without seeing the sun rise,’ Kevin said. ‘It’s like nothing on earth.’
They sat together, listening to a playlist of soul classics as the darkness gradually lifted and was replaced by a purple and orange hew.
‘How often do you come out here?’ she asked.
‘Quite a lot when I was first diagnosed,’ he said. ‘Then I went into a dark place for a while. I was angry at everything, especially thinking that everyone else would have a lifetime of sunrises and sunsets, while mine were limited. Then I began to understand that being here to see any sunrise was a major accomplishment. It means I’ve lived for one more day.’
Jade instinctively placed her head on Kevin’s shoulder, where it remained until the sun rose and he’d long drifted off to sleep. His hand was cold, his skin parchment-like and she wondered how he might have felt to the touch before cancer started eating away at him.
While the intense Match Your DNA love was still undoubtedly missing, there was no doubt that she felt relaxed around him. They’d shared so many intense conversations by phone that she’d come to see him as a best friend as well as her Match. Maybe that was more important than anything else, she thought. Maybe when you took it back to basics, that’s what love really was: just being there for someone when the sun rises and sets.