Tania Carver: The Creeper

‘Shut up, shut up, shut up…’ More slaps, out of control. Her voice strident, pleading.

‘Or was it more than that? Did he have second thoughts, not like what you were doing to her, try to let her go?’

‘No…’

‘Maybe he still liked her?’

‘Stop it…’

Phil picked up the undertone of her words. He knew what had happened. ‘That’s it, isn’t it? He had sex with her. And you didn’t like it, did you?’

She put her hands over her ears.

‘Maybe he liked the power he had over her and forced her, maybe she wanted it too. Doesn’t matter. They did it. And it hurt you. How am I doing?’

Phil laughed. His bitterness almost matched hers. ‘Fiona Welch, homo superior. Jealous of a student and a barmaid…’

Her hands flailed, face contorted. She didn’t know what to do, how to respond. She screamed.

‘And you killed her.’

She looked round, eyes wide, staring, like a trapped animal.

‘No,’ said Phil, putting it together, ‘you didn’t kill her. Or you didn’t mean to. It was an accident. Something done in anger. Nothing to do with proving a point, showing how superior you are. That’s all just justification after the fact, isn’t it? You accidentally killed her then panicked. Messed up her body so we would think there was a sexual sadist on the loose.’

Her hands were back over her ears, eyes screwed tight shut. Tears were running down her face.

‘Isn’t that right?’

She took her hands away. ‘Shut up! Shut up…’

Phil knew he had broken her so, not waiting to see how she would respond, he turned his attention to the figure standing behind Fiona Welch.

‘That you over there, Ian? Or should I call you Wayne?’

A ragged intake of breath that Phil took for surprise.

‘Did she make you do it? Fiona here. Did she make you kill all the women?’

He stepped forward. Phil saw his face in the light for the first time.

And gasped.

It was ruined. Burnt beyond any kind of reconstructive surgery, red and angry, white and dead. His teeth bared like an angry, vengeful skeleton.

Phil focused, kept going. ‘What did she tell you, Ian? How did she get you to do it? Did you know you’d killed your own sister? Did you not recognise her?’

The hulking figure looked between Fiona Welch and Phil. Phil didn’t know what he was thinking because there was so little of face left and what there was couldn’t express emotions. He opened his mouth. And a sound came out that Phil never wanted to hear again. Like the dying of a wounded animal.

He came forward, screaming.

And that was when Suzanne Perry made her move.

‘ It was my job to…’ Mark Turner sighed. ‘To… look after her. I used to come in every day to see that she was all right. That she had something to eat and drink and, and went to the toilet.’

‘Where was this?’

‘In…’ He hesitated, corrected himself. ‘Where she, where we kept them.’

‘So there was just Adele there at this time?’

He shook his head. ‘Julie came to join her soon after.’ ‘Keep going.’

‘And Adele and I… I just saw her there and I… I wanted to…’

‘Help her?’

His voice was tiny, fragile. ‘Love her…’

Mickey struggled to keep his face as straight as possible.

‘And I… I… it built up over a few days. I wanted to say something, let her know it was me, but I…’ He sighed. ‘I couldn’t.’

‘Frightened of what Fiona would say,’ said Marina in Mickey’s ear.

‘One day I built up courage. I knew I was taking a risk but I… I couldn’t help it. When I was getting them out of their, of their… and I was helping her to the toilet I stopped her, spoke to her. Showed her it was me.’

‘And what did she do?’

‘Well, she was… it was… she cried.’

He fell silent for a while. Then continued.

‘And then I… I told her how I felt.’

‘And what did she say?’

‘That she felt the same as me.’

I’ll just bet she did, thought Mickey. Anything to get out. ‘So what did you do?’

‘We… started having sex. And… and plotted.’

‘Her escape?’

He sighed. Nodded.

‘Or both of your escapes?’

Another sigh, heavier this time.

‘And Fiona found you.’

‘Yeah.’ Tears welled again in Turner’s eyes. ‘And she… stopped it.’ He looked away. Looked at anything but Mickey.

But Mickey wasn’t letting it go. ‘Stopped it? How did she stop it, Mark?’

‘She, she…’ The tears fell. ‘Told me that if I didn’t… if I didn’t…’

He couldn’t say the word. Mickey wanted to hear it. Mickey wouldn’t say it for him.

‘If you didn’t what, Mark?’

‘If I didn’t kill her…’ The words blurted out, sprayed like projectile vomit all over the table. ‘Kill her… then Fiona would, would kill me…’

‘So you killed her.’

He nodded, shoulders heaving with his tears.

‘And all the… mutilation?’

Turner grimaced. ‘She did that. Fiona did that. I wouldn’t, couldn’t…’

Mickey waited.

‘She got the Creeper and me to drop off the body, told us where to leave it, how to position it. Said you’d think there was a sex killer on the loose. Then she said…’ Another heavy sigh. ‘Said that I was hers now. Forever.’

Turner said nothing more. Just sat slumped.

Mickey sighed. Mopping up time. ‘She used you, Mark.’

‘No…’ He shook his head.

‘Yes, she did. Just like she used Ian Buchan.’

Turner frowned. ‘Who?’

‘The Creeper. Used you. Kept you under her control. She made the Creeper kidnap his own sister. She used him like she used you.’

‘But we were a partnership…’

‘No you weren’t. You were just like the Creeper to her. Someone to be controlled. Another experiment.’

Turner sighed. And the tears came again.

‘So where are they, Mark? The girls?’

He kept his head down, stared at the table.

‘You may as well tell me, Mark, I know everything else.’

Nothing.

‘Everything. Even the fact that the two quotes you threw at me when I came in here were from Schopenhauer and Nietzsche.’

Turner looked up, shock and surprise in his eyes.

‘Anyone can read a book, Mark. So tell me, where are they?’

Turner sighed, saw that he had nothing else left to hang on to.

‘At the Quay. The old Dock Transit Company building…’

Mickey was straight out of the door.

Suzanne screamed.

It was enough to startle the Creeper, divert his attention away from Phil.

Phil could only watch as Suzanne kept the momentum going. While the others were still staring, she got to her feet, grabbed one of the huge, chained hooks hanging from the runner along the ceiling and swung it towards the other three.

Phil, being on the ground already, didn’t have to duck. The other two did. Fiona Welch ducked to the side but she wasn’t quick enough and the hook swung at her, catching her on the side of the head. She fell, crumpling in a heap.

The Creeper was faster to react. The hook, which, having hit Fiona Welch, slowed its momentum, was much less of a threat by the time it reached him. He put up a great, solid hand, all muscle and gristle, and stopped it, the impact forcing him backwards, air huffing from him.

Phil knew what was coming next, shouted a warning.

‘Get out of the way, Suzanne…’

The Creeper pulled back the hook and, giving a roar of effort as he did so, let it fly towards her.

Phil pushed himself even further into the rusted metal of the walkway as it rattled along the track, gaining speed from the traction as it passed him. Suzanne however, couldn’t move. She just stood there, watching it come towards her.