Alex Barclay - Killing Ways

Joe and Ren locked eyes.

He’s still alive.

Duke managed to turn his head to look at Joe. ‘Would you have told me about Geoff Riggs? Did it kill you that Donnie Riggs was my brother? Turns out I had a good family, Joe. I had a good family. So fuck you.’

Drunkard father. Serial killer brother. So much goodness.

‘I have no idea who your father is,’ said Joe. He shook his head — a lazy, taunting movement. Then he smiled.

Duke frowned. ‘But...’

‘That email Ren was sent?’ said Joe. ‘It was bullshit. It wasn’t from me. It was copied to me, but it was sent from one of the agents right inside this building to stop you wanting to die, to stop your suicide mission. He knew you wouldn’t want to leave this world without saying goodbye to your father, would you? Geoff Riggs was a kind man to you. But that’s all he was. He wasn’t your father. Who knows who your father could have been? Your mother had quite the list. We lost count of the possibilities. Everyone knew someone who knew someone who fucked yo’ mama.’

Ease up, Joe.

Ren watched Duke Rawlins. He was smiling. His head lolled away again.

Why are you still smiling?

‘So, you can die with that mystery,’ said Joe. ‘Who’s. Yo’. Daddy.’

Ren looked at Joe. There was a chilling menace in his face.

Duke used all the strength he had to turn back toward them.

‘Did you get my gift?’ said Duke. He was talking to Joe. ‘The one I gave to The Widow Dettling?’

No, Gary will not die. He will not die, you fucking psychopath.

‘The FedEx slip?’ said Joe. ‘What was I supposed to do with that?’

‘Read it.’

‘I did read it.’

‘What does it say to you?’ said Duke.

‘Nothing,’ said Joe. ‘What’s it meant to say to me? You went through my garbage and stored up that information for years... for what?’

Duke laughed weakly. ‘No, sir. It’s the kind of shit that could give a man nightmares for the rest of his life.’

‘I’m so tired of his bullshit,’ said Joe. ‘It’s over. It’s over now.’

Duke Rawlins was weakening. His eyes were closing. Still, he was smiling.

‘You don’t get it,’ said Duke, staring up at Joe. ‘You still don’t get it.’

‘Get what?’ said Joe.

‘Grace...’ said Duke.

‘She’s gone away,’ said Joe. ‘Grace is safe.’ He looked at Ren, almost rolled his eyes.

‘Safe like Hayley Gray was?’ said Duke. Hayley Gray was the little girl that Donald Riggs killed. ‘Safe like Hayley Gray with a bomb strapped around her waist and a detonator?’

‘There’s no bomb strapped to my daughter — that, I know for sure,’ said Joe. ‘She is thousands of miles away and only I know where.’

Your confidence is so complete. You know Grace is safe. You know it. Why is the energy in the room unchanged? Why do I still think Duke Rawlins is holding all the cards?

‘I’m the bomb!’ said Duke. ‘You don’t get it! I’m the bomb!’ With the last of his strength, his head was now rocking from side to side, smiling wider, blood smeared across his teeth and gums.

This guy is absolutely unhinged.

‘I’m the bomb!’ said Duke. ‘And I am right there with Grace wherever she goes. I’m the bomb! I’m the bomb!’

Ren and Joe locked eyes, confused, disturbed.

‘You still don’t get it!’ said Duke. ‘I got Grace, Grace got me. Got me running through her veins!’ He stopped his crazy rocking, stopped dead. His eyes burned into Joe Lucchesi.

‘I’m the daddy,’ said Duke. ‘I’m the daddy! I fucked your wife! Lucky number seven years ago. I drugged her. I fucked her. I cleaned her up. I lay her down gently on the sofa where she spent most of her time anyway. I drugged her. I fucked her. And I gave her a baby. What are the fucking chances of that? I gave her Grace. I gave your wife Grace. Now, isn’t that something?’

Oh.

Dear.

God.

Joe Lucchesi’s face had transformed in such a powerful way, it cut short even Duke Rawlins’ laughter.

This is beyond thinking about. This is beyond all levels of depravity.

Ren and Joe locked eyes.

What are you thinking? How are you thinking?

Ren’s heart pounded.

You want to kill this man. I want to see him rot in jail.

Joe’s face was desolate, his eyes empty. A nothing-to-lose air radiated from him.

Duke Rawlins is ready to die now. He wants to die.

You want to kill him. I want to see him rot in jail.

Ren looked at Duke. His shaven head was slick with sweat.

WantED. WantED to see him rot in jail.

Now? Now I want to kill this man.

She stared at Joe.

I want to kill this man for the lifelong pain he has caused you. You were a good man. You are a good man. What justice brought Duke Rawlins into your life?

Duke Rawlins was looking around, he was smiling wide, but he couldn’t hide the fear that was sparking in his eyes. He kept smiling, though, and the smile broadened. He began laughing again, harder, louder, with depthless cruelty.

That was not fear in your eyes; it was relish. You are getting an even better reaction than you expected. You have run this moment through your head a million times. And the moment is here. This is everything to you. There was no fear. Of course there wasn’t. There was, simply, joy.

There was a palpable change in the air, a thickening, a dense, choking, smoking hell.

‘In my own way,’ said Duke, drawing out the words, ‘I guess I killed your wife. I did it. In my own way, I finished her off with all that scar tissue I left her. Guess I really am the gift that keeps on giving. The gift I always promised you I would be.’ He rolled his head to the side and spat out blood.

Ren looked up at Joe.

What are you going to do? What are you going to say?

Joe muttered something. Ren waited. He muttered again. She strained to hear.

‘Liar,’ said Joe a little louder. ‘Liar. You’re a fucking liar!’

Duke Rawlins shook his head slowly. ‘I’m not! I mean, I couldn’t have planned for the baby, that was a... happy accident! Soon as I saw Grace walking, though, I knew. She couldn’t have been more than two years old, in that park near your house. I saw it — she had the same skinny bow legs I had, got passed down by my mama. Didn’t you even wonder about her hair? I mean—’

‘You fucking liar!’ said Joe. ‘You liar.’

‘No!’ said Duke. ‘No! I caught it all on video. There’s a date on it and everything. Like the FedEx slip I took while I was there. You’ll see — that’ll about match up to nine months before Grace was born. And yes. There’s video evidence.’ He checked his watch. ‘The matinee should be starting right about now.’

Shaun Lucchesi was staring at his laptop. He had pressed play on the emailed video, but the screen was still black. He waited. He recognized the steps up to their old house in Bay Ridge. The door was green like it used to be. This looked like an old video. Was this some kind of joke from one of his friends? Was someone about to egg the house or something? He could see the camera move onto the front door of the house, then slide across to the front-room window. He could see the shadow of his mom moving about behind the gauzy curtains. His heart lurched at the sight of his mother. He missed her.

Then he was watching the side of the house, the air vent that went into the living room. He could see a hand doing something there, holding something up, letting it waft in through the vent. The camera was back on the window. Shaun could see the blurred form of his mother slump to the floor. He could hear footsteps as the person holding the camera walked up to the front door. He could hear keys jangling. Whoever was filming took the keys and shook them in front of the screen. It was a man’s hand. Shaun recognized his own key ring, remembered losing his keys and his fake ID on a night out in a bar. The man unlocked the front door. Shaun’s heart pounded as the man made his way into the living room. He crouched down beside his mother. He rolled her over onto her back. She was passed out, looked almost lifeless, there was no effort required to move her. The man started to push up her skirt. Shaun slammed the laptop shut.