Persona - A Disturbing Psychological Thriller (17 page)

Tash sat back. ‘Your man’s got a temper on him, all right.’

Jenny gazed into Tash’s eyes. ‘But only when he’s provoked.’

Tash grinned. ‘So it depends what provokes him!’

25

Andre wore a chequered cap and a waterproof coat that stopped at his thighs. He walked to the door. The air was moist, but it hadn’t rained. He expected a shower by the time he left. It was a peaceful night. A couple of druggies had been lurking in the alleys and the occasional car had passed him, but that was all. He hadn’t been followed. Possibly observed - there were positions where a man could have concealed himself, especially in the park in front of the house, with its thick bushes and trees, but Andre’s clothing would have obscured his features. He rang the bell. This was his first opportunity to visit Jen, almost three weeks after his meeting with John-Paul.

After studying him through the spy-hole, John-Paul answered. As the door swung open, Andre noticed the marks on John-Paul’s neck and offered his hand. John-Paul shook it and Andre entered. He said nothing until the door closed behind him.

‘Where’s Jen?’

‘Upstairs. Andre, there was an incident. She’s in a bad way.’

Andre glanced at John-Paul’s neck again. ‘Let’s go and see her.’

Jen was curled up on top of her duvet, which had hundreds of white feathers sketched on it. Her hands were squeezed between her thighs in a praying position and Andre noticed scratch marks on the side of her face. She wore a crumpled white nightdress and her golden hair was draped over her shoulders in thick clumps of sweaty strands. She didn’t acknowledge them when they stood in front of her, preferring to stare at the floor. Andre checked that the window blind was drawn.

‘Jen, this is Andre,’ John-Paul told her. ‘He’ll help us.’

Jen remained still. ‘Can he see the invisible?’ she muttered.

John-Paul glanced up at Andre. ‘Well, I don’t know. Why don’t you sit up and talk to him. We arranged this, remember?’

‘Can you see his neck?’ she asked, and without looking up slowly lifted a trembling finger and pointed to somewhere in the middle of the room. Andre noticed deep lacerations on the bottom of her fingers. ‘I did that.’

‘Don’t be stup-’

‘How did you do that, Jen?’ Andre asked her.

‘I hung him from a branch.’ Her words were broken. Head bowed, she wept.

‘Was Zen there?’

‘Course he was fucking there!’ she snapped. She looked up at Andre with a resentment that soon sagged into sadness. ‘You think I’d do it? I love John-Paul… I love him so much.’ She buried her head in the sheets.

‘Why did you say you strangled him?’

‘Because it’s punishment.’

‘Why doesn’t Zen punish you?’

She flicked her head up. ‘He
is
punishing me, you thick piece of shit! How d’you think I feel? How d’you think
I
feel inside?’ She pointed at John-Paul’s scar and tears trickled down her cheeks. ‘I’m responsible for that! I’m to blame!’

‘Jen, it’s not your fault!’ John-Paul cried.

‘You’re letting him win, Jen,’ Andre said bluntly. ‘You must sit up and talk to me calmly or you’ll be responsible for John-Paul’s death.’

‘What can I do?’ she pleaded. ‘What can anyone do? You know nothing! You come here smug and self-assured, but you’re insignificant! He’ll kill you and he’s going to kill me!’ She grabbed her covers and pulled them over her head as she twisted away from him.

Andre interlocked his fingers behind his head, and looked above her at a poster of David Gray. All this intrigued him. Zen had tortured Jen to the extent that she was paranoid and on the brink of a nervous breakdown. He turned, walked to the other side of the room and stared with purpose at the wall, which was papered in soft, pink woodchip.

‘You haven’t told me everything.’ He turned to John-Paul, who promptly looked away. ‘Five years ago the family try to kill him ’cause the police failed. This time you want to leave it to the police again?’

‘We tried to kill him this time, too,’ John-Paul announced guiltily. ‘We hired someone. He failed.’ Andre’s reaction was just a nod. John-Paul stepped forwards. ‘I trust you Andre. He’s driven us to do this. Look what he’s done to us. No one had beaten me before. How would that make you feel?’

‘It won’t happen to me.’

‘I had the same self-assurance.’

‘But not the same experience, ability or lucidity. Twice you approached him; twice you could’ve gone in mob-handed and overpowered him.’

John-Paul shook his head. ‘No. No. It’s not that simple. He’s not stupid. He planned it. He challenged my masculinity. He knew I’d take the bait.’ He glanced at Jen, and covered his eyes briefly. ‘If I’d brought the cavalry, he wouldn’t have waited around.’

‘Is this contract-killer dead?’

John-Paul looked at his feet and whispered, ‘Yes.’

‘Did Zen use a gun?’

‘I presume so.’

‘You don’t know. ‘He looked at Jen and then at John-Paul. ‘You made the right decision. He’s better off dead.’ John-Paul gawked at him. ‘The man’s been doing this for a decade; you think he’ll stop after a prison stint?’

‘Well, no.’

‘If you could pin the hit man murder on him then maybe he’d do long enough, but use that and you do time too.’ Andre filled the silence. ‘This is no longer a police matter. And Zen’s known that since he was lying battered in the woods.’ He lifted his head. ‘I think you should make the same decision. I think we should kill him.’

John-Paul nodded firmly. ‘Do you know someone who can do it?’

‘I can do it.’

‘You’ll kill him?’

Andre removed his cap and held it in both hands. ‘Trust isn’t an issue here.’

‘No, it’s not.’

‘I was talking to myself.’ Andre turned away from them. This appeared to be a worthwhile task. Zen had killed at least one person, so he had the experience and taste for blood. That offered a challenge. Andre would need more from her before he’d decide to take the job, and a lot more before he’d be fully prepared to hunt his prey, but he was excited. It seemed like he’d be put to full use. It would be Zen or him.

But there was a risk that his employer might confess. People were weak. Even if they suffered all their lives because of one man, most still felt guilt after they engineered his death. Sometimes it was instant, sometimes delayed, but guilt could only be relieved through disclosure. He would pay close attention to Jen. He knew she was distraught, but was it enough to immunise her to any future guilt? Did she hate Zen enough to feel a lifetime’s relief from his death? Did she desire this so much that she could guarantee Andre that she’d keep silent forever? These were questions he’d ask himself after he’d spoken with her. He stretched his neck for a few seconds, then walked up to her and lifted the covers.

‘I can kill Zen, Jen.’ He let the words sink in. ‘I’m a professional. I can find him. I’ve done it before.’

Jen laughed an empty laugh. ‘And once you’ve found him, he’ll kill you.’

Andre wheeled out a chair from beneath a computer desk, sat down and faced her. He placed his cap on the floor, then reached out and placed his hand on her shoulder. She was shaking. ‘Look at me, Jen.’

‘Fucking formalities,’ she sighed, rolling her eyes upwards as she lifted her head to stare indifferently at him. ‘What makes you so special? What makes you capable?’

‘I’ve got the experience, the motivation and the understanding.’

‘Understanding?’

‘You can’t kill someone like him unless you can understand him. How he thinks and functions. I can get inside his mind.’

‘Really,’ she exclaimed sceptically. ‘I’ve seen you in the movies.’

Andre smiled at her. ‘A sense of humour. That’s good. Don’t lose it.’

‘Are you taking the piss? D’you really think I find this funny?’

‘No. I just want you to get a grip of yourself and be serious. The longer you fuck about, the longer he’s out there planning his next move. Maybe he’s planned it already and he’s waiting for John-Paul to walk into his trap.’

She lashed out at him, hitting him in the chest. He didn’t flinch. ‘You think this helps me?’ she asked, beginning to cry. ‘Don’t you think this is bad enough without you making it worse?’

Andre spoke emotionlessly. ‘You can’t hide from this. You have to face up to it. The sooner you cooperate with me, the sooner Zen dies. It’s simple. You’re delaying progress and increasing pain.’

She looked at him. He looked mean and cold. He looked like a killer. She could imagine him sticking a knife in someone’s side and remaining impartial, maintaining that stone-cold, empty expression. She could tell he didn’t care about anyone – there was no emotion in his features or his tone. She felt a glimmer of hope - that was what they needed. Maybe he could do it. Maybe.

What worried her was that the more Zen crushed her hope, the more she despaired. He wanted them to hire Andre. He wanted her to respond to him in this way – it confirmed his impact. It equipped him with ammunition. When she hoped, she hurt. That was the cycle. She would never feel safe until Zen was dead. She must deny herself hope until that happened. She looked at Andre. He was enormous. Maybe he could kill Zen. It was possible, but it meant nothing to her. He was right when he said her pain was increasing. If she resisted hope, then it could do no harm to employ him.

‘We don’t pay until Zen is dead.’

‘Honey, we have to go by Andre’s-’

‘No, John-Paul,’ she interrupted. ‘It’s probable that Zen will kill him. We won’t get the money back.’

‘If I decide to take this on,’ Andre said, ‘then I accept that condition.’

‘Why wouldn’t you take it on? Are you getting scared of Zen?’

‘No, I’m getting tired of your childish attitude. If you grow up and act like an adult then I might think about it.’

She stared into Andre’s grey eyes. ‘What have you done?’

‘I’m forty years old and single. I saw combat in the Falklands and the Gulf. I’ve been a police officer for ten years – joined in ’91.’

‘How many people have you killed?’

‘Including war?’

‘No, I heard the Argentineans were poor soldiers.’

‘I agree, but they outnumbered us by three to one. To answer your question, three.’

‘Are you fit? I can see you’re strong, but Zen’s in shape.’

‘I told you I’m experienced, which means I know what shape I need to be in. I told you I’m motivated to do it. You’ve asked enough questions. I need to know answers.’

‘All right,’ she nodded and looked at John-Paul. ‘I need privacy,’ she told him.

‘I know,’ he responded. He left the room, closing the door behind him.

26

Jenny and Tash browsed the wine aisle in Tesco. It was Friday night and they were purchasing the alcohol as Ben wouldn’t be home from work till seven.

‘What d’you drink?’ Tash asked.

‘I know nothing about wine. White’s served chilled and red isn’t; that’s it.’

‘Ah, no bother.’ Jenny noticed a couple of guys check her out and then Tash. She was used to being stared at, but Tash was getting more attention, probably because of the knee-high boots, fishnets and clingfilm-tight top. Tash caught the eye of one of them and blew a kiss. The bloke smiled back awkwardly and walked away. Jenny was incredulous.

‘Tash, you’re with Geoff!’

‘We have an open relationship.’ She winked at Jenny. ‘He shags other girls.’

‘And you’re happy with that?’

Tash grinned. ‘There’s no such thing as a faithful bloke. I realised that a long time ago. Rather be with him than without. He’s hot in bed.’

Jenny felt a little bit disoriented. Tash held a bottle of Chardonnay in front of her. ‘Think this’ll do?’

‘Erm, yes, I suppose so.’ Surely Ben wouldn’t cheat? ‘I hope Ben won’t do that.’ Her voice was weak.

Tash laughed. ‘Jenny, love, he’s a bloke. You’re gorgeous, but blokes are like kids – they like new toys.’

Jenny stood rigid. ‘I think you’re wrong, Tash.’

Tash looked at her and noticed how upset she looked. She rubbed Jenny’s arm and saw her eyes well up. ‘Ah, I’m sorry, sweetie. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m a doormat. Ben seems serious about you, so it should be fine.’

‘Has he cheated on me?’

Tash laughed. ‘No, no, no, of course not. Don’t be so worried. Believe me, worry is a waste of time.’

Jenny nodded. ‘He wouldn’t do that to me.’

‘I think you’re right.’ Tash smiled warmly. ‘Let’s load up.’