The Ultimate Selection: Be Careful Who You Talk To (6 page)

***

Greg found himself consumed with Brian, Sharon and their baby. Greg had thought that there must be questions that he still needed to find answers to, though at the moment he was unable to think of any.

Greg's plan was to gain entry into the house when Brian was not at home. He knew that Brian went to the pub every night and did not get back until midnight. So Greg had decided that he would get to Brian's house at around ten o'clock and simply knock the front door. As Sharon opened the front door, Greg would barge his way in.

Greg had made a mental note that the front door did not have a spy-hole so there was no way that Sharon could see who was outside without opening the door. Greg knew that before then, he would have to visit the house to have a look at the local layout. He would need to make a detailed escape route in order to make his departure without being noticed.

He would also need to think of a way to overpower Sharon very quickly, and with the minimum of commotion. He decided on using a tactic that has been used many times by the police. He would simply go for a surprise attack, using his strength to force her back in to the house. The surprise element would be enough to get the fear factor he wanted. Deciding where to hold both Sharon and the baby until Brian got home from the pub was another quandary. He thought that playing this by ear was the best tactic. Then he would need to overpower and control Brian; brute force would be the way. Once Greg had achieved all this, he would then have to force Sharon to kill Brian. ‘That,' Greg thought, ‘would be the easy part.' He would simply place Sharon in a predicament. If she did not kill Brian, the consequences would outweigh the alternative. The path was already laid out for her – not for her, for her baby. Her maternal instincts would ensure that she put her baby first.

Greg had not planned further than that. He knew that he would have to see how events went and adapt.

His getaway plan was simple: to slip away into the shadows.

Greg did not plan on killing anyone. Both Sharon and the baby would be left alive. It would take Sharon a considerable amount of time before she mentally returned back to normal. Her mind would not be able to concentrate in a rational manner. Her focus would be lost – though her maternal instincts, along with her newfound ability for survival, would suck her back to reality. What she would do then would be any one's guess.

Greg did not intend to kill any of his victims. His victims would kill each other and there had to be survivors. It would be the survivors who would be the common link between Greg and the authorities. He needed to be careful. It would be those survivors who committed the murders, not Greg. With the lack of evidence, along with an almost invisible trail, the link between Greg, the survivors and their victims would be untraceable. Greg would need to remain anonymous.

His anonymity would always be intact – the costume and mask would ensure that his features were never revealed. Once in character, his voice would be that of his alter ego, as if the two people within him had come from completely different back grounds.

Greg thought that, in this case, the young baby would have a better start in life if its mother and father had no input in its upbringing. The father would be deceased and the mother would be safely locked away, at Her Majesty's Pleasure.

If the child were raised by either, or both, parents the child would end up a clone-like version of them. All the bad, inbred antisocial behaviour, neglect and turbulence would continue to fester and the cycle would continue. The poor child would not have a chance to integrate with modern society. After all, we do not choose our parents, they chose us. We have to work and make the best hand from the cards we are dealt. If we are dealt a bum hand, why not fold and demand a re-deal?

Chapter Six

Greg's mobile phone bleeped.

‘Who's texting me now?' he thought. It was Karen.

Please meet me outside the pub. K. XXX

Greg thought that was a silly text as he would have expected to meet Karen outside the pub. But, knowing Karen as he did, he decided it would be better if he let her know that he was already planning to wait for her outside the tube station. He sent her a reply informing her of his plans.

His thoughts went back to Sharon, Brian and their baby. He couldn't get them out of his mind. He thought that the whole ordeal would have to be controlled by him even down to how long it would take from start to finish. Time, though, was on his side.

Brian would get home at around midnight; Greg would have to work fast to ensure everything was in place for his return. Though not too fast, otherwise Brian would not be truly sorry. Once Brian had returned home, it would be Sharon who would need to take control – she would be Brian's executioner. That was if she had the nerve. It was a gamble, but Greg knew what she would do.

Brian would need to suffer maximum discomfort along with excruciating pain before he died. Brian needed to understand why this punishment was being dealt to him, why it was in this way and why the mother of his child was his killer. There had to be a purpose to it all.

When Sharon was later questioned by the police, she would have to explain why a complete stranger had forced his way into their house and forced Sharon to kill the father of her child. The fate of both Sharon and the child was in the hands of the authorities. Greg would need to make Sharon understand all of this, before Brian's imminent demise.

Greg glanced at the watch on his wrist and realized that it was time he started to make himself something to eat before having a shower and meeting Karen. He had not given any thought as to what to wear. He had not done any ironing for nearly a week now and the heap of creased clothes was piling up.

Greg decided that he would find the easiest things to iron. It was not as if he needed to impress Karen, after all they had done this once before and Greg was not going to let Karen come on all heavy. It was just a casual sexual relationship and Greg was going to let Karen know that, though in his own subtle way.

Chapter Seven

Greg was already outside the tube station when Karen arrived.

She had the look on her face that suggested that she had got the cream and was not sure if what was happening was real – it all seemed real enough. Greg was there, looking as dapper and as handsome as he always had done, in Karen's eyes anyway.

‘You're eager,' Karen said, as she approached her date.

‘No, Karen, you're normally late!'

Greg took Karen's hand, leading the way, as they both made a beeline across the busy main road, dodging the oncoming traffic.

Kingsbury was busy, bustling like the rest of the outskirts of the capital. Most pubs, clubs and restaurants centred around the busy tube station. Kingsbury Road served as the main thoroughfare through the town.

The Broadway Public House sat almost opposite the busy tube station. Situated next door to an impressive multiplex cinema, which boasted twelve separate screens. As the couple arrived outside their destination, Karen looked at Greg, readying herself to say something.

‘Let's get inside. It's too noisy out here!' Greg said, whilst he opened the door to the public bar.

As they walked towards the bar, Greg nudged Karen.

‘What are you drinking?'

‘White wine, please.'

‘OK, small or large?'

‘Large of course,' Karen smiled.

As they reached the bar, after navigating their way through the bustling crowed – Greg started to wave a twenty pound note in the air in order to attract the attention of one of the bar staff – it worked.

‘Yes, mate,' one of the barmen asked.

Greg ordered a couple of drinks, paid the barman, then turned to face Karen.

‘Shall we find a table and sit down?' Karen asked feeling a little enclosed, the bar area was crowded, with no elbow room.

‘Yeah, good idea.'

Greg followed Karen to a table situated in the corner of the bar. They sat down.

‘I want us to lay down some foundations Karen,' Greg said, as the pair sat.

Karen gave a puzzled look, though did not answer.

‘I want to take it slow… I don't want anything heavy… No repeat of where we went wrong… Am I making sense? Bloody hell, this is hard!' Greg took a gulp a beer.

‘Why complicate things, Greg. Let's take it a day at a time. I know that I smothered you, and that was why you finished with me.'

‘You…' Greg tried.

‘Hold on a moment. If you want something casual, that's cool. But, if we are going to be shag-buddies, then you only shag me, and I only shag you. I don't want you shagging any other birds, is that clear? They'll be no bed-hopping Greg! I don't want you giving me an STD or anything else for that matter.'

Greg was shocked. It was as though she had read his mind.

‘That's exactly what I want. Not the bed-hopping, I just don't want us living in each other's pockets. It's not as if we own each other, but we aren't having an open relationship either.'

‘So you want a casual relationship without the strings or the infidelity?'

‘Yeah, that's exactly what I want, if that makes sense?'

‘To me it does – as long as we understand each other.'

They both chinked their glasses and kissed. The pair enjoyed talking about everything and nothing. As the conversation deepened, Greg and Karen completely lost track of time, forgetting if either of them may have wanted to go on to another pub – the area was awash with quaint establishments. The little bubble they had been locked in burst when the barman rang the bell for last orders.

‘Do you want another one for the road?' Greg asked Karen.

‘No thanks. But you go ahead if you want one.'

‘Nah, I won't have another on my own,' he smiled, ‘I've had enough to drink for one night.'

There was a pause, an uncomfortable silence. Someone had to ask the question. Greg decided that as he was the man, it had better be him.

‘Do you fancy coming back to mine?'

‘OK,' Karen replied. ‘I suppose we'd better consummate our shag-buddy type of relationship,' she said giggling with a sheepish smile.

They stood up, left the pub and headed for the tube station, hand in hand.

‘Are you hungry?' Greg asked.

‘No, I'm fine, are you?'

‘Nah, I thought I'd be a gentleman, that's all.'

‘What, and offer me a kebab?' Karen laughed.

‘They sell burgers too,' Greg replied, joining her laughter.

They continued their journey to the tube station and boarded the train that was already waiting at the platform. During the short journey, they both sat close to one another in silence, arms wrapped firmly, kissing at intervals. No need for conversation.

As the train stopped at Wembley Park Tube Station, Greg waited for Karen to step out of the carriage first. He followed her closely, eyeing up her firm buttocks.

The walk from the tube station to Greg's flat would normally take approximately ten minutes. Though they were not in any particular hurry.

‘It could be worse,' Karen said.

‘What? It could be raining!' Greg replied, patting Karen's bottom.

‘No,' Karen smiled. ‘It could be snowing,' she replied, patting Greg on his bottom.

The pair continued walking down Bridge Road, the long hill from the station made the walk pleasurable. Navigating their way across the main road, they arrived at the entrance to Greg's flat.

Walking through a gap between two high walls where a gate used to be, they followed a path that led to the main communal doors. It was covered by security cameras – although they had never worked and were mainly there as a deterrent. At least the intercom worked.

Using his key, Greg opened the main door and pressed the energy-saving timer switch with his elbow whilst he held the door with his other hand.

‘Forever the gentleman,' Karen commented, giving a squeaky giggle.

‘Some things never change,' Greg smiled.

‘The same can be said for people,' Karen quipped.

‘People change, it's only to what degree,' Greg smirked.

Once the pair had reached the front door to Greg's flat, they paused.

‘You don't have to stay. It's not…' Greg began.

‘I'm here and I do want to stay and, yes, I know it's not too late to change my mind.' Karen kissed Greg on his lips. ‘Second time round so it's not unchartered territory for either of us, is it?'

‘Like we agreed, one day at a time.'

Greg inserted his key into the lock, turned it clockwise and pushed. The door opened; Greg paused, allowing Karen to walk in.

‘I don't think the old place has changed too much?' Greg said, closing the door behind him using his right heel.

Karen had already switched on a couple of lamps in Greg's living room and sat down before he joined her.

‘What would you like to drink?' Greg asked, smiling at Karen.

‘Nothing. Take me to bed and have your wicked way.'

Karen stood and waited for her man to approach – her heart raced, pumping faster and faster.

Greg could feel his manhood swelling, his heart beating louder than a bass drum. They met half way across the living room and began to kiss passionately. Greg gently took Karen's hand and led her into his bedroom. She had been here before. Privately, she remembered the first time – she shivered like a nervous twig, afraid and excited by what he might do. These were joyous memories, memories of finding womanhood, finding her inner-self.

Once they entered the bedroom, they paused and looked at each other, admiring the view.

‘Kiss me,' Karen commanded, in a soft tone.

They kissed with tremendous passion, undressing each other as though the stop watch was ticking. They fell on the bed and made love.

Chapter Eight

The sound of the radio woke Karen from a restful sleep.

‘Good morning. Did you sleep well?' Greg politely enquired.

‘Yes, I did – did you?'

‘Not bad. I forgot you snore though,' Greg laughed.

‘No I don't, you cheeky sod. Where's my tea?' Karen snarled, giving Greg a playful slap across his back.

‘On its way, would you like any breakfast?'

‘Nah, just tea please. Thanks for last night Greg – no regrets?'

‘Not a single one. I'd forgotten how good I was,' he tried to lighten the subject and redirect it.

‘Oh that… I'd forgotten about that. It doesn't stick in my memory,' she laughed.

‘Ha, ha, you're not funny. What are your plans for today?' Greg had plans of his own, and time was of the essence.

‘I had forgotten how comfortable your bed was, nothing else.' Her laughter had now diluted to a big smile. ‘I'm going to take my mum out for some lunch.'

‘That must involve some form of shopping, knowing your mum.'

‘No, she's going to the cemetery first. So I'm going to meet up with her.'

‘How long is it now?'

‘It still feels like it was yesterday, the way Mum carries on.'

‘I didn't mean it like that. I was only asking…'

‘Oh sorry… I know. It just gets too much.'

‘Hey, let's forget I asked. Now shut up and drink your tea.' Greg tried to lift the conversation by sending a wink Karen's way.

Karen responded by sticking her tongue out then winking back at him. They took turns using the shower, Greg shaving whilst Karen showered. When they were both ready to face the outside world, Greg kissed Karen.

‘See you soon,' Greg smiled.

‘OK. Thanks again stud. I had a great night!'

‘Go on then, you'd better piss off,' he said whilst her gave her a kiss on the lips.

Karen gave Greg a knowing look – the kind of look that confirmed she was at ease with things.

The door closed and she was gone.

Greg concentrated on doing his normal Sunday morning domestic chores and then he spent the whole of Sunday afternoon on the internet. He had found a website that allowed you to download aerial maps of whatever area you wanted. This would prove to be invaluable, as he would be able to plot his getaway route.

Greg's mobile bleeped. It was a text message from Karen:

Thanx Pee Wee xx

He laughed. Deciding not to reply and returned to his work.

Greg needed to set up some kind of timeframe. He had thought about this quite a lot. Though he would not be wearing a watch, he would still need to keep it militarized. It was a time governed exercise.

Greg was astonished when he glanced at the clock. He had been sitting there for hours. He could not understand where the time had gone. It had flown by. He quickly set about choosing what he was having for dinner. Lunch had passed without notice. He put two large potatoes in the oven and decided to have another shower to clear his head. He needed to think of a way to commit his first crime and be sure that his alibi was completely watertight. He could not think of anything else.

‘That's it,' he said to himself whilst looking at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, ‘I'll invite Karen over for dinner, slip some sleeping pills in her food and Bob's your uncle!'

He decided that he would have Karen stay over for the night. That way, he could drug her and have enough time to slip out, put his plan in to action and return home. If questioned, Karen would swear blind that he had been with her all night.

‘You're a genius, and handsome too,' he told himself.

Karen was a deviation from the original plan. Now he was seeing Karen, a few things would have to change. Progress dictates change.

Greg had also decided, during doing his internet research, that he was going to get most of the tools he needed from eBay. By doing this he could cover his tracks. There were account settings where he could keep his purchases private – allowing him to bid anonymously.

***

During the following weeks that passed, it appeared to the outside world as everything was normal but, behind the scenes, things were ticking along nicely for Greg. He had obtained a number of necessary items and also been able to do a few dummy runs and accurately time them. Everything was now in place, he felt ready. He was ready.

He thought about the French serial killer and tried to imagine how he felt. Greg knew his crimes were premeditated but the Frenchman's had not started that way. Greg imagined himself as nomadic; a truly individual vigilante. He tried to think and cover every angle, every eventuality that he thought might happen.

‘Not long now,' he told himself, as he looked at his masked reflection in the mirror.