Jason Bell was the DT Killer.
The thought was so loud in Pip’s head, louder than the terror. But she didn’t have time to think it again.
Jason bent down and grabbed her elbow. Pip recoiled, smelling the metallic tang of his sweat staining the front of his shirt. She tried to swing her legs out to kick him away, but Jason must have read the thought in her eyes. He leaned down hard on her knees, pinning her legs there. With his other hand, he pulled her up to sitting.
Pip screamed, the sound of it stifled against the tape. Someone must hear her. Someone must be able to hear her.
‘No one can hear you,’ Jason said then, as though he were right there too, implanted in her head alongside Ravi who was now telling her to run. Run. Make a break for it.
Pip flicked her legs out and pushed off against her knuckles. She landed on her feet on the gravel and tried to take a step, but her ankles were bound too tight. She tipped forward.
Jason caught her. Righted her, gravel scuffing around them. He hooked his arm through one of hers, clenching it tight.
‘There’s a good girl,’ he said quietly, absently, as though he wasn’t really seeing her at all. ‘Walk or I’ll have to carry you.’ He didn’t say it loud, he didn’t say it hard; he didn’t have to. He was in control, and he knew it. That’s what all this was about.
He started walking and so did she, minuscule steps against the duct tape. It was slow-moving, and Pip used the time to look around her, study her surroundings.
There were trees. Off to the right and behind her. Encircling them was a tall metal fence painted a dark green. A gate right behind them that Jason must have opened when he’d first left the car. It was still open now, wide open. Taunting her.
Jason was leading her towards an industrial-looking building – iron-sheeting sides – but there was a separate bricked building off to the left. Wait. Pip knew this place. She was sure of it. She took it all in again: the tall green metal fence, the trees, the buildings. And if that wasn’t clear enough, there were five vans parked over there, the logo emblazoned on their sides. Pip had been here before. No, she hadn’t. Not really. Only as a ghost, skulking up and down the road through a computer screen.
They were at Green Scene Ltd.
The complex off a tiny country road in the middle of nowhere in Knotty Green. Jason was right; no one would hear her scream.
That didn’t stop her trying, as they reached a metal door in the side of the building.
Jason smiled, flashed his teeth at her again.
‘None of that,’ he said, fiddling with his front pocket. He pulled something out, sharp and shiny. It was an overloaded ring of keys, different shapes and sizes. He flicked through them, selected a long, thin one with jagged teeth.
He muttered to himself, guiding the key towards the bulky silver lock in the middle of the door. His other arm loosened a little, the arm holding her there.
Pip took her chance.
She slammed her arm down against his and broke the hold.
Freedom. She was free.
But it didn’t get her far.
She couldn’t even take one step before the force of his hand pulled her back, holding her bound arms behind her like a leash.
‘It’s pointless,’ Jason said, turning his attention back to the lock. He didn’t look angry; the expression in the curve of his mouth was closer to amusement. ‘You know as well as I do that that’s pointless.’
Pip did. Less than one per cent.
The door unlocked with the sound of clanging metal and Jason pushed it inward. It screamed on its hinges.
‘Come on.’
He dragged Pip over the threshold. It was dark in here, full of tall, wiry shadows, just one small window high up on the right, barring most of the sunlight. Jason seemed to read her mind again, flicking a switch on the wall. The industrial lights blinked into life with a lazy buzzing. The room was long and thin and cold. It looked like some kind of storeroom: tall metal shelving units down both walls, huge plastic vats stacked up and along the shelves with small taps near the bottom. Pip’s eyes scanned across them; different types of weedkiller and fertilizer. There were two sunken channels in the concrete floor under the shelves, running the length of the room.
Jason pulled her along by her arms, the heels of her trainers dragging against the ground.
He dropped her.
Pip landed hard on the concrete, just in front of the righthand shelves. She struggled up into sitting, watching as he stood over her. The breath in and out of her nose too loud and too fast, the sound re-shaping in her mind into DT, DT, DT.
And here he was. Strange, really, that he looked just like a man. He’d been so much bigger in her nightmares.
Jason smiled to himself then, shaking his head at something funny.
He raised one finger at her, pacing towards a sign that read: Warning! Toxic Chemicals. ‘That security alarm,’ he said, stifling the laugh. ‘That security alarm you were so interested in?’ He paused. ‘It was Tara Yates who set it off. Yes,’ he added, studying her eyes. ‘You misread that one, didn’t you? It was Tara who set it off. She was tied up in here, in this very room.’ He glanced around the storeroom, filling it with dark memories that Pip couldn’t see. ‘This is where they all were. Where they died. But Tara, she somehow managed to break free of the tape on her wrists when I left her. Was moving around and set off the alarm. I’d forgotten to disable it properly, see.’
His face creased again, as though he were only talking about a small mistake, one that could be laughed off, shrugged off. The hairs rose up the back of Pip’s neck, watching him.
‘All turned out fine. I reached her in time,’ he said. ‘Had to rush the rest of it to get back to the dinner party, but it all turned out fine.’
Fine. The word that Pip used too. An empty word with all manner of dark things buried beneath it.
Pip tried to speak. She didn’t even know what she wanted to say, just that she wanted to try, before it was too late. She couldn’t get through the tape but the formless sound of her voice was enough, reminded her that she was still there. Ravi was still there too, he told her gently. He’d stay with her until the end.
‘What’s that?’ Jason asked, still pacing back and forth. ‘Oh, no. No, you don’t have to worry. I’ve learned from my mistake last time. The security alarm is definitely disabled. So are the CCTV cameras, inside and out. All of them are off, so you have nothing to worry about now.’
Pip made a sound in her throat.
‘They’re off as long as I need them to be. All night. All weekend,’ he said. ‘And no one will be coming here, not until Monday morning, so you don’t need to worry about that either. Just you and me. Oh, but let me have a little look here.’
Jason approached her. Pip pushed back against the shelves. He knelt at her side and studied the tape wrapped around her wrists and her ankles.
He tutted to himself, fiddling with the binds. ‘No, that won’t do. Far too loose. Was in a bit of a hurry to get you in the car. Going to have to re-do them,’ he said, patting her lightly on the shoulder. ‘We don’t want you doing a Tara, do we?’
Pip sniffed, gagging at the smell of his sweat. Too close.
Jason straightened up, grunting as he leaned on his knees. He walked past her, down the row of shelves. Pip turned her head to follow him with her eyes, but he was already rounding back into view, something new in his hands.
A roll of grey duct tape.
‘Here we are,’ he said, bending to his knees again, pulling the end loose from the roll.
Pip couldn’t see what he was doing behind her back, but his fingers touched hers and a shiver gushed up her spine, sickening and cold. She thought she might be sick, and if she was, she would choke on it, the same way Andie Bell had gone.
Andie flashed into her mind, her ghost sitting beside her, holding Pip’s hand. Poor Andie. She’d known what her father was. Had to come back every day to a house where a monster lived. Died trying to get away from him, to protect her sister from him. And that’s when two separate memories jumped like static across Pip’s brain. Fusing, to become one. A hairbrush. But not just a hairbrush. The purple paddle hairbrush on Andie’s desk – the one in the corner of the photos Pip and Ravi took – it had belonged to Melissa Denny, Jason’s second victim. The trophy he took from her, to relive her death. He’d given it to his teenage daughter; probably got a dark thrill from watching her use it. Sick fuck.
The thought ended there, as a quick burst of pain shot up from her wrists. Jason had pulled off the tape, pulling hairs and skin with it. Freedom, again. Unbound. She should fight. Go for his neck. Dig her nails into his eyes. Pip grunted and she tried, but his grip was too tight.
‘What did I say to you?’ Jason said quietly, holding on to her squirming arms. He pulled them up, uncomfortably high behind her, and pulled them back, pressing the insides of her wrists against the front metal pole of the shelving unit.
The duct tape was sticky and cold as he wound it from one wrist, round the metal pole, and round the other wrist.
Pip concentrated, trying to push her hands as far out from each other as she could, so the tape wouldn’t be so tight, so constricting. But Jason was holding them fast, going over the duct tape with another layer. And another. And another.
‘There we go,’ he said, trying to shake her wrists, but they didn’t budge. ‘Nice and secure. Won’t be going anywhere now, will you?’
The tape at her mouth swallowed another scream.
‘Yes, I’m getting to those, don’t worry,’ Jason said, shuffling towards her feet. ‘Always worrying. Always nagging, all of you. So loud.’
He knelt on her legs to pin them down, and then wound a new length of duct tape around her ankles, over the first one. Tighter this time, going over it twice.
‘That will do.’ He pivoted to look back at her. His eyes narrowed. ‘I normally give you one chance to speak now. To apologize, before…’ He drew off, staring down at the roll of duct tape, running his finger tenderly around its edge. Jason leaned over and reached for her face. ‘Don’t let me regret it,’ he said, tugging sharply at the tape across her cheeks, pulling it free of her mouth.
Pip sucked at the air, and it felt different through her mouth. More space, less terror.
She could scream now, if she wanted. Cry out for help. But what would be the point? No one could hear, and no help was coming. It was just the two of them.
Part of her wanted to look up at him and ask him, ‘Why?’ But there was no why, Pip knew that. He wasn’t Elliot Ward, or Becca, or Charlie Green, where their whys pushed them out of the dark and into that confusing grey space. That human space of good intentions or bad choices or mistakes or accidents. She’d read the criminal profile and that told her all she needed to know. The DT Killer had no grey area and no why; that’s exactly why it had seemed so right before. The perfect case: save herself to save herself. She wouldn’t be saving anybody now, especially not herself. She’d lost, she was going to die and there was no why, not to Jason Bell. Only why not. Pip and the five who came before her, they were somehow intolerable to him. That was all. Not murder in his eyes, but an extermination. Pip wouldn’t get any more if she asked.
Another part of her, that thornier side where the rage hibernated, wanted to shout at him to go fuck himself, and keep shouting it until he was forced to kill her right here, right now.
Nothing she could say would stop him or hurt him. Nothing. Unless…
‘She knew who you were,’ Pip said, her voice bruised and raw. ‘Andie. She knew you were the DT Killer. She saw you with Julia and she put it all together.’
Pip watched as new creases formed around Jason’s eyes, a twitch in his mouth.
‘Yeah, she knew you were a killer. Months before she died. In fact, that’s why she died. She was trying to get away from you.’ Pip took another gulp of unrestricted air. ‘Even before she found out who you were, I think she knew there was something wrong with you. That’s why she never brought anyone round the house. She’d been saving up money for a year, to escape, to live somewhere else far away from you. She was going to wait for Becca to finish school, and then she was going to come back for Becca, take her with her. And once they were somewhere you couldn’t find them, Andie was going to turn you in to the police. That was her plan. She hated you so much. So does Becca. I don’t think she knows who you really are, but she hates you too. I worked it out: that’s why she chose to go to prison. It was to stay away from you.’
Pip shot the words up at him, her voice hiding six bullets that would blow gaping holes in him. Narrowed her eyes to eviscerate him with her gaze. But he didn’t fall down. He stood there, a strange expression on his face, eyes darting side to side as he took in what she just said.
He sighed.
‘Well,’ he said, an affectation of sadness in his voice, ‘Andie shouldn’t have done that. Got herself involved in my business; it wasn’t her place. And now we both know why she died, then. Because she didn’t listen.’ He tapped the side of his head by one ear, too hard. ‘I spent her whole life trying to teach her, but she never listened. Just like Phillipa and Melissa and Bethany and Julia and Tara. Too loud, all of you. Speaking out of turn. That’s not how it’s supposed to be. You’re supposed to listen to me. That’s all. Listen and do what you’re told. How is that so hard?’
He fiddled agitatedly with the end of the duct tape.
‘Andie,’ he said her name out loud, mostly to himself. ‘And, you know, I even gave it all up for her. I had to, after she went missing. The police were too close, it was too much of a risk. I was done. I found someone who listened to me. I would have been done.’ He laughed, darkly, quietly, pointing at Pip with the roll of duct tape. ‘But then you came along, didn’t you? And you were just so loud. Too loud. Meddling in everyone’s business. In mine. I lost my second wife, the only woman who listened, because she listened to you instead. You were a test, just for me, and I knew I couldn’t fail it. My last one. Far too loud to let it be. Seen, not heard, didn’t your daddy ever teach you that?’ He gritted his teeth. ‘And here you are, trying to interfere again with your last words, telling me about Andie. It doesn’t hurt me, you know. You can’t hurt me. It only proves I was right. About her. Becca too. All of you. Something badly wrong with all of you. Dangerous.’
Pip couldn’t speak. She didn’t know how to, watching this man pacing up and down in front of her, raving. Spit flying from his mouth, veins branching out of his reddening neck.
‘Oh.’ He drew up suddenly, his eyes widening with delight, a wicked smile on his face. ‘But I have something that will hurt you. Ha!’ Jason clapped his hands loudly together, and Pip flinched at the sound, hitting her head against the metal shelf. ‘Yes, one final lesson before you go. And now you’ll understand, how perfect this all was, how fitting. How it was always supposed to end this way. And I’ll always get to remember the look on your face.’
Pip stared up at him, confused. What lesson? What was he talking about?
‘It was last year,’ Jason began, locking on to her eyes. ‘Near the end of October, I think. Becca wasn’t listening to me again. Wasn’t replying to me or answering my texts. So, I dropped round the house one afternoon, my house, though I was living with my other wife at the time, the one who listened. I brought a late lunch round for Becca and Dawn. And did they say thank you? Dawn did, Dawn has always been weak. But Becca was acting strange. Distant. I had words with her again, as we ate, about listening, but I could tell she was keeping something from me.’ He paused, licked his dry lips. ‘So, when I left, I didn’t really leave; I stayed in my car down the road and watched the house. And, what do you know, little more than ten minutes later, Becca walks out of the house, and she has a dog on a lead. Her little secret. I didn’t tell them they were allowed to get a dog. They never asked me. I didn’t live there, but they still had to listen to me. You can just imagine how furious that made me. So, I got out of the car, and I followed Becca into the woods as she walked this new dog.’
Pip’s heart jumped, a cliff-drop down her ribs, landing hard in the pit of her stomach. No no no. Not this. Please don’t go where she thought it was going.
Jason smirked, watching it play out on her face, enjoying every moment. ‘It was a golden retriever.’
‘No,’ Pip said quietly, the pain in her chest a physical ache.
‘So, I’m watching Becca walk this dog,’ he continued. ‘And she lets him off the lead, gives him a stroke and then tells him to “Go home,” which of course I thought was strange at the time. Proved to me even more that Becca did not deserve a dog, if she couldn’t handle the responsibility. And then she starts throwing sticks for him, and he kept bringing them back. Then she throws one as far as she possibly can through the trees, and as the dog is running after it, Becca runs away. Back towards home. The dog can’t find her. He’s confused. So, of course, now I know Becca isn’t ready for a dog, because she never asked me, because she doesn’t listen. So, I approach this dog. Very friendly little thing.’
‘No,’ Pip said again, louder this time, trying to pull at her restraints.
‘Becca wasn’t ready and she hadn’t listened to me. She had to learn her lesson,’ Jason smiled, feeding himself from the despair on Pip’s face. ‘So, I walk this friendly dog down to the river.’
‘No!’ Pip shouted.
‘Yes!’ he laughed, matching her. ‘I drowned your dog. Of course, I didn’t know it was your dog back then. I did it to punish my daughter. And then you release your podcast, which caused all sorts of trouble for me, but you talked about your dog – Barney, wasn’t it? You thought it was just an accident, and you didn’t blame Becca for what happened. Well,’ he clapped his hands again, ‘it wasn’t an accident. I killed your dog, Pip. See, destiny moves in mysterious ways, doesn’t it? Binding us together all the way back then. And now you’re here.’
Pip blinked, and all the colour leeched out of Jason, out of the room, replaced with red. Rage red. Violent red. Behind-her-eyes red. Blood-on-her-hands red. I’m-going-to-die red.
She screamed at him. A bottomless scream, raw and visceral. ‘Fuck you!’ she screamed, angry, desperate tears falling into her open mouth. ‘Fuck you! Fuck you!’
‘We’ve reached that point, have we?’ Jason said, a shift in the way he held his face, in the curve of his eyes.
‘Fuck you!’ Pip’s chest shuddered with the force of all her hate.
‘OK then.’
Jason walked towards her, a ripping sound as he pulled a long length of duct tape from the roll.
Pip drew her legs into her chest, kicked out at him with her bound feet.
Jason sidestepped her easily. He knelt down beside her, slowly, assuredly.
‘Never listen,’ he said, reaching out for her face.
Pip tried to pull away, pulled so hard she thought she might just leave her hands behind, tied to the shelves while she went free. Jason pushed one hand against her forehead, holding it fast against the metal pole.
Pip bucked. She tried to kick. Tried to thrash her head side to side.
Jason pressed the tape against her right ear. Looped it up over the crown of her head, back down and pressed it into her other ear, stuck down under her chin.
More ripping. More tape.
‘Fuck you!’
Jason shifted the angle, winding it horizontally across her chin, around the back of her head, sticking to her hair.
‘Stop moving,’ he said, frustrated. ‘You’re making it messy.’
He wound the tape up over her chin, another row, catching her bottom lip.
‘Never listen,’ Jason said, his eyes narrowed and concentrated. ‘So, now you can’t listen. Or speak. Or even look at me. You don’t deserve to.’
The winding duct tape pressed her lips together, stealing her screams again. Up higher, tucked in under her nose.
Jason wound the tape round the back of her head again, shifting up to leave her nostrils clear. Panicked breaths in and out. Tape round and round and up her nose, to the bottom of her eyes.
Jason shifted again, pulling the roll of tape up to cover the top of her head. Round and round. Working down her forehead. Down and round.
Tape over her eyebrows, sticking them down.
Round the back of her head again.
And there was only one thing left.
One final strip of her face.
Pip watched him do it. Watched him as he took her sight from her, as he’d taken the rest of her face, only closing her eyes at the very last moment before he pressed the tape over them.
Jason removed the pressure from her head, and she could move it again but she could not see.
A ripping sound. The weight of his fingers at her temple as he stuck the end down.
It was complete. Her death mask.
Faceless.
Dark.
Quiet.
Disappeared.
