Salt Page 16

  The screen changed to the blurred images of a crime scene. There was blood on the floor and walls and what looked like a flesh coloured splodge in the centre of the picture. A forensic expert explained how blood from arterial spray was totally different to blood from other sources. Small yellow flags marked evidence on the floor of the picture, he wondered if finding a victim still alive upset detectives and forensic scientists because the paramedics would ruin whatever evidence there was on the scene.

  A Scottish professor, the same one who appeared on every show explained how the murderer had been a disorganised offender so had taken no care to hide evidence. He simply knocked on the door and rushed the victim when they opened it, the attack had been sustained and vicious. Dan wondered how much real crime shows and CSI Wherever had done to help the more organised killers avoid capture, every time an expert explained how a killer was caught it gave tips on how to avoid being caught.

  People had often thought Dan odd for enjoying true life crime shows but it wasn’t the gruesome images or descriptions that interested him, if you wanted to see that kind of thing you could find it on the internet. There were no doubt places where you could see actual murders happening if you looked hard enough. Nowadays everyone with Google was only keystrokes away from Mexican beheadings or car crash images. If you wanted it, it could be found. The odd thing was that he actually struggled to look at that kind of image, some people loved it but it really did nothing for him. What he enjoyed was hearing what the murderers did that lead to their arrest. Did they have something as simple as an unpaid parking ticket or did they use a floppy disc from their church to write letters to newspapers. Every criminal, no matter how meticulous made a mistake sooner or later and then the leg work of the detectives and the brains of the lab coats snapped them up. Then again, he often wondered how many criminals had gotten away with murder, as the saying goes. ‘You don’t know what you don’t know.’

  He remembered an article he once read suggesting there were actually a large number of serial killers operating in the world, especially around America. They changed how they operated, moved location, were caught for something else or simply died of unrelated causes. The article said that the police avoided labelling any murder a serial killer because of the public panic and pressure that came with the term. There were hundreds of thousands of unsolved murders and many more missing persons and only the victim and killer knew what happened. Some well-known serial killers had operated for years without being caught, killing multiple victims in fixed locations while the police focussed on catching them. Perhaps a smart killer hopped in his car and moved around a little, some he shot, others he stabbed.

  The serial killers leaving clues and playing games with the police were either fictional or caught pretty quickly. He was amazed how any crime went unsolved now when he listened to the methods the police had to catch people.

  Sometimes while travelling, he looked at men and wondered if any of them were killers. The days of paperwork being so heavy it collapsed ceilings and caused delays to investigations were long gone but how well would a police force deal with a killer who was only in town for a week or two. His hire car would be cleaned and back in circulation before anyone even made the link. Maybe the guy sat next to him on the plane next time he flew was actually travelling back after dumping a plastic wrapped prostitute in a canal or ditch. It was likely that nobody knew Emma’s rapist was a rapist and he just carried on his life looking for his next victim in private while looking normal in his public life.

  The other reason he watched crime shows was that he liked to hear about the killer’s background. Some of these men and occasional women had no chance of not becoming killers when you looked into their childhood. Often, they were born with an issue that had caused society to reject or shun them. Driving a hatred of people or more often of women which exploded in a sexual frenzy later on. Those not born with a ticking bomb inside or a bully me flag usually ended up with parents or guardians who caused them to become killers. The old adage of blaming the parents was so often true when you looked at the serial killers the press gave cool names to.

  He lay there, his mind pondering whether killers were born or made. Thinking about how many of them had been exposed to sexually violent images, the timing of which could be critical to their future tastes. Many people had fetishes because their first sexual thoughts had been based on events around them or images they had access to. He wondered if that was why lingerie was so popular as men his age had often looked through clothing catalogues as a teen. Just like men in America liked cheerleaders and some nationalities preferred nuns. He thought back to the beheading videos and violent pornography so easily available now and wondered what the next generation would be like. He liked rough sex as much as anyone but a lot of the internet turned his stomach and he had no idea what some teenage kid locked in his room watching war rape and massacres would be like when he got older. Maybe over the next few years a peak of violence would take hold or maybe people were just people like they always had been.

  The thought of rape pornography brought Emma to his mind. He wondered how she felt about how easily the term was now thrown around. Once upon a time being a pimp had been an insult but now it filled popular culture. Rape was now treated casually by people online and he couldn’t imagine how it felt for victims to hear jokes about sexual abuse. He had even seen people wearing Jim’ll Fix It badges after his crimes had been made public.

  He picked up the remote control and turned off the television, the last image on screen showing a woman’s feet protruding from a pile of leaves. Dan closed his eyes, he knew he couldn’t kill a woman, especially a helpless one but now he wondered if he could kill anyone at all. Some people deserved to die and they deserved to die painfully because they caused nothing but pain while they lived.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  Dan sat at his desk, his laptop open in front of him on a brushed aluminium stand. He used a Bluetooth keyboard and mouse, wires were a distant memory that no retro hipster would want to recreate. He was bored and as usual when he was bored and online he ended up on YouTube, he was in one of those moods where he wanted to watch people doing silly things so he typed ‘fail’ into the search box. He clicked on the first video and spent the next ten minutes watching people, mostly American teens, fall over or hit themselves in the face with objects when any sane person could see it was bound to end in injury. The video was average but it killed time between emails. Fail videos were a modern schadenfreude that didn’t exist a few years ago. There was a definite satisfaction that came from seeing idiots land on their face. It was almost like watching Darwin proved right with occasional adverts to break the pleasure.

  The video ended and he scrolled down the list of ‘up next’ videos on the right of the screen. There were more ‘fail’ videos than he could count which meant people obviously didn’t learn from watching others. He scrolled down the list waiting for one to stand out, then he found one that caught his attention, it was called ‘bully fails’. He clicked on it.

  The first clip was a large man in a McDonalds somewhere in America, pushing his way in front of a crowd of others in the queue. A smaller man behind him said something in response and was treated to a mouthful of abuse and a shove. The smaller man responded with the classic, ‘I don’t want any trouble.’ To which the bigger replied with a harder push and an insult. The smaller man then punched the big guy dropping him to the floor, the crowd that had gathered around them cheered and Dan assumed they paid for his Big Mac.

  The video continued with much of the same, someone acting tough and starting a confrontation only to find that they had bitten off more than they could chew which was ironic as they often ended the video with fewer teeth left to bite with.

  Dan clicked the next video and noticed it was something slightly different. The caption on screen read ‘brother confronts sister’s rapist.’ Dan sat up in his chair. The man on screen, presumably the brother, walked into a room with two other peop
le sitting down. One sat on a sofa while the other sat in a chair. The man in the chair looked uncomfortable and started to apologise saying he didn’t mean it. The brother took no notice and began to punch him before he had chance to stand up. He continued to hit him until the sofa guy in the room stopped him, the rapist was left bleeding from his face but Dan felt no sympathy.

  The next video started but Dan thought back to the last one. If anyone deserved a beating then it was a rapist, there really weren’t many crimes worse than rape. He remembered the bastard who’d raped Emma, the guy had never faced up to his actions and never would. He’d more than likely raped other girls with no reason to stop. Dan wondered how many other girl’s lives he had ruined and he could feel his anger building. He could see the stupid grin in his mind, laughing at how he had humiliated Emma and used her. The bastard had ruined her life and never even had someone punch him in the mouth for doing so.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  They sat slouched, a pile of pillows ramping up to the headboard against their backs, the quilt a long-forgotten pile on the floor. The television was on but they only half watched it, it was tuned to a music channel that seemed to be sponsored by Justin Bieber.

  ‘I wish I could meet him you know.’ Dan said still looking at the TV.

  ‘Who? Bieber?’ Emma asked turning to face Dan. ‘I didn’t know you were a Belieber.’

  ‘No not Bieber silly. The guy. I’d like to meet him so I could smack him in the mouth.’ Dan said.

  ‘Which guy?’ She said turning back to the screen.

  ‘The guy. You know, the one who did it.’

  ‘You mean Jaz?’ Emma asked.

  ‘If that’s his name, then yes Jaz.’

  ‘It is. He told me his name was Jaz but I think it was short for something Asian. Why do you want to meet him though?’ Emma said.

  ‘Because it’s not right that he should get away with what he did. I want to hurt him for what he did to you and what he could have done to others. Mainly for what he did to you though.’ Dan said.

  ‘That’s all in the past though. Long time ago.’ She reached down to his hand and squeezed it. ‘But thank you.’

  ‘It might be in the past but he still deserves something, anything. Just something to let him know that he’s a shit.’ He took her hand in his and held it. ‘I hate him for it.’

  ‘You shouldn’t hate him. He didn’t do anything to you and it was my fault for going there.’

  ‘It wasn’t your fault though. Even if you made a mistake in going there it doesn’t mean that what he did is ok. I want to hurt him or ruin something he loves, just anything to get back at him.’ Dan said.

  ‘That’s sweet but it wouldn’t fix anything and I don’t need you to do anything.’ Emma said.

  ‘I would be doing it for me not you. He hurt you and I just wish I could hurt him back. Is there no way you could find him?’ Dan asked.

  Emma hesitated a moment. ‘I guess he’s still in Newton Longville.’

  ‘Why did you hesitate? You know more, don’t you?’ Dan asked.

  ‘No, not really. I just know he’s still there.’

  Dan turned to Emma, he looked her in the eyes ‘You know he’s in Newton thingy or you guess he’s in Newton thingy?

  ‘Newton Longville, its Newton Longville.’ Emma said regretting the conversation.

  ‘Ok. Newton Longville. Is he still in Newton Longville?’

  ‘Yes.’ Emma answered.

  ‘How do you know?’ Dan asked.

  ‘It doesn’t matter and I don’t want to go into it. He’s still there though.’ Emma said.

  ‘I want to know though. How come you know where he is?’

  ‘Please don’t Dan, let’s just watch television.’ Emma said.

  ‘Emma, I want to know how you know where he is.’ Dan knew he shouldn’t push her but couldn’t help himself.

  ‘I found him on Facebook a while ago.’

  ‘What do you mean you found him? Are you friends with him or something?’ Dan sked.

  ‘No for fucks sake no, nothing like that. Just that a few years ago I decided to look through it until I found him and I did.’ Emma said.

  ‘So, you know where he lives and stuff?’ Dan sat upright, looking at Emma.

  ‘Yes. He inherited his grandma’s house and I, I know where he works.’

  ‘Tell me.’ Dan demanded.

  ‘No. I don’t want you to get into any trouble.’

  ‘What do you mean? You can’t not tell me.’ Dan said.

  ‘I’m not going to tell you, I don’t need you to do anything and I don’t want you to get caught for something by the police.’ Emma said.

  ‘So why did you bother looking for him?’

  ‘I don’t know. I just felt like I never knew where he was and if he’d come for me again. I thought that if I found him on there I could keep an eye on him.’ She said.

  ‘You’ve been watching him for years and you won’t tell me?’

  ‘Yes. I just wanted to be able to see him and check if he was still there so he didn’t move into my street or something.’ Emma said.

  ‘Ok. So you could tell me his address right now?’

  ‘I’m not going to tell you anything.’ She said.

  ‘But you could, right?’ Dan asked.

  ‘Yes. I could but I just want to leave it.’

  ‘Ok.’ He said.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Emma asked.

  ‘I mean ok I understand that you want to leave it.’

  ‘Thank you, babe.’ She said.

  ‘I’m going to leave it for now. But at some point, you’re going to tell me because he can’t get away with it.’

  ‘Ok.’ Emma said.

  ‘What do you mean ok?’ Dan said.

  ‘I mean maybe at some point I’ll tell you.’

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  ‘The weirdest thing was my knickers.’ Emma said.

  ‘What do you mean? Dan asked.

  ‘I think he kept them, I mean, I had them when I went there but then I didn’t. I think he kept them.’

  ‘How did that happen?’ He asked feeling confused.

  ‘Well I was young remember. I didn’t really know much about sex but I knew that women in films always wore nice underwear. I didn’t want to have sex with him but I kind of wanted to feel like a woman underneath. Sounds silly now I know.’ Emma said.

  ‘Not really, you were young I think everyone wants to feel older until they actually get older.’ Dan said.

  ‘Maybe, anyway I went to Next and bought this little red set of bra and knickers. I can remember them as clear as day, they cost me £40 which was a lot. I’d emptied my little tin of money from my job at the paper shop. I was on my own and I felt really embarrassed which was crazy because I’d bought undies before but usually with my mum and never this kind of stuff. It just sounds so stupid now being so nervous about a bra.’

  ‘Not really, you were still a kid.’ He said.

  ‘I guess so. I’d spotted the ones I wanted, they were bright red, they stood out on the rack. I walked around until it was quiet, I think they thought I was shoplifting because they asked me three times if I needed help. Then I just grabbed them and walked to the till. The woman there asked if I needed help with the size or anything but I couldn’t look her in the eye. I said no to everything she offered and paid. I wanted to feel grown up and sexy but I just felt like she thought I was a slut or something. I took the bag off her and walked out the shop without looking up from the floor. Once I got outside I shoved the bag inside my hand bag so nobody could see it on the bus and walked away. I felt weird and went to Maccies to get something to eat. I remember sitting there eating a happy meal with this bright red lingerie set in my bag, I didn’t think about it at the time but it’s weird eating a kid’s meal when I had just bought underwear to make me feel grown up.’ Emma said.

  ‘I don’t know about that, you still eat Happy Meals and now you’re a proper grown up.’

  ‘True,
I do like the cheeseburger ones.’ She smiled.

  ‘What happened next?’ Dan asked.

  ‘I went home on the bus and went straight to my room and shut the door. I got them out of the bag and put it all on the bed, like laid out. They were bright red against the sheets, like really red and I didn’t know if it was too red but it looked really grown up and naughty. I sat there looking at it and decided to try it on, so I undressed and picked up the knickers first. I stepped into them and they felt really different.’

  ‘How do you mean different?’ Dan asked.

  ‘They felt like they were lighter, like thinner or something but they almost felt like I wasn’t wearing anything but they fitted really good. Then I got the bra and slipped that on, that felt like it was lighter too, the lace felt really soft and sexy on my skin but kind of weird on my boobs.’

  ‘Why weird?’ Dan asked.

  ‘Well I hadn’t really looked when I was in the shop and I didn’t really know much about different bras but it was a push up bra and they, well they push you up. My underwear before that had been like sports stuff that just held them in place and whatever for school. This one dug in my ribs and squashed everything up, I wasn’t sure if I could wear it but then I went to my mirror and I knew I could put up with the digging in.’

  ‘You liked how it looked?’ He asked smiling.

  ‘I liked how they looked. I’d got decent sized boobs anyway but they just looked like wow with the bra on. I really liked how they looked and the knickers made my bum look great. I stood in front of the mirror checking myself out and feeling really good about how I looked. Then my dad knocked on the door and shouted about my dinner and I nearly died, I didn’t want him to see me in underwear at the best of times and no way like this. So, I told him I’d be down in a minute, I was just getting changed. He knew enough about teenage girls to know that meant don’t come in so I was ok but I took them off fast and shoved them at the bottom of my wardrobe.’ Emma said.