killer’s side, and I hope this new countdown killer triumphs where I failed.”
The DI tore his gaze from Romeo, rewound the folder on his desk, then got to his feet.
“You really are a monster.”
“You say it like an insult, but all I hear is a compliment.”
****
The Copycat had claimed number three, was one away from leveling Romeo’s score. He would’ve been happy, had it not been for the magpie feathers. Someone other than Chad had found out the significance of the magpie, had used it to convince him Chad was sending him messages.
The only people other than Chad that knew about the magpie were his parents, and they were dead. He hadn’t shared that moment with anyone but Chad, which meant Chad must’ve told someone.
Romeo laid in bed, drumming his fingers on his chin. He couldn’t have told his colleagues, and as far as Romeo was aware, his colleagues were his friends, Chad didn’t have anyone else.
“Therapist.” Romeo whispered.
He must’ve let slip to his therapist, who could’ve noted it down on file. Romeo’s frown deepened with his self-thought explanation. It would mean someone was watching Chad a bit too closely for his liking.
Unless…
Romeo’s heart picked up pace, and he stared unblinking at the ceiling. The monstrous part of his mind had sat bolt upright at his new explanation.
Chad was the killer.
He’d taken the good out of Chad and turned him into a killer. The thought was both exciting and alarming. The monster in Romeo’s mind was purring, happy with the thought of breeding its darkness into someone else.
Romeo closed his eyes and rolled onto his side. “Impossible.”
He had a whole week to speculate before he’d be face to face with Chad again.
Chapter Nine
When the door to the visiting room finally opened, Romeo stared unblinkingly at Chad.
Chad, darting his eyes, bowing his head and acting all sheepish. He sat down opposite Romeo, swallowed hard, then looked Romeo head on.
“Concealer sucks.”
The hot bubble of anger rose up in Romeo’s stomach. He could only look at Chad’s eye, the purple eye, the swollen flesh. It looked as if he had tried to dab concealer onto the bruise, but it hadn’t helped. It looked like someone had stuck a plum to his eye, then squashed it.
“It looks worse than it is.”
“Who the hell did that?”
Chad exhaled through his nose. “Gareth…”
“He punched you in the face?”
Chad gave him a grim smile. “Yeah.”
“Well, I’ve now picked my number one…”
“Don’t even joke about it.”
“For once, I’m not joking, Chad.”
“Look, I deserved it. I hit him first.”
Romeo leaned as far as he could over the table. “And I hope he’s got an equally messed up eye.”
“Split his lip actually.”
Romeo’s bottom lip tingled. He remembered Chad’s mean right hook.
“Splitting lips a specialty of yours?”
“It’s on my CV and everything.”
“What was the fight about?”
“I wouldn’t call it a fight.”
“Chad?”
Chad gave him a pointed look, then whispered, “You … kinda. This—this whole situation.”
“And you hit him first?”
“He wanted me to stop visiting.”
“They all do, don’t they?”
“Yeah, but Gareth… It’s been building for months, and we came to blows yesterday.”
“He thinks he’s looking out for your best interests … he’s worried about you. People do odd things when they’re worried.”
Chad snorted, shaking his head. “You know it started out like that, worry, concern, but then it turned to fear. People fear what they don’t understand. It unsettles them, riles them up, frustrates them, and frustration builds into irritation, then anger. He made a comment, and I snapped.”
“What did he say that made you hit him?”
Chad looked at Fred, then Paul, then the camera. He couldn’t tell Romeo what their argument had been about, and that was enough of an answer. They’d come to blows over the copycat case.
Once Romeo could see beyond Chad’s sore eye, he did a double take at what he was wearing. Not his shirt and tie like he’d driven straight there after work, but a loose grey hoodie, and sat with his hands under the table.
“Why aren’t you in your suit?”
Chad shook his head and spoke as if Romeo hadn’t said anything. “I knew that people wouldn’t understand why I like visiting you, but I never knew it would be this hard. Walking into work, the hostile atmosphere, the whispers, the looks. It’s just—it’s shit.”
“You’ve got me, you know that, right? I get you.”
“But you’re in here, Romeo. I’m on my own out there, and it feels like the walls are closing in on me. I’m trying to hold it together, but why? What’s the point? Why do