wrote the words, ‘I am Romeo Knight, AKA the Countdown Killer’.
He knew his words would be picked over, analyzed repeatedly. He had to hint at his suicidal end, but not push it too hard. The car at the edge of the cliff, and Holly’s article on him would be the final pieces of the puzzle, but he needed to make sure it made a real picture, not a fake one.
Romeo closed the notepad, then placed it on top of the passenger seat. He climbed out, leaving the driver’s door hanging open, a clear suggestion that he may have exited the vehicle, and thrown himself over the drop. He took off Neil’s clothes, folded them neatly, then placed them on the passenger seat with Neil’s shoes pinning them down.
He wrapped his newly acquired coat from Marc around himself and slipped into Marc’s smaller trainers.
The edges of the cliff were rock, and he left no print as he moved as quickly as he could away from the car. The rock wouldn’t last, he hoped the prints he left behind would be discounted or overlooked.
For the second time in two days, Romeo relied on the cover of darkness to get away. He heard sirens, another helicopter, but instead of coming from everywhere, they stayed in one spot, and he moved further and further away from the Porsche, and the sight of his apparent suicide.
He remembered what Will had told him in prison. Sixteen-century John Nevison who faked being dead to escape. He’d done the same, but unlike John Nevison, Romeo wasn’t going to be caught a second time, not unless Chad wanted him to be.
Chapter Twenty
Whether the police believed it or not, his suicide still made it to the papers. Romeo found one discarded in a bin three days later.
Romeo didn’t puff up with pride like when his countdown had been recorded, he sagged with a slow sigh. Holly’s featured article supported the whole “I finished what I set out to do, and now I’m uncatchable” theory.
Even if the police believed it had all been a ruse to escape, they’d assume he’d run away. Disappeared into the shadows and fog like a Hollywood monster.
He wasn’t lurking in the shadows, but he might well have been.
Three days after he’d seen Chad. Three days after his ‘suicide’.
He’d been the farmer. The Suited Businessman. And the Homeless Guy. All disguises he’d donned to help the monster.
The farmer stood out with his rural clothing, muddy boots, and flat cap.
The suited man stood out with his tailored clothes, his stylish taste, and good looks.
But the homeless guy faded into the background. He always had, and always would.
Brown loose pants he’d found in someone’s trash. A well-worn jacket he stole from someone’s shed. Gloves he found in a skip that looked like they’d been chewed by rats. His face was dirty, his stubble wild, and his hair clumped with grease.
He didn’t have to avoid people, he could walk right up to them, they avoided him. Hurried across the street to get away, didn’t make eye contact, and pretended he was invisible. The ones that didn’t, threw money into his pot to spare their own guilt.
Romeo, the countdown killer, was right there, but no one suspected a thing.
****
Another dream.
He didn’t kill the magpie.
He let it go.
The magpie was rejected by its own kind, looked on with fear and suspicion.
It flew.
But was caught by Marc Wilson.
Marc Wilson who broke its wings with a sadistic smile on his face. Marc Wilson who asked Romeo to join him, to pull the magpie apart together.
He turned to Romeo, grinning with glee, triumphant in his brutality. Romeo felt weak, defeated, helpless, he couldn’t get to Chad in time, he couldn’t save him.
The nausea in his stomach changed to fire, to an intense anger that fed into his veins.
The monster tore free from Romeo’s mind, hideous, evil, hard to even look at. It sunk its fangs and claws into Marc, growled and roared as it devoured him. His life, the energy the monster craved, longed for, wished to possess spilled out of Marc into the monster.
It was killing Marc and enjoying every second.
Romeo stumbled towards the magpie on trembling legs and picked the broken bird off the ground.
He had hold of it, promised to fix it again, but this time he’d never let it go.
****
Romeo didn’t wake shouting or covered in sweat. He slowly opened his eyes, then looked up at the light flickering above him, literally a spotlight showing him to the world.
Seven days since