She ran, surprising herself at how fast her aged body could go, and grabbed Geoffrey’s flailing arm. She tugged him, by the wrist, out of Jim’s hold. The unexpected nature of her move caused Jim to slip, smacking his chin against the edge of the small wall and landing face down on the asphalt. Carol sank her knee into the back of his neck.
She heard a whimper, not from Jim but from Geoffrey, who was now sitting on the floor quivering, contemplating how close he’d come to death.
What now? It was four against one and Jim had no weapon. Carol was in the zone. She could ease the life out of him right here, snap his neck, strangle him. It would be nice to feel the old buzz. The moment when you take a man from one realm to another, whenyouflick the switch. The privilege.
Time slowed.
Just as she was about to begin the kill, something new arrived: hesitation. She looked up at Geoffrey, Catherine, and Margaret. Her friends. These people didn’t have that impulse. For perhaps the first time in her life, Carol had something to lose.
She didn’tneedto kill Jim. They had the upper hand. He wasn’t a threat anymore. The exertions of the last few minutes had taken their toll on him. This was a man whose body couldn’t do what his mind wanted anymore, and Carol’s mind didn’t want to do what her body could. To kill him now would be to do it for sport. No need to kill for killing’s sake.
As Carol took away her knee, she heard the footsteps coming…
And then watched the secateurs go into the back of Jim’s neck. Hard and deep. It happened in slow motion. Was this an out-of-body experience? Had her muscle memory taken over? It took her a full second to comprehend the new reality.
“Don’t hurt my man!” Catherine shouted.
Carol moved to the side and saw Catherine’s contorted face, red with rage, her teeth gritted, as she stabbed Jim three times.
Is that what I used to look like? Carol pondered.
—
Carol, Margaret, Geoffrey,and Catherine sat on the roof, their backs leaning against the small wall. They were all breathless, so overwhelmed by the action that they hardly noticed the rain. Catherine looked at the blood on her hand and dropped the secateurs. Jim lay dead, his face resting in a puddle.
Margaret broke the silence. “At least we know who killed Desmond and Giles now.”
“It wasn’t Jim,” said Carol matter-of-factly.
“Itwasn’t?” said Margaret.
“Nope.”
“The drugs…Sorry, Jim was watering them. Am I being thick?” said Catherine. “I’m really not sure what’s going on.”
“All will be revealed,” said Carol.
“When?” said Geoffrey. “I was hoping to watchGrand Designsat nine.”
“At the dénouement, of course,” said Carol.
“And when is that exactly?” said Margaret. “Did you send an invitation? Sorry, I haven’t had a chance to check my phone.”
“Now. Downstairs, in the hall.” She looked at Jim’s corpse. “Unfortunately, not everyone can make it, but I’m expecting a good turnout. It’s karaoke night! You can’t miss karaoke night!”
“And Jim’s body?” said Geoffrey.
Carol thought for a moment, looking at Catherine.
“Leave him here,” she said. “We can deal with all that later.”
“There’s only one problem,” said Margaret. They looked at her. “I’m really not sure I can get up.”
Forty-Five
Everyone was there.Those who were still alive, anyway. The death toll stood at three. For one brief week in June, London’s murder hot spot was a luxury retirement home in Hampstead.
Karaoke night.
