Page 38 of The Psychopath Next Door

‘From the Roald Dahl book? He should be grateful I didn’t turn him into a mouse.’

Rose giggled. Her eyes were wide. ‘You don’t hate children, though, do you?’

‘Only annoying, swotty ones.’ Fiona glanced towards the exit. ‘He’ll be okay. Maybe he’ll think twice about approaching strangers now. I’ve done him a favour. Not to mention all those strangers.’

Rose was staring at her.

‘Why do you think I brought you here, Rose?’ Fiona asked.

‘I don’t know. To look at the dog heads?’

‘Ha, yes. But why?’

Rose shook her head.

‘Okay, well, think about it. You’re a very clever girl, and I know you’ll figure it out.’ She leaned forward. ‘You’re not just clever, Rose, you’re special. Special like me.’

Fiona got up from the table and gathered up their rubbish, carrying it over to the bin. When she came back, she said, ‘Have you thought of the question you want to ask me yet?’

‘I’m saving it,’ Rose replied.

They left the museum grounds and Fiona consulted the Transport for London app on her phone. The bus stop they needed was down the hill, near the train station.

‘Where are we going now?’ Rose asked.

‘Back to Herne Hill.’

‘You mean, it’s prank time?’

‘It sure is.’

They got on the bus and went up to the top deck. She was finding it hard not to let her excitement show, which was probably why she’d allowed herself to get carried away with the little professor.After all this time, all the planning in prison, the groundwork she’d laid.

‘Let’s run through it again,’ Fiona said, keeping her voice low so the other people on the bus couldn’t hear her. She took the sandwich bag containing the cookies out of her bag, gave it to Rose, then went over what she wanted her to do. This time Fiona had baked the cookies on her own, though she’d only kept a couple and had put all the others straight in the dustbin outside. She’d scrubbed all the surfaces and thrown out the bowl and spatula she’d used.

‘I don’t understand why you needed his keys,’ Rose said.

It was still too soon to tell Rose everything, so she was sticking with the story about this being a prank.

‘Oh, I didn’t need them in the end,’ she lied. ‘I decided that prank was too complicated and unfunny. This one is better.’

‘So ... after he tastes the cookie and realises it’s full of chilies, you’re going to jump out from behind the tree and yell “Got you!”?’

‘Something like that.’

‘It’s not the best prank in the world ever, is it? You could have, I don’t know, put farting powder in them.’

Fiona laughed. ‘I’m not sure farting powder exists, Rose.’

She tingled with anticipation, like a woman who was about to be reunited with her lover after a long absence; a kid who’d been waiting for Christmas since December 26th.

The bus stopped by the park and she hurried down the steep stairs, with Rose following, striding towards the bench in the quiet corner of the park where Max always sat and ate his lunch. If he wasn’t there, if for some reason his routine had changed, she would just have to come back another day – but she needn’t have worried, because there he was. On the bench beneath the cloudy sky, smart top, scruffy bottoms, finishing his lunch while looking at his phone. His backpack sat beside him.

‘Okay,’ Fiona said. ‘You know what to do. Right?’

Rose nodded.

‘Oh, this is going to be so good.’ Taking a look around to ensure no one was coming, Fiona slipped behind a broad-trunked tree and watched Rose trot over to the bench. Max looked up, recognition dawning. Recognition but no suspicion, which was just what she’d expected. He was the kind of man who breezed through life believing everything was going to work out for him. He’d never known any different.

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