Page 40 of The Psychopath Next Door

Until Lucy, that was. But Lucy was inside too, serving a whole life sentence. On top of that, Fiona wasn’t sure if ‘friendship’ was the right term for what she and Lucy Newton had. It was a connection. A likeness. A recognition that they were both different from other people.

Different. Special.Better.

They were the apex. And they had recognised that in each other as soon as they met.

An officer opened the door and the visitors filed through, Fiona among them. There were a few husbands and boyfriends. Some mums. Girlfriends and sisters. Lots of hugs, which were allowed here, in this open prison.

Fiona and Lucy didn’t hug. In fact, Lucy wore a murderous scowl, and when Fiona sat opposite her, Lucy’s first words were:

‘You took your time.’

Lucy had often been described as Amazonian. Six foot tall, broad shoulders, powerful-looking. Her blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, her face free of make-up and, because she so rarely smiled or showed much in the way of expression, remarkably free of lines. Who needed Botox when you were a psychopath?

‘Hi Lucy. Lovely to see you too.’

‘It’s been nearly two years since you got out.’

‘I know. That’s how long it took for them to give me permission to visit. Apparently it’s unusual for ex-cons to want to go back and see their old cellmates, if you can believe that.’ She chuckled. ‘I only got the letter giving me the go-ahead last week.’ Lucy barely seemed appeased by this. ‘Anyway, I think the time has flown by.’

‘Not for me.’

‘I guess time moves faster on the outside. But you look well. And at least you-know-who isn’t around anymore, annoying you.’

Lucy’s frown lessened a tiny bit at the memory of what they’d done, removing an annoying woman who had seen herself as the prison’s queen bee. On the eve of Fiona’s release, Lucy had decided to ruin the party. She and Fiona had lured her outside that night, to a spot where the women had been working during the day. They’d killed her, Lucy smashing her skull in with a brick, and then framed one of the less intelligent inmates. It had been delicious fun, and more proof, to Fiona, that what Maisie had taught her was true: that it was easier to live the life you wanted if you paired up with someone else, their own twist on the old maxim that ‘the world is built for two’. Built for two to wreak havoc. To prey on the weak. To get the things you wanted.

Lucy looked around, speaking softly so none of the officers could hear her. ‘There weresomerepercussions. They brought in a new governor, fired a few people, and half the old staff got transferred elsewhere. Security’s been tightened up.’

‘But no one suspects you of anything?’

‘I’m sure some of the other women have a good idea what happened, but they all know what a mistake it would be if they allowed their tongues to wag.’

‘They’d get cut out.’

‘Exactly.’

Even among apex predators there were hierarchies. One polar bear would always be bigger and fiercer than the others, and – among all the women Fiona had met who were like them – Lucy Newton was that bear. After getting out of Franklin Grange, Fiona had read up on Lucy’s history. She and her former husband, Chris, had once lived the life of a pair of spiders, crouched beneath a web into which they would lure and trap flies, getting their kicks from tormenting their prey. At the same time, Lucy was working her way through the elderly residents of the nursing home where she worked, Orchard House, murdering them according to her whims. A dark angel, as the press had called her.

It had been a good life for Lucy and her partner-in-evil, until it all went wrong. Now Chris was dead and Lucy was in prison serving a whole life sentence. Fiona had learned in prison that Lucy had got out on appeal – a technicality – only to wind up back in jail after a revenge scheme that went wrong. Remembering this biographical detail gave Fiona pause. Might her own revenge schemes backfire? But she quickly dismissed her fears. She was cleverer than that.

And besides, the desire for vengeance burned so hot that nothing could divert her from that path. It was a craving that needed to be fed.

‘Let’s not talk about this place,’ Lucy said, leaning forward. ‘It’s boring. Tell me what’s happening out there. You look completely different. I’m not sure about the blonde. It looks better on me.’

‘I think it suits me. Don’t you think I look hot? My new neighbour does.’

Lucy grunted. ‘How’s it all going?’

Fiona smiled. ‘It’s going great. You know I had three names on my list? The first one was dealt with last week.’

Lucy’s eyes glinted. ‘Which one?’

They were talking very quietly now, faces close, their words further cloaked by the babble of conversation around them. ‘The lawyer.’

‘Perfect. How did you do it?’

‘Did I tell you about his peanut allergy?’

Lucy rubbed her hands together. ‘Love it. Rule number one: use their weakness against them – although, don’t you have a nut allergy too?’

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