Page 44 of Now Comes the Dark

By five o’clock Roman had not been home. The police had finally released Kat and him after three, by which time news of Phil’s murder had spread all through the village. Ashley met him at The New Inn, keen to buy the drinks and help to numb his pain. After four bottles of beer, Roman didn’t feel anything other than numb. He guessed that was the whole point of Ashley’s mission.

Ashley had not invited his toxic boyfriend, which was one thing Roman could feel grateful for. He couldn’t deal with Patrick’s bullshit…not today. Though it was just the two of them, they had barely been left alone the whole time they were there. Hordes of people passed by their table, keen to know what Roman had seen and what the police had told him. He found the attention sickening. These people seemed more interest in hearing the grim details than paying any kind of respect to Phil.

“I always thought the two of you would have made a nice couple,” Roman told Ashley, as he started on his fifth beer.

“Who? Me and Phil?”

“Yeah. He’s a nice guy.Wasa nice guy. Really nice. You could have done a lot worse. Youhavedone a lot worse.”

Ashley swigged his beer and let Roman’s shady remark slide. “I don’t think we ever fancied each other. Phil was a hottie for an old guy. I fancied him for a while, but I don’t think he ever looked at me that way. I enjoyed his company, but there was never any spark between us. I don’t think it would have worked out.”

“We’ll never know now,” Roman said, glaring at the scratch marks on the wooden table. Ordinarily the jukebox would have been playing by this time on a Sunday afternoon, but the manager had left it switched off, allowing the customers some quiet time to reflect on the friend they had lost and the shock that another member of their community had fallen victim to the killer who hunted them. Roman ran his hands across his face. Would he ever rid himself of the sight he’d seen in Phil’s bedroom? Right now, it was seared into the insides of his eye lids. When he closed his eyes, Phil’s face was the only thing he saw.

“I forgot to mention,” Ashley said, changing the subject. “Mallon is back from France.”

Roman looked up. He rested his elbows on the table, his chin in his hands. “He is?”

“You didn’t know? Thought not. You’d have mentioned it otherwise.”

“What makes you sure?”

“I saw him.” Ashley covered a belch with his fist.

“When?”

“This morning. Patrick and I went for a late breakfast along the riverside. You know the place with the blue sign and the high tables outside? There. He came in for a coffee around noon.”

“You’re sure it was him?” Mallon hadn’t given him a date for his return from France, but Roman had taken it for granted thathe would get in touch when he did. He even thought Mallon would have texted him a day or two in advance.

“It was him. I know what he looks like. Besides, I heard him speak. French accents aren’t all that common around here.”

Roman didn’t know what to make of the news. He was disappointed that Mallon couldn’t be bothered to let him know he was back in Blyham. Mallon mustn’t think as much of Roman as he did of him.Does it even matter?After what had happened today, Roman didn’t have the energy or inclination to worry about his love life. Until now, he’d though Mallon was one of the most important things he currently had going on, but the memory of Phil lying lifelessly in bed put that is perspective.

Fuck him.

Mallon would be in touch when he got horny, and maybe Roman wouldn’t be so willing to drop his pants and bend over when he did.

“Have you ever wondered about him? This Mallon guy?” Ashley asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you hardly know anything about him at all, do you?”

“We haven’t known each other for long. It takes time.”

Ashley shook his hand. “I don’t mean where does he come from, or what’s his favourite colour. I mean have you ever seriously wondered about him?”

“I don’t know what you’re getting at.”

He gave a deep dramatic sigh. “Well, think about it, just for a minute. Who has been in town at the time of the last two murders that we know of? He has.”

Roman tutted. “So were we, and everyone else we know.”

“But we know we’re not serial killers. He could be. And we know he wasn’t with you last night or when Cameron was murdered. It could be him. What if the Blyham Strangler isactually the French Strangler? You should find out where he was at the time of all the other murders. It could be important.”

“You’re being ridiculous now. I’m not going to ask him any of that.”

“Then don’t blame me when you wake one night to find his hands around your neck.”

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