Page 61 of Now Comes the Dark

Roman froze.Shit.No. It couldn’t be.

And the words he’d heard less than ten minutes earlier came crashing back.“What’s that Frenchy got that I haven’t?”

“Oh, my God, Mallon. I think I know who did this to you.” His mind was already whirling backwards, to when he’d first met Will, trying to remember how many times he had encountered him since. It seemed like Will had always been there, lurking on the outskirts of the village, making himself known only when it suited him.Is Will the Blyham Strangler?Surely not. This attack on Mallon didn’t fit the strangler’s pattern. He would never have left him alive.

“Who is he?”

“To be honest, I’m not even sure. His name is Will. I don’t know his surname. I hooked up him with last year, before I ever met you. It was nothing. Really, less than nothing. But I saw him tonight, before I came in. He was outside the building. He’s beefy, well-built with short, dark-blond hair, exactly as you describe.”

Mallon gripped the back of the sofa. He swayed a little and a woozy, vacant look came over his face. He snapped into focus a second later. “Then it shouldn’t take the cops long to find him. Call them.”

“I’m getting you an ambulance first. The police can wait.”

Roman took out his phone and used his fingerprint to open the screen lock. He saw, a fraction of a second too late, movement over Mallon’s shoulder. A figure, dressed completely in black, slipped from behind the curtains at the French windows, and with three assured steps, came up behind Mallon and placed the jagged blade of a hunting knife at his throat.

“Isn’t this cute,” Will said.

Roman hadn’t realised when he saw him outside that he was dressed in dark commando gear—a black jacket, the woollen hat, black leather gloves. He even had some kind of rucksack fastened on his back. His blue eyes glistening with dark delight. He must have climbed onto the balcony from the street and gained access through the sliding doors. In that moment, Roman had no doubt that Will was the Strangler.

Mallon gritted his teeth. Will had an arm around his chest, the lethal blade pressed to his throat. Roman saw the workings of Mallon’s mind, as he tried to weigh up his options, his chances of disarming Will. Under difference circumstances, he could have done it. Will couldn’t know what a skilled fighter he was. But Mallon had taken a beating and was likely concussed. One wrong twitch of a muscle and Will could draw that knife and slice his neck wide open.

Roman looked Mallon in the eyes and shook his head, praying he wouldn’t attempt any heroics.

“Wise move,” Will jeered. “You should take notice of what your boyfriend tells you. He’s probably thinking he can sweet talk me out of killing the pair of you. What do you say? Think we should give him a chance?” He tightened the arm around Mallon’s chest. “I’d hate for either of you to think I’m unreasonable.”

Fuck.He’s mad. It was obvious in the wide roll of his eyes, in the whites that now showed clear all around the iris.Why didn’t I notice this before?Will had seemed a little needyand desperate, but Roman had never taken him for an all-out psycho.

“You killed Phil last weekend?” Roman said, his voice hard with anger.

Will’s lips spread into a joyous grin. “Well done. You’ve figured it out faster than I expected.”

“Why?”

“If I knew the answer to that, I could stop myself. But I have no idea. These men present themselves to me and something clicks in my head, sealing their fate.” He pressed the blade closer to Mallon’s neck. A thin trail of blood trickled onto his collarbone. “Only you two are different. You might have noticed that.”

It was only three days since he had killed Phil. The Strangler usually worked on a two-to-three-month cycle. “Why us?”

Will snorted. “That’s another question I wish I had the answer to. But the truth is I’m as bewildered as you are.” He put his mouth closer to Mallon’s ear. “Don’t go thinking you’re anything special, Frenchy? Quite the opposite. If you weren’t hooking up with fuckboy here, you wouldn’t have come to my attention. You’re not my type.” He gave a cold laugh.

Round the fucking bend. As Will babbled, Roman hurriedly ran through their options. If Mallon’s apartment was wired into any security system or panic button, he hadn’t let Roman in on it. And he’d already put down the steak knife and scissors, which were both far out of reach, not that he would feel equipped to use them. There was something in Will’s stance, in the way he restrained Mallon and held his knife, that suggested military training. He could cut Mallon’s throat and bury the blade in Roman before he ever reached those discarded weapons.

He thought about the attack spray they had issued to customers at Julie’s. Where was it? He’d been carrying it around for weeks.Damn. It was in another jacket.

It was hopeless. Roman didn’t have a clue how to fight back. His only chance was to keep the madman talking.

“I didn’t realise you were so into me,” he said, attempting to hide his fear and keep his tone soft. He looked Will straight in the eyes. “I thought you didn’t like me that much.”

“Bullshit. You knew. You thought you were too good for me…just a hot little fucker who could have any man he wanted. I wasn’t offended. The truth is I planned to kill you last October.” He snorted again. “Not sure what changed my mind about that. I liked keeping tabs on you, watching what you were up to, saving you for a later date.”

Mallon sneered something in French.

“What’s that, arsehole?” Will snarled in his ear. “Speak English, for fuck’s sake.”

“I said you’re a madman,” Mallon growled.

Will’s features softened. “Mad? No, I’m not mad. A madman would have been caught by now. After all this time, the police still don’t have a clue who I am. Could a madman do that? Be so cunning and so patient? I don’t think so.”

Roman saw a thread of hope in Will’s vanity and grabbed it. “You have been clever. Really clever, to get away with it for so long.”

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