Deity

all that precious youth.’

‘Youth is wasted on the young — that it? Well, like you, I already had my go round.’

‘And did you piss it all away?’

‘Of course. Everyone does,’ said Brook. ‘One way or another. That’s how it is. That’s why we can never look back without regret. How did I miss that opportunity? Why did I let myself get blown off-course? It’s called drift. That’s what teenagers do because they have all the time in world. And sure, they’re wrong about that, but so what? We all were. And as a result, we don’t waste time later in our lives because now we know we have less of it.’

‘Drift? All that potential, all that energy lost in an orgy of sex and booze and drugs. Too stupid to see how to grab life by the hand.’

‘That’s experience talking,’ said Brook. ‘Experience of wasting your best years. That doesn’t mean you should take somebody else’s as recompense. I know the young have it all. And they’re too weak to know it won’t last. That’s how it has to be — so they can waste it, like every generation before them and then spend the rest of their lives wondering how it happened.’

Ray smiled. ‘You do understand.’

‘About weakness?’ Brook hesitated. ‘I’ve encountered it.’

‘Weakness? The young aren’t weak, Damen. They’re sinners. They offend God. They’ve taken the deadliest of the Seven Deadly Sins and used it as their personal mantra.’

‘Vanity.’ Brook nodded.

Ray pointed an emphatic finger. ‘Exactly. These idiots think the universe revolves around them, but they lack the experience and confidence to cope when they finally realise it doesn’t. That’s the flaw, their Achilles heel. And that’s the moment, the exact second, when I have to be there. It’s a drug to me. That delicious instant when it dawns on them that the world no longer cares about them, that nobody is going to bail them out. “Boo hoo — I’m not going to be famous. Boo hoo — I’m going to be one of the nobodies I used to sneer at”. Broken heart — tough. Fallen out with your friends, lost your job, can’t afford the latest phone — life’s a bitch.’

‘So they have to die?’

Ray grinned. ‘Yes, they do — and they deserve it for being so unprepared. And it’s so wonderful to be there to help them escape that first setback, that thunderbolt that tells them how ordinary they are. And know what? They’re even grateful. When the knowledge hits, I can give them what’s beyond their grasp.’

‘Fame,’ said Brook softly.

Ray nodded. ‘It’s a trade-off. I give them the attention, the validation they want; they give me what I want. It’s a small price to pay to rise above the anonymity of the masses.’

‘And that’s what Adele wanted?’

‘Above all things, Damen. So bad she could taste it. She couldn’t take the chance she might go through life unheard. You heard her manifesto. Magnificent, wasn’t it? What a talent. Just watch the clamour for her thoughts now.’

They’re dead, you know. ‘It’s not their fault, Ray. Adele, Kyle, Becky. They’re not to blame for expecting their lives to run to their own agenda.’

‘I know that,’ chuckled Ray. ‘You think I don’t? That’s what makes it all the more delicious. See — they’re the innocent. That’s the drug — I’m not interested in punishing the guilty.’

‘The guilty?’

‘You, Damen. Mr and Mrs Watson. Alice Kennedy. The Blakes. You’re the guilty ones — all the parents. They’re the ones in the dock. They’re the ones who perpetrate this appalling fraud on their kids. Look at me, Mummy. Listen to my drivel. Yes, darling, of course I will. Everything you say is fascinating. Everything you do is interesting. Make it better, Mummy. Make it better, Daddy, Grandma, Grandad, primaryschool teacher. Course I will, darling, and even if I can’t, the effort I make will still make you think the sun orbits around you.’

‘Is that how your parents treated you?’ asked Brook. ‘Smothering you with their love and concern — what an ordeal for you.’ Ray didn’t appreciate the sarcasm but declined to reply. Instead, Brook went on: ‘Wait — no. Those were the parents of your friends. Those were the parents you wished you’d had so that for a brief glorious moment as a child, you might feel special. I bet those kids weren’t friends for long.’

From below the table Ray produced a gun and turned it in his hand. ‘Recognise this, Damen? I found it in the attic. What’s a British policeman doing with a gun in his attic?’

‘What are you going to do with Terri?’

‘I was asking about the gun.’

‘It’s a souvenir.’

‘Of what?’

‘A case. An opponent.’

‘A souvenir?’ Ray looked at the M9 automatic in wonder. ‘Remember that bit in Badlands when Martin Sheen allows himself to be caught on the Canadian border — when he gives one of the pursuing officers his lighter?’

Brook glanced again at the image of his daughter on the monitor.

‘Remember the contentment on Sheen’s face,’ continued Ray. ‘The peace. “Here, son, have my lighter. I’m famous. Share in my glory. Tell people about the day you caught a legendary killer and how he gave you his lighter.” ’ Ray frantically rummaged in his pockets and peered into the small shoulder bag lying on the table. ‘Now you’ve got me going. What can I give you to remember me by? It needs to be something personal. I know.’ He rummaged in a pocket and pulled out a set of keys. ‘Adele’s house keys.’ He slid them across to Brook. ‘Put ’em in your pocket, Damen. I insist.’ Brook made no move to pick them up.

‘I said put them in your pocket.’ Ray’s hand hovered over the laptop keyboard until Brook pocketed the set of three keys. ‘You’ll thank me sooner than you think. Know what you can do with them? When her mum goes out, you can nip round there and lie on Adele’s bed. That’s what her dad used to do. Just to smell her, she said. Fucking pervert didn’t even pull himself off. How wrong is that?’

‘If you’re giving out souvenirs, I’d prefer a lock of your hair,’ said Brook. ‘Or that used plaster on your neck to match against the one you left at Kyle’s. I’d treasure that.’

‘You’re good.’ Ray grinned.

‘How is your neck, by the way?’

‘Better, thanks.’ Ray removed the cap and touched the skin-coloured plaster now visible on the back of his neck. ‘Old Len certainly took a gouge out of me, the sly old fucker. Who’d have thought he had it in him?’

‘So Len’s attack wasn’t faked.’

‘Far from it. I was walking along, innocently plotting the suicides of my classmates when I felt this searing pain in my neck. Next thing I knew, I was on the ground but when I looked up at the camera, not only was it fine, it was actually filming. Then it came to me. My hand was covered in blood and I nearly had a Soylent Green moment. You know, Charlton Heston, reaching out with his dying breath. “Soylent Green is made out of people.” ’ He laughed. ‘What a fucking ham. But I managed to stop myself and it turned out perfectly.’

‘What we see and what we seem is but a dream,’ said Brook quietly.

Ray looked at him, an appreciative smile curling his lips. ‘I’m glad I prepared properly. That didn’t fool you for a minute, did it?’

‘Maybe just a minute,’ replied Brook. ‘I see you’ve got over your aversion to swearing. Don’t need to play suitable boyfriend any more, Ray?’

‘Don’t forget the tattoos.’

‘That was a nice touch.’ Brook nodded.

Ray shrugged. ‘I can’t take the credit — Terri mentioned it. See, fathers of daughters always have the easiest buttons to push. Like Adele’s father, for instance.’ He took out a mobile phone and read from the screen. ‘I’m happy now, Dad. I’d rather die than live a minute longer under your roof. Goodbye. Adele.’

‘You’ve got Adele’s SIM card,’ said Brook.

‘Kyle and Becky’s too. They’ve helped me reach out to the vulnerable.’

‘First Jake McKenzie. Now Jim Watson.’

Ray smiled. ‘I sent him that an hour ago. The phone company will probably be contacting you about it. Now,