dad wasn’t killed. I always had the possibility of him coming back into my life, no matter how remote a chance that was. But you didn’t, did you? Your dad was gone for ever. No hope to hang on to for you. And worse than that, he died a hero. A soldier’s death, dying for queen and country. That’s far too much for a teenager to live up to.
‘And then there’s all the things he lost, dying when he did. All the things he never saw, never did. The internet. iPods. Digital cameras. Cheap air fares. Google. You growing up. I suppose that’s why you got so greedy for experience. Women. Drink. Drugs. Men. Snorting, shooting up, shagging, getting shit-faced. All of it, there to be grabbed-’
‘What do you mean, men? I’m not a poof.’ His arms had unfolded, his hands gripping the side of his chair.
Bingo. The anti-retrovirals had been the clue, but even so, Tony hadn’t expected a crack in the armour so early. ‘I never said you were.’ Tony’s voice remained calm and relaxed. Hypnotic, almost. ‘I was talking about the desire for experience. I thought you wanted to experience everything? To feel it for yourself. Fearless and receptive to everything, every sensation. To take everything the world had to offer and grab it, to miss out on nothing. Am I wrong, then?’
‘Your words, not mine, Doctor.’ Anderson was doing his best to be the tough guy, but Tony could sense the anger and anguish underneath. All that pain, and nowhere to put it.
‘But I’m right. We both know that,’ he said. ‘I’m not a poof either, if that helps. It doesn’t mean I’ve not thought about what it would be like. I mean, when you’ve gone through every other experience, you do have to wonder. Would it be more of the same or would it be different?’ Time for a shift of tempo. ‘Then when your mum died-that was one experience you didn’t want to have. Didn’t want her to kill herself, didn’t want to know about that kind of despair. Didn’t want her to die, did you? How hard it must have been for her, hanging on till she thought you were sorted, and then going for it. For that one experience that nobody gets to share. She did what she could and then she clocked off. Left you to it. I’d guess if there was anything you’d missed out on before that, you went for it after she took herself off.’
Anderson shifted in his seat. ‘Have I got to listen to this amateur psychology all day?’ he burst out.
‘Nothing amateur about it, Jack. I get paid for this. So, what else was on the list? Play premiership football. Buy a house on Dunelm Drive. Make a million by the time you hit thirty. Drive a Ferrari.’ Tony could see it working. Every sentence provoked a tiny flutter of reaction. Time to step up the pressure. ‘How am I doing, Jack? How many more on the list? How many more were you planning to poison? Poison their lives like he poisoned yours?’
He drew in a ragged breath. ‘You’re talking bollocks. What does that mean? Poisoned lives? You think whoever killed these guys was using murder as a metaphor? How can you trivialize death like that? You’re sicker than the killers you’re supposed to be hunting.’
Tony shrugged. ‘You’re not the first to suggest that. But the bottom line is that I’m not a killer. You are. And the only reason you interest me or anybody else right now is because we want to know why. I think I know why, but it would be good to hear I’m right.’
‘You’re so full of shit,’ Anderson said. ‘People like you, thinking you know what drives people-you don’t have a clue.’
‘Smokescreen, Jack. It might put some people off, but not me. I’m not interested in your attempts to set up a diversion. Let’s get back to what this is really about. Your attempts to extract revenge for having your dreams stolen from you by the man who poisoned your life.’
‘I am not a poof,’ Anderson said, more loudly this time.
‘Who said anything about a poof?’ Tony said, all innocence, hands spread. ‘I was asking about your little list. About what else was on it. Three down. How many more to go? I know there’s at least one. Kevin, the Ferrari guy. Did you really think they’d sit back and let you take another one of theirs? You got Tom Cross, because we weren’t looking in the right place.’ Tony leaned forward, getting in his face, still calm but inescapable. ‘But no way were you getting Kevin Matthews.’
For the first time, Anderson looked shaken, his face startled and alert. ‘I do a bit of freelance journalism. I was interviewing him.’
‘How long did it take you to find a journalist with the right initials? Or was it seeing the real Justin Adams’s by- line that gave you the idea of how to get to Kevin?’ Tony cocked his head and appraised Anderson. ‘I’m curious, you know. Are you relieved that we’ve stopped you? Or are you pissed off because you didn’t get to finish what you started? Just out of curiosity, what was your endgame? Were you going to do the list and then stop? Live out whatever life you’ve got left? Or were you going to bottle it like your mother did?’
A muscle bunched in Anderson’s jaw. ‘I told you. It was an interview. I do some freelance journalism, OK? Then he started to freak out. I have no idea why. You should be asking where he was before he arrived at my place. Whatever he took, he must have taken it there. I don’t know what you’re on about. Poison, gay sex? That’s not my world.’
Tony was about to speak, but Carol’s voice in his ear made him pause. ‘Tony, I’ve just had a message from the CSIs. They’ve found his list, taped underneath the keyboard of his computer. The two you don’t have are, “Make a chart CD” and “Date a top model”. You got that?’
He nodded. ‘Oh yes it is, Jack. Kevin and his Ferrari. Also on your little list. So who was going to be next? Which of Bradfield’s charting artistes were you going to take down? Or were you going for the guy with the model girlfriend? Let me think, who do we have from Bradfield who’s got a top catwalk chick? That would have to be Deepak, wouldn’t it? Our homegrown fashion designer. Was he on the list too?’
Anderson’s eyebrows had drawn closer, creating a shallow vertical crease between them. Anxiety, that’s what Tony was going for now. Make him anxious. Make him uneasy. Shift the ground beneath his feet. And then offer him comfort.
‘They’re very upset about Kevin, you know? He’s popular around here. What was it going to be this time? Monksbane? Foxglove? Strychnine? I tell you, you hit on an elegant idea there. Poison. Poison their lives the way he poisoned yours.’ And suddenly, he knew. The repetition, designed to unsettle Anderson, had opened the door for Tony. It was a leap, he knew. But it was a leap that made perfect sense.
He folded his hands together on the table and let the pity he felt flow out. ‘Just one time. That’s all it took. You wanted to taste everything, wanted to know everything. But it wasn’t like all the other times when you pushed the boundaries and had fun, was it? You hated it. Because you’re right. You’re not a poof. You thought it would be OK, but you hated it. Hated it so much it made you hate yourself. That’s when you stopped being Jack, wasn’t it? Jack was ruined, fucked up. So you left Jack behind. You knew that being dead meant saying goodbye to the past, so you did. Jack became John and sometimes Jake. You still had your dreams, though. Still had the list. Still believed you could make the climb.’
