Simon shrugs his shoulders. I feel like killing him, right there and then, with my bare hands. Talking of motive, I have real motive, for sure - the lanky shit really pissed me off. But I am a guest. Simon regrets his shrug, I can tell, for he quickly continues to - or at least tries to - give some sort of explanation. "We know less about Spartacus than any other killer, with the exception - possibly - of Jack the Ripper. But Jack had it easy. He was in the right place at the right time. There was no DNA, no cameras, an abundance of dimly lit alleyways, and most of London at the time had a drinking problem. But I digress. Most of what we know about Spartacus is merely speculation, based on circumstantial evidence, law of averages and, probably most significantly, common sense, or lack of it. I suspect the Roman numerals tell us more about his motives than anything..."
I have an urge to rub my hand over my chest, along the outline of my scars, my dark secret. It itches. I resist the temptation to scratch. "What are the Roman numerals about?" I ask. "Surely it is for show? He only killed six people. It can't be that difficult to keep count, can it?"
Simon smirks. I wish he wouldn't. His eyes penetrate into the hollows of my own eyes. I wonder what he sees. "Have you ever been a bit of a stud, Marcus?" he asks. "Slept around a bit?"
"What the fuck is wrong with you?"
Simon holds his hands up in protest. "Let me explain. I think, for Spartacus, it might merely be notches on his bed post. The ultimate sign of disrespect. His way of saying that I've killed somebody - but you know what - it didn't really mean anything. Just another number. He is trivialising the murders. Just a bit of fun..."
"Just a bit of fun? He killed innocent people, most with their whole lives ahead of them. How can it just be fun?"
"I know. I know. Don't shoot the messenger. It is just my theory. But that is what - for me - makes Spartacus more terrifying than any killer. If what drives him is excitement - if it really is just a big game - then just how dangerous does that make him...?"
I want to wipe the excited smile from his face. I shake my head to show him that I'm not convinced. Really, though, I've never been so convinced by anything my whole life. If Simon were to tell me right now that the world was flat, that if I kept walking and walking then eventually I'd drop over the edge and into an abyss, then I'd make damn sure I walked on the spot, or maybe in a circle. Now, I doubt I really knew Spartacus at all. I thought I was morbidly obsessed at the time of the killings, but this is real obsession. My fingers twitch. I have no idea what is going to happen to me. I do know, however, that it is going to be much worse than what happened last time, and I never even thought that was possible.
"So why did he suddenly stop killing?"
"Possibly because he got bored. The eighth ride of the roller coaster will never be as exciting as the first. Maybe he'd completed the challenge? No longer gave him the buzz he sought? On the other hand, maybe you were the game changer? It is quite possible - and perfectly logical - that nearly getting caught made him rethink this whole adventure of his."
I look away. I'm getting answers, much more than I've had before, and so I'm keen to keep asking questions. "If it is him, then what has he been doing all this time? How could he disappear off the face of the earth and then suddenly reappear thirty years later?"
"He's probably capable of doing whatever he wants to do. The most logical answer is that he's been doing whatever he chose to do. That could be something, or it could be nothing. I very much doubt that he is driven in any way by what others expect of him. He might fit perfectly into society, but probably only to deflect suspicion. And so, he could have been doing absolutely anything..."
"That's kind of general," I reply, trying to keep my voice level. "If he is back, then why? And why now? It has been thirty years, for God's sake!"
"We don't know he's back, though, do we? As far as we're aware, even if it is him, he hasn't killed anybody, has he? Yet. He's only been playing with you. And he's already had ample opportunity to kill you. You'd be dead now if he wanted you dead, we both know that." His eyes flicker. He is contemplating whether to add any more. "Unless..."
"Unless?"
"Unless he is bored of the way he killed people before. It just isn't exciting enough. Unless he wants to do things differently. Make the game more interesting: add new dimensions. Now, the dates he made contact are interesting, aren't they? There actually is a pattern there. If I were a betting man - and I'm not - then I would wager that he wants to do things differently, really savour the experience and take his time. It sounds like he has already set a date..."
30th June.
I sense Spartacus is totally in control of everything that happens from here. I am a
