Son of a Serial Killer (15 page)

46

Ben walked along the corridor and stepped into the
red room, the room where his father would not only come to do the paperwork for his business, but the place he came to shut himself away from the troubles that had surrounded his life in recent years.

It saddened Ben to see what his mother had done t
o this room. She had created some kind of sick and twisted hell-hole of a shrine, an overdose of the colour red with pictures and articles serving as reminders of the deaths that had plagued this city over the years. What was his mother thinking when decorating part of her home like that? She’d destroyed one man's hide-away, to create another person’s place of worship to the devil.

He saw his reflection in the mirr
or hung on the back of the door and didn't recognise the menacing smile that came back at him as his own, but as the smile that belonged to the monster that had been growing within, the monster that had been planted inside of him at birth and flourished throughout his life until finally, just days ago, had taken control, even if for just those few moments and taken lives.

Ben knew that he and the monster were one, and would grow more so over time. He remembered sitting on the girl, under the bridge, her head battered to pieces beneath him, her blood on his hands and sprayed onto his face, he remembered
how good he felt, how free.

But he wasn't free.

It’s the man in the mirror who was becoming free, and although Ben had crossed that line between good and evil for a brief moment, he knew that it wasn't right to let this carry on. He had to stop the man in the mirror, that monster within, that genetic flaw causing all these problems. He had to stop himself.

Ben pocketed
the key from the inside of the red room door and stepped back out into the corridor, and then, carrying the plastic bag, he made his way upstairs.

He
stepped into his old bedroom, the place he had always felt at home, the room where he played with his toys and imagined he was in another world and did all the things that innocent young children would do when they had their own room and no siblings to play with. He realised how his imagination had blossomed when spending that much time on his own.

Nothing had really changed in his bedroom since he had moved out. There were still posters of his preferred rock bands and movies on the wall, still the same bed sheets and curtains. The only real difference had been the extra books and boxes that had been dumped into the room that wasn't really used for anyth
ing anymore except storage.

Ben made his way to the big window and pulled it open, letting the fresh air
from above the garden flood the room.

He looked down and saw the cat that his mother had hated for so long, rolling around in the grass towards the back of the lawn, then
he realised that it wasn't rolling around for fun, or relaxing in the limited sunshine that the day had brought, it was struggling. The cat had been investigating the new substance in the garden, maybe eaten or inhaled too much, and its body wasn't coping with the toxicity that came smuggled within the powder.

Ben didn't know about the poison, as he watched the cat fight for its last breath, clawing it's way under a bush where it seemed to give up one of its nine lives, maybe it's last, but he knew his mother was to blame for the demi
se of this cat, just like he now knew that his mother was to blame for the deaths of many others.

He placed his bag down o
n the small table by the window and stepped up onto to it to take a look at the hinges joining the window to the main window frame. He gave it a shake, there was hardly any movement. It was strong enough. He pulled out of the bag a length of rope and tied one end around the window frame, triple-knotting it for efficiency.

Ben
stepped back down onto the carpeted floor and took his phone from his pocket along with Detective Inspector Summers' card and the two envelopes.

He dialled the mobile phone number printed on the card.

The phone rang...

47

Just twenty minutes into the stakeout and Kite was already bored, half-snoozing behind the steering wheel. He jolted to life when Summers' phone started ringing. She didn't know the number and turned off the radio before pressing the 'Answer' button.

‘
DI Summers,’ she said.

‘
Hello, detective,’ said Ben.

Summers thought she recognised the voice but had to confirm.

‘Err, hello. Who is this please?’ she asked, before fumbling with the phone and turning it onto speaker mode.

‘
It's Ben, Ben Green,’ said the voice on the other end of the phone. ‘You said to call if I had any information that may help you in your enquiries, so, well, here I am, calling.’

Kite opened his mouth to speak but Summers reacted quickly an
d placed her hand over his lips. This was her show, she was in charge. Kite leant across her, gently opened the glove box and pulled out a digital audio recording device. Summers was happy to see Kite had come prepared. He pressed record, and Summers went on with the conversation.

‘
And what is it you'd like to tell me, Mr Green? What information do you have for me?’ asked Summers. ‘Would you like us to collect you? We could go to the station and talk about things.’

‘
Oh no, that's ok, there'll be no need for that,’ replied Ben. ‘In fact, I think I know exactly who The Phantom is, and I may be able to get you a confession. Would you like that?’

Summers a
nd Kite looked at each other, 'is this guy for real?'

‘
Go on,’ said Summers.

‘
Firstly,’ Ben continued, ‘I am not The Phantom. I know you think it's me, but it's not.’

‘
Ok,’ said Summers.

‘
But, I am not innocent,’ said Ben. ‘I've got some problems in my head and sometimes I do crazy things.’

‘
That's ok, Mr Green. We all do crazy things sometimes, it’s normal,’ said Summers, ‘we can get you help for that, Ben. I can call you Ben? Is that ok?’

Ben chuckled lightly.

‘It doesn't matter what you call me. But I'm beyond help, that's for sure,’ he said. ‘I have a letter for you, which is a confession to my sins, my crimes, and I believe I am in a position to get a confession from The Phantom, too.’

‘
What crimes, Ben? What have you done?’ she asked.

‘
Oh, well, I suppose I can tell you now,’ said Ben. ‘I killed a couple of kids under the bridge the other day. And I'm about to commit my third murder.’

'Call for back-up
,' mimed Summers to Kite, who quietly stepped out of the vehicle and called into the station.

‘
Don't do anything silly, Ben,’ pleaded Summers.

‘
It’s too late for that, detective,’ he said. ‘There are things that you wouldn't understand.’

‘
Try me,’ she replied.

Ben laughed again down the phone.

‘Just listen, please,’ continued Ben, not giving up on leading the conversation. ‘Do you have a pen, I'm gonna give you an address. At this address you'll find what you've been looking for.’

Kite slipped back into the driver's seat and held four fingers up to Summers. They'd be waiting four minutes before any back-up would arrive.

‘Yes, I have a pen.’

‘
The address is twenty-five George Street, on the Northchurch estate,’ he said.

‘
Ok, I know the area,’ she said, very honestly, as she sat pretty much outside the house they were talking about. This amused Kite, who even at this late stage in the game retained his sense of humour.

‘
So here is the deal, I give you a signed confession to three murders, and right now, I'll get a confession from the one you really want, The Phantom,’ stated Ben.

‘
And what do you want from me, Ben?’ she asked.

‘
There is another letter,’ he replied. ‘All I ask is that you deliver it personally, to the addressee. She deserves an explanation.’

‘
That seems fair, Ben,’ said Summers.

‘
It’s the least I could do,’ said Ben, trying hard to remain strong in his darkest hour. ‘Now just stay on the phone, listen, and I'll see what I can do for you.’

‘
Just don't do anything stupid, Ben,’ again Summers pleaded. ‘There's already been too much blood shed.’

B
ut Ben wasn't listening anymore. He had the phone by his side as he made his way back down the stairs.

48

Ben was nervous as he stepped back into the kitchen. He didn't even notice that for the first time since his mother and his girlfriend had met, they were actually having a fairly civilised conversation, no matter how much it was staged by the two of them.

Not that it would matter for much longer.

Ben paced nervously up and down the kitchen, wondering how to approach the subject that weighed down on his mind so relentlessly, asking himself if he had the courage to do what needed to be done for this whole sorry mess to be dealt with, then he looked out of the window and saw the cat, lifeless under the bush.

He turned to his mother.

‘The cat's dead, mum,’ he said, dry toned.

Mrs Green turned to her son and grinned.

‘I knew you'd like that,’ she said.

‘
Not really,’ he replied. ‘You see, I don't enjoy killing things, mum. Not like you.’

Mrs Green, although feeling the effects of the alcohol that she was constantly pouring into her system,
and the lack of decent sleep, didn't miss the sour tone in her son's voice.

‘
What is it, Ben?’ she asked. ‘Come and sit down.’

With his back to the women, Ben pulled out a large and dirty knife from the kitchen sink, and slipped it up his sleeve before stepping back to the table and placing the phone near his mother.

Natalie noticed the sweat starting to form on her fiancées forehead. What on earth is going on? She thought to herself, wanting to go home and plan her future with the money she was soon to be stealing from the tortured soul that stood in front of her.

‘
You know, mum,’ he said, ‘the police found some evidence on one of the dead bodies, some red hair apparently.’

Mother and son looked at each other.
He knew. She knew.

‘
It's you, isn't it?’ he said.

Mrs Green grinned.

‘You got me,’ said Mrs Green, not taking it as seriously as Ben would have liked, not a shred of remorse was shown.

‘
You killed Charlie, and then you tried to convince me that I did it. That I'd done it and gone mad and not known what I'd been doing, like a right lunatic?’

Natalie was just catching on to what the two were talking about. She shifted slightly in her seat, not believing what she was hearing.

‘He was a fucker, that Charlie,’ protested Mrs Green, ‘and you needed a push. It's you and me now, Ben, mother and son, seeing out our destiny together.’

‘
Destiny? Killing people?’ he yelled at her. ‘We're fucking ill, mum. Look at us. And dad? You were lying to me, why would you talk that nonsense about him? He was a good man.’

‘
You would never have joined me,’ she replied, ‘unless you thought it was your father that gave you these damaged genes, this poisoned blood. Then I knew you’d accept it. You always loved him more than me, Ben. You always wanted to be like him.’

‘
Fucking surprised are you? You're nuts, mum, fucking mad,’ he screamed, struggling to control his emotions, understandably in the present situation.

Natalie was stunned, completely shocked. She still couldn't believe her ears, which was unfortunate, as staying in a room with two people who were talking about murder and getting increasingl
y aggravated wasn't a good idea. She needed to believe the words she’d heard. It would have been best.

‘
And when he died,’ continued Ben, ‘what happened? Did he jump in front of that bus?’

Mrs Green
sighed and took a large gulp of the wine that sat in front of her. It was time to tell her son the truth, the whole truth, if she really wanted him to join her on the 'dark side'.

‘
He'd caught me off guard. Shouting at me for drinking wine in the morning again, threatening to leave. Then he saw what I was doing, went bonkers he did.’

‘
Saw what you were doing? What? What were you doing?’ demanded Ben.

Mrs Green shrugged her shoulders.

‘Cleaning my knife,’ she said. ‘I'd forgotten to do it the night before. He caught me washing the blood off at the sink.’

‘
And so you told him, you told him that you'd murdered someone?’ he asked.

‘
I didn't really have to, Benjamin. He'd found the pictures and news stories I'd collected on The Phantom over the years. He knew I'd go out at strange hours, and then with the knife, I guess it finally clicked. He shouted for a bit then stormed out of the house. I guess it was all too much. He was a weak man.’

‘
Weak?’ Ben yelled.

Natalie knocked her chair as she tried to ease her way out of her seat, finally realising that this was not the place for her to be.

‘You stay there!’ screamed Ben, pointing for her to stay seated. It was the first time Natalie had ever been scared of Ben, maybe the first time she had felt genuine fear in her life.

Tears began streaming down Ben's face.

‘Now, now, Benjamin,’ said Mrs Green, holding out her hand toward her son. ‘We're all together now, me, you, the baby, and Natalie. We can live the life we were meant to. No more secrets, being what we were born to be. It's in our blood, you know that.’

‘
Yeah, I know, mum, you'd like that wouldn't you?’ he said. ‘You, me and Ben Junior, going out after dark, like a pack of wolves. Stabbing anyone that gets in our way.’

Ben turned to Natalie, scared stiff and frozen to her seat. Then he turned
back to his mum, who was so occupied in her own world that she hadn't the faintest idea that her son was lost to her forever.

‘
We're a family, mum, but a family of animals. Of fucking mutants,’ said Ben. ‘We share a gene that plays with our mind and makes us think about killing others for fun, like it's a game. But it’s gonna stop. Right now, I gotta stop the blood line.’

Ben
stepped towards Natalie, grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head back.

‘
Sorry, Nat,’ he whispered, his tears falling onto her cheeks, ‘but the baby's gotta go.’

Ben let the knife slip from his sleeve and tightened his grip
around the handle. He stuck the blade full-force into the stomach of the woman he once dreamed of spending the rest of his life with, and then yanked it upwards until it wedged in at the join of her ribcage. The pain was clear on Natalie’s face, in her voice as she screamed.

Gasping for air, N
atalie managed a few last words.

‘
But, Ben, I'm not really pregnant,’ she said.

She fell silent, and
Ben realised he had just killed Natalie for the wrong reason, but the adrenaline was pumping, and the man in the mirror had enjoyed it, even if it saddened Ben a little.

‘
What have you done?’ yelled his mother, ‘We don't kill our own!’

‘
Is that right, mum?’ he asked. ‘Don't worry, I won’t be killing you.’

He took a step closer to his mother and towered above her.

‘Because of you, my dad is dead,’ he said. ‘You'd been killing him for as long as I can remember. And as for being The Phantom, you're gonna pay for your crimes.’

And with that, Ben punched his mother square in the face, kn
ocking her onto the floor, not fully-conscious. He picked her up under the shoulders and dragged her out of the kitchen and into the red room. He dumped her on the carpet and took one last look at the woman it turned out he had never truly known.

‘
They'll be someone here for you soon enough, mum. Good luck,’ he said.

Ben left the room and locked the door behind him, before making his
way up the stairs.