‘I’ll take your silence as a yes. I’ve been following your career for the last ten years. I never thought I’d find you. I was about to give up. Funny thing is, I went out last night to try to forget you for a while. That wasn’t in the stars, was it?’ She went back to the sink. ‘As soon as you bought me that drink, I knew I was going to bring you back here, but I thought you were just going to be the consolation prize. I had no idea who you really were.’
She turned her back on him. He squirmed as she rummaged through the pile in the sink. When she finally turned around, she was holding the old woman’s disco ball key ring. She held it up and spun the ball around.
‘Always loved these things. This one belonged to Moira Daniels.’
He tried to keep his eyes blank.
‘Oh, she was the last woman you did in. What you did to her almost made me sick, if that’s any consolation.’
He stared straight ahead, refusing to meet her gaze.
She spun the disco ball again.
‘If you’ve been watching the news and, I would assume you have, you’d know that the police didn’t mention this little detail at the press conference. They must’ve got an order from above not to. Didn’t want vigilantes running around, muscling every guy who carried one, no doubt. Personally, I thought it was rather a shame.’
She threw it at him.
‘They would’ve sold like hot cakes at gift shops and dime stores. Imagine; all those hard working immigrant shop keeps getting a piece of the American dream. Everyone deserves that.’
She turned back to the sink. In contrast to her low, un-rushed tone at the bar, the voice she used now as she lined up his tools on the granite vanity was chirpy, almost sing-song.
‘Of course, I dreamed of murder and mutilation rather than property and procreation, but it’s the same basic sentimental principal. I’ve known what I wanted to do with my life since I was eight years old, believe it or not.’
ns 18.68.41.146da2
