‘I believe introductions are in order. The lady currently straddling you is not actually a hooker. Her name is Lisa Price and she is, in fact, a librarian.’
Even if he weren’t shackled and crippled, he doubted he’d be able to move.
‘I run the Los Angeles municipal library. You used to be a frequent visitor there. I always thought it was strange that you never took out any books. It wasn’t until after I found Franca that I realised why.’
She traced circles around his right nipple with the blade of the knife.
‘You left her in the children’s section.’
She switched to his left nipple.
‘She was sitting in a pink plastic chair, holding one of her soap magazines.’
Her eyes welled.
‘I said “Morning Hon,” and gave her a kiss on the cheek – that’s how we greeted each other. Her skin was like ice. I thought she’d fallen asleep sitting up so I gave her a little shake…and then she fell over.’
She took a deep breath.
‘I turned her over onto her back so I could start CPR, and that’s when I saw the blood. She was wearing her favourite dress – just like the one Giselle wore in The Sands of Time – but there were two great big red smears on the front. I have no idea why I did it to this day, but I pulled the dress up and,’ she took another deep breath as tears coursed down her cheeks, ‘her breasts were gone.’ She scowled. ‘You cut off her breasts. Why would you do that?’
She screamed. Her accomplice, if she could be called that, bent down and comforted her.
‘Take it easy, Sweetie. Remember who we’re doing this for.’
The Librarian swiped away her tears with her palm.
‘For Franca, and she wouldn’t want to see me like this.’
‘Why?’
‘Because she’d be afraid, and I don’t want her to be afraid anymore.’
‘That’s right, you don’t. I don’t want anyone to be afraid anymore, that’s why I’ve been doing this for so long, and that’s why I brought him here for you, so you know what to do.’
‘I know what to do.’
‘Good girl.’ She patted The Librarian on the head, got up and went over to the cabinet. The Librarian flashed a frighteningly forced smile as her mentor took out a small bottle of what looked like eye drops.
She bent down and put the bottle into The Librarian’s hand.
What she put on his lid and lashes didn’t feel like eye drops. It wasn’t even a liquid. She opened his eye again and pressed the lid against his brow bone until it hurt. She repeated the process with his right eye.
‘Super-fast adhesive, just in case you’re wondering,’ said her mentor, ‘Atlas Grip to you and me. Franca got to see everything you did to her, according to the medical examiner. It’d be a travesty if we let you keep your eyes closed.’
His heart hammered as The Librarian cut into him, slicing through tissue with great care and precision. There would be no pleasant daydreams to carry him away this time.
‘That’s good, Sweetie; now show him.’
The Librarian nodded and held up the quivering slice of meat that had been his left breast, waving it back and forth like a fisherman displaying his catch.
‘Good. Now throw it over there and start on the other one.’
The Librarian flung the breast into the air. In what he was deathly certain was a case of karmic justice, it hit the toilet seat on its way down to the floor. The Librarian began cutting into his right breast, with the same care and precision, while her mentor coached her through it.
‘You’re doing a wonderful job, Sweetie. Now, we’ve already gotten rid of the evidence, so what comes next? Can you remember?’
The Librarian stopped cutting, leaving the knife in his breast while she considered her words.
‘I’m going to kill him, then we’re going to make it look like there was a struggle, you’re going to knock me out, then you’re going to call the station.’
‘And?’
‘And then I’m going to confess.’
‘Because?’
‘Because I’ll probably get a slap on the wrist when I tell them who he is and why I killed him.’
‘That’s right.’
Sweat poured down his face as The Librarian started cutting again. The Woman, The Cop, looked him in the eye and smiled.
‘It’s rather precious, how easy it is to dupe so-called intelligent people. They live their whole lives secure in the knowledge that no one is ever going to put one over on them. It’s that confidence that kills a lot of them, because they rely so heavily on their gargantuan intellects that they ignore their instinct.’
She went over to the cabinet.
‘Nearly there, Sweetie?’ she called.
Deep in concentration, The Librarian didn’t look up.
‘Almost done.’
‘Good.’
The Librarian flopped forward, landing face down in the fibrous cavern she had fashioned. She was now sporting a grotto herself, but hers had an exit, and was in the back of her head.
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