unless of course, you can tell us where Mr Forth is.
Dredd: I told you… check his stomach.
Maker: Maybe later.
Me: But I didn’t kill him?
Maker: You keep saying, Sylvain. You keep saying. But then let me ask you this… if you didn’t kill him, how come it’s his blood all over your t-shirt?
Me: What?
Dredd (smirking): Not so cocky now, eh?
Maker: We have the DNA evidence, my son.
Me: You do? But that’s… that’s just not…
Maker: Yeah, you’re right, we don’t have it yet. But it’s only a matter of time. So why don’t you just confess and we can all go and have a beer, what do you say?
Me: I’m sorry… you don’t have it?
Maker (leaning forward conspiratorially): Well, no, not yet. But I’m sure it’s only a matter of time, and in any case, it’s just a formality. So, look, do us all a favour and make life easy for everyone. We’ll make sure we look after you, won’t we, Justin?
Dredd: I’ll send you a Christmas Card every year.
Maker: There! That’s the spirit!
Dredd (his phone ringing): Shit. (Answering) Yeah? What? (Then, exasperated): What? (Then, resigned): Yeah, yeah, all right. (Then putting his phone away and looking at Maker): Little twat’s lawyer’s here.
Maker (Amused): Really? Looks like you lucked out on this one, Jones. We’ll be back.
You know what I thought? I thought that Sylvia had come through, and despite her harsh words, had found someone to represent me, someone who could crash through the barriers and obstacles and help me out of here. And I guess, in a way, that’s what happened. But it certainly wasn’t Sylvia that engineered it, and it definitely wasn’t what I was expecting. You see, when Messrs Maker and Dredd had taken their leave of that cold room, the door swung open again and standing in the entrance was the familiar figure of Mark Forth.
Hello mate, he smiled as he parked his bulky frame on one of the chairs opposite me, laughing as it creaked under his weight. I hear you’re in a spot of bother, and that maybe you need a lawyer. Turns out I’m a lawyer, and, you know, I thought maybe I could help. I wanted to be speechless. I should have been speechless. I mean, thank Christ, I thought.
Mark. Thank Christ. You can get me out of here. Oh, thank God.
Whoa, whoa, there my friend, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Let’s have a nice chat first.
But Mark, you’re alive, and they’re telling me that they think I killed you. I mean, just tell them. Surely they know who you are? Tell them, right?
Mark smiled and studied me, and he nodded, ever so slightly. Then he sighed. Ah, Sylvain, my friend, I wish that it were so simple.
It is!
Well, you know what, I thought we were friends, I thought we were really good friends.
We are! (I was desperate, and he smiled sadly).
But, from what I have heard, you tell people that you don’t even like me.
What? No? Who said that? It’s not true… we go way back, Mark, way back! Remember all those times… (I trailed off, struggling to remember any of those times). Remember… I looked at him lamely and his ruddy cheeks and his healthy complexion and I could have cried. What do you want, then? (I felt defeated)
He smiled – I’m your lawyer!
But you told me you can’t help me!
Good point! (Mark clapped his hands). We’re just here for a chat. So… what did you do to Angel?
What?
Angel Marston, remember her?
Yes, of course I remember her!
(He looked at me seriously). Now, Sylvain, you need to be honest with me. You talked to her at the party, you started telling her stuff that goes through your head, apparently, you wouldn’t stop talking and she got a bit freaked out, and I found her, out in the garden, chain smoking cigarettes. Poor lass. Took me a while to calm her down, to be honest, Sylvain, you need to treat people more carefully. I must admit, she was very grateful, she saw the fun side in me that she was hoping to see in you. It was me that invited her to our party, to be honest, I felt sorry for you after Sylvia ditched you. I suggested it to Lou – someone from Sylvain’s work, I said, lovely girl, I’ve met her once or twice. Lou thought it was a great idea. You should be more grateful to Lou. She cares about you. What’s the matter, Sylvain? Lost your voice?
But… but… you killed her. I saw you, you were covered in blood.
(Mark sat back). But she’s fine, Sylvain. She’s back at home, I think.
No, I shouted, not Lou, I mean Angel, I saw you!
Tut, tut, Sylvain, I think you’re getting confused again. It was you that was covered in blood, not me, remember? I was just trying to clean up your mess. But, look, Sylvain, that’s not what we are here to talk about…
It isn’t?
No, no, of course not. Look, I have a few things to do, and it’s important that I get them done. That’s why I took a… leave of absence, so to speak.
That’s why you disappeared, you mean? Leaving Lou frantic with worry, wondering what the hell has happened to you!
I think she’s clear what happened. Mark was calm. She’s convinced you killed me in a jealous rage.
(I stared).
Oh, there’s lots that I know, he smiled. Now… to business.
What do you mean, to business, Mark? Seriously, what do you mean? All you need to do is go out there and talk to those policemen and tell them you’re alive and well, and then go and talk to Lou, and we can all be friends again…
(Mark sighed again). Ah, my friend, wish that it were so easy. But what would we tell them about Angel?
Well, you tell me! What happened to Angel? I saw you, I saw you… (and then I stopped because I wasn’t exactly sure what I had seen).
Saw what, Sylvain? Mark was doleful. You saw me in a hotel with her. Yes, that’s true. And even that isn’t what it seems, I wasn’t sleeping with her. You’d jump to that of course, wouldn’t you, but you’d be wrong. It was far more complicated than that…she was having real issues, I won’t bore you with the details, you could have asked her when you had the chance anyway, but she needed help.
In the middle of the night, Mark! You met her time and time again, in the middle of the night! How can that be talking about issues?
Details, Sylvain, you wouldn’t understand. The fact remains that you’re the last person to have seen her alive; in fact, you’re the last person to have seen me alive, which is not the best position for you to be in, my friend. You understand me?
Well, frankly, I didn’t understand, and I told him, again, that all he needed to do was… But he batted me away calmly. This wasn’t the Mark that I knew. The Mark I knew had his faults, many faults, that I’ve talked about many times, but he was normal. He was a corporate lawyer in a big firm, he drove a big car and lived in a big house and had a lovely wife that he didn’t deserve, he threw dinner parties and entertained guests with his funny stories and his big laugh, and yes, maybe he had an affair with a girl that he had supposedly set up with me, but he didn’t do this. He even looked different, the lines on his face were deeper, the colour of his eyes was brighter, his body was tauter, his clothes were different. Maybe this is it, I thought. Maybe this is the effect of taking G6, it’s transported me to a different universe where everything has changed. And then, I thought, what bollocks, and of course I was right – then at least.
Is Mark a serial killer?
I return to this question, for I still don’t yet have a satisfactory answer, but I am definitely leaning in direction of Yes. Mark says to me – let me explain our business. I have things to do. I’m an important man, more important than you can guess, and I don’t mean as a partner at Arnold and Company, you understand me? I need to get things done and I don’t have a lot of time, and I don’t need Miss Beryl Makepeace chasing after me. I understand she’s working freelance, as they say, on your behest, and I also understand she’s quite a determined lady. I would theref
ore very much appreciate, Sylvain, if you would be able to ask her to desist in trying to track me down. I am told that she is very persistent, and it makes my life…complicated. You’re following me, Sylvain? I would like you to ask Miss Makepeace – no, let me be clear – instruct Miss Makepeace – to stop her current project and focus on something else. You are to make it very financially attractive for her to do this. Do you follow me? I did follow Mark, but I couldn’t understand why he expected me to agree, especially as he seemed to have no intention of declaring himself alive, or of confessing to Angel’s murder.
You know, Sylvain, he continued, we go back a long way, don’t we? You remember the times we had at university? Good times, weren’t they? You know, it’s funny, I don’t really keep in touch with anyone from those days, except for you of course. How about you? Still see any of the guys from the old days? Who was it that we hung round with? Jerry and Carl and that lot, yeah, they were ok, weren’t they? I wonder what happened to them? And what about you, you little devil. All those women you chased around? Come on Sylvain, you can be honest with me, what have you got to be afraid of, it’s not like you’re married to Sylvia anymore is it? Still have a little black book with phone numbers, or a list of targets? I guess it’s not like that anymore, is it. I wouldn’t know, of course, being a happily married man, but I’m assuming it’s all social media now, all Facebook and Twitter and who’s following who and who’s done what today. I guess you can stalk people virtually, can’t you,