Read Human Frailty, a Detective Mike Bridger novel Page 16

  Chapter Fifteen

  "This is how it's going to work, I'm going to ask you some questions, and you’re going to answer them. After that, I am going to tell you a story. A story that you could have been a part of, but you were not. This story will bring you right up to date, then it will end, right here in this room. I have already written the ending, you will follow the script; there will be no room for improvisation on your part. Tomorrow we will begin".

  He pressed stop on the recording device; he thought he had delivered that little speech with the gravitas it deserved. All he had to do was to splice it into the live feed and start the loop. Of course, he had distorted his voice; he could not run the risk of anyone recognizing him when this was underway. It would take a while for this to play out.

  Pushing play, he looked at the monitor, he could see her head rise up as his voice flowed through the speaker, she looked confused at first, but by the third or fourth loop of his speech, she was once again struggling against her bonds.

  Good, he thought to himself, she would be in the right mood tomorrow for her first curtain call.

  Standing up and scratching his tired eyes he smiled to himself, it had been a long few weeks. He had moved quickly once he had realised that what he had planned would be possible. Everything was now in place, he had constructed the set meticulously, his best creation yet.

  It was not hard to set up the live feed; all he needed was a computer and an Internet connection. The world would be watching as he righted the wrongs of the past. That would make it so much sweeter. The world that only looked at him as broken and damaged as a child, the world that had then promised to give him so much just too cruelly take it away. The darkness was dictating his life from where it had set up camp inside his mind. Tomorrows forecast was predicting a storm of such proportions that nothing would be able to stand up to it. The demon was in for a rough ride on his way back to hell.

  He went through to the next room to check on his leading man. He found him still lying on the floor sniveling, the pathetic little shit. Ben had not really moved since landing his role, choosing instead to get into character early and spend his time practicing his method acting. Ben's interpretation of a pathetic, cowardly, scared little man was breathtaking. He had taken it to the extreme. He would play an excellent role when the time came. It was exactly what he wanted from him. Moving up close to him, he whispered in his ear. "Tomorrow father, you will find out what you have done to me, how I have lived my life with the legacy you left me. How I have suffered, how I have battled with the demon you invited into my life. Tomorrow the final act will play out, I will be free..., and you will be dying. It will not be quick, it will take a while, you will not enjoy it.... Mother is here to see to that".

  Ben just stared back, an uncomprehending look in his glassy eyes. He looked stoned or drugged, snot dribbling from his nose. A small amount of dried blood caked on his forehead.

  What a waster you turned out to be, Dad, he thought, as he shut the door behind him and went it into the early evening, whistling a tune as he went.