Captured by Neil Cross

Author:Neil Cross [Neil Cross]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Simon & Schuster UK

28

In the bathroom, Kenny forced Jonathan at knifepoint to strip naked and stand under the cold shower.

Jonathan cringed when the water hit him. Kenny saw the violent gooseflesh, the pale, hungry body trying to raise its hackles. The water ran dirty, then clean.

Kenny sat on the lavatory. He was caked in brown earth, probing at the oval wound in his side: the crushed mouth of a goblet, the ruby red blood.

He was shivering with adrenaline. It made the pain seem far away.

He looked up to see Jonathan crouched in the enamel bath, naked and cold. They sat there for a while, both of them shuddering, before Jonathan said, ‘This has gone too far.’

‘I know.’

‘Then just let me go. I won’t say anything, not to anybody.’

‘This isn’t about me being arrested.’

‘I need a doctor.’

‘So do I.’

‘Then call an ambulance. I’m hurt. Call a doctor.’

‘Just tell me where she is. Tell me what happened to her, and all this will be over. Just say it. Just say the words.’

‘I don’t know what happened to her.’

‘I know you’re lying.’

‘She left me. She went out one day and never came home. That’s all I know.’

‘That’s not true.’

‘I didn’t hurt her.’

‘You hit her.’

‘Once. I hit her once. It wasn’t right, and I’m not proud of it. But that’s not the same as killing her.’

‘You degraded her.’

‘How?’

‘By filming her. Privately.’

‘People do that.’

‘I don’t.’

‘No – you paint naked women for men to look at.’

‘That’s not the same thing.’

‘It was a husband and wife having sex. She didn’t object. She enjoyed it – being looked at.’

Kenny leaned over. Jonathan flinched. Kenny turned off the water and threw a towel to him. Jonathan draped it over his shoulders.

He huddled in the bath, shuddering. ‘How do you know about the films?’

‘I broke into your house,’ Kenny said. ‘I was in the attic.’

Jonathan said, ‘Jesus Christ.’

Then he said it louder. He slammed his head against the white tiled wall. He said, Oh Jesus Christ, oh Jesus Christ.

Kenny sat on the lavatory and let Jonathan exhaust himself. He watched his blood, red mixed with brown, as it plipped and plopped on the tiled floor.

Outside, the sun shone bright in the evening. It had been such a long day; it seemed to have been going on for ever.

As Jonathan wailed the name of God and his own blood formed Rorschach pools on the floor, Kenny experienced a moment of panic – that this day was never going to end, that he and Jonathan were in hell already. And this was it, this little room. There was no escaping it. They were here for ever.

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