The Darkness Inside: Writer's Cut by John Rickards Read Free Book Online Page B

had a fucking hard-on like you wouldn’t believe by then.
    “Oh, but you didn’t want to hear about that, right?” Williams said, glancing at me.  
    I locked eyes with him coldly, flatly. Kept my arms folded. Said nothing.
    Disappointment washed across his face. His mouth took on a slightly petulant, unfairly put-upon pout. “Anyway, I kept her for a day or two, but eventually she just broke, so I had to get rid of her. So I wrapped her up in cloth and buried her near the beach a couple of nights later. Shame the bitch didn’t last longer.”
    I let the room fall silent, making sure Williams has finished. I uncrossed my arms and said, “What kind of cloth did you wrap her in?”
    He laughed. “Why the fuck would I remember that?”
    “Come on, Cody. Your memory seems pretty clear to me. You must’ve replayed the whole thing plenty of times in your mind over the years. So tell me, what kind of cloth did you wrap her in?”
    “That’s all you’re going to ask? You don’t want to know why I took her, what I was thinking when I did?” He sighed and slouched back in his seat, apparently baffled.
    “I’m not asking that because there’s no point,” I told him. “There’s no rational thought process there. So one day you’re feeling horny and decide to do something about it; rational thought would have said to get a hooker, or go try your luck with the women in the nearest bar. But you didn’t. Rational thought would have told you Kerry Abblit was a thirteen-year-old girl and that what you were about to do was so far off the scale that you barely class as a human being any more. But you did it anyway. I don’t understand that and I never will, nor will anyone else. You’re a fucking alien to me. No point trying to figure you out if it’s impossible. And there are hundreds of guys just like you all over the country, so it’s not like you’re anything special. So, yeah, all I want to know is what kind of cloth you wrapped her in.”
    Williams flicked his hair out of his eyes. “There ain’t that much different between us, Agent Rourke.”
    “Yeah, right .”
    “It doesn’t take much to turn you into me. And in any case, you and I have got other similarities.”  
    I said nothing.
    He coughed a couple of times, then sniffed hard. Another rattling noise from somewhere inside his throat. He swallowed. “The cloth was a kind of beige. An old sheet I was saving for rags in my garage. Anything else? You already found her, right. How much more could you want to know?”
    “Nothing that comes to mind.”
    “Then I guess we’re done for today.” He spluttered again. “I’ll tell you about one of the others tomorrow.”
    Without saying another word, I left him sitting alone in the empty visiting room. The door swished shut behind me and once again I was standing in the slightly synthetic air of Outer Control, away from his poisonous presence. I wanted a bath, a long one. I wanted to get drunk and forget all about the guy. Agent Downes swung off her chair behind the security desk and said, “How did it go?”
    “Okay, more or less.” She must have seen me come close to leaving early on in the interview, but she didn’t mention it, so neither did I. “Williams seems to be willing to give up as much detail as we want — at least for the time being.”
    “Really? That was quick.”
    “It’s not as good as it sounds. He wants to talk about all the victims, not just the four we’re interested in, so I guess I’ll have to put up with another couple of days of him reliving past glories before we get anything immediately useful.” I ran my hands through my hair. “Did he explain to his lawyer at all why he suddenly agreed to do this? I know he wasn’t playing ball with you; why change just because it’s me he’s talking to?”
    She shrugged and rolled her shoulders, working some life back into them as we made for the exit. “No idea,” she said. “Probably because you worked on the case