Before She Knew Him(53)

“What was it like?” Matthew said.

“It was fucking awful. He was confused, and scared, and his brain was coming out of his head.”

Hearing the words, Matthew’s stomach turned over. He’d worried about that, worried that he’d broken through the skull the final time he hit Scott Doyle. He shook the feeling off and said, “Then he had two seconds of fear and confusion. Michelle Brine has felt a lot more than that.”

“Who’s Michelle Brine?”

Matthew stopped himself from saying more. He’d told himself before meeting with Hen that he needed to be careful about providing any information that she could use to prove that her side of the story was true. He wasn’t sure Michelle fit into that category, but he wanted to be careful.

“She doesn’t matter,” he finally said, then quickly added, “I am very sorry that you had to witness what you witnessed. I never would have done it if I’d known that would happen. You do understand that, don’t you?”

“Not really.”

“You’re not a bad person. I would never hurt you.”

“What if you suddenly decided that I was a bad person? Wouldn’t that change things?”

“I would still never hurt you. I would never hurt a woman.”

Hen spontaneously smiled, her brow creasing. For a moment Matthew thought she was going to laugh at him. “You don’t think there’d be a woman bad enough for you to want to kill?”

“No, there wouldn’t be. Of course not. I know what you’re thinking, that I’ve got some savior complex, that I’m going to save all the innocent females of the world from the big bad wolves. I’m not an idiot. I know that’s part of it. My dad was a monster and my mother was his victim, and that’s why I think the way I do. I’ve psychoanalyzed myself far more and far deeper than you or anyone else could. I know what I am.”

“But—”

“But the truth is that men hurt women far more than women will ever hurt men. It’s just a fact. And . . . and I would never hurt you not just because you’re a woman, but also because you’re a decent human being. I know that.”

“So, if you believe that, if you believe I’m a decent human being, then maybe you’ll listen to me. I think you should turn yourself in, confess to the police. Tell them what you told me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Don’t you want to stop what you’re doing? Isn’t that why you’re here, talking with me? You must feel guilt.”

“I don’t feel guilt. I’m here talking with you because I thought you might understand.”

“I don’t. I don’t understand. I’m sorry. I think you’ve developed a bogus moral code, a story you tell yourself so that you can do what it is that you like to do. You like to kill people. It’s obvious.”

“I do,” he said. “I like to kill people.” A shiver went over Matthew’s skin, a ripple starting at his back and going up to the base of his skull. It felt so good to say the words. “I would never pretend that it isn’t part of it. I’m not delusional.”

Hen sighed. “I think I should go.”

“Don’t you like it when you’ve created a piece of art? Something disturbing. Doesn’t it give you a perverse thrill?”

“It’s entirely different. My art doesn’t hurt people. It’s just art.”

“It’s not just art, really, though, is it? It’s revealing a part of yourself.”

Hen rapidly shook her head. “All it’s revealing is my imagination, something entirely removed from reality. I can separate the two, and you can’t. That’s the difference between us.”

“Okay,” Matthew said. “Think about what I’ve said, though. You’d probably like killing, if you ever tried it.”

“I wouldn’t, trust me.”

“Are you going to tell the police what I said today?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“They won’t believe you.”

“I know that, but I think you’re going to get caught. And when they do catch you, I’ll go to them and tell them everything.”

“Does your husband know we’re meeting here today?”

“I’ll probably tell him about it,” Hen said, and Matthew thought it was the first time she’d lied since sitting down across from him.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Matthew said, and then witnessed a look of concern pass across Hen’s features. “No, don’t worry. I have no designs on Lloyd, but, still, he doesn’t deserve you.”

“You don’t even know him.”

“He came to my house for dinner. I watched him, and I could tell that he has no real moral compass. Whenever Mira left the dining room or came back in, he watched the way she moved. He probably imagined having sex with her.”

“Jesus. All right, I should go.” Hen slid along the booth.

“Can I ask you one thing? When you first got involved with him, was he with someone else?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Clearly, he was. People don’t change, Hen. He’s cheating on you, but you probably already knew that.”