How to Kill Men and Get Away With It(54)

‘I suppose you want to know what this is about, don’t you?’

‘Please stop. Please.’

‘Hmm. I think that’s what my best friend said to you last night. You didn’t stop, did you? So I don’t think I will either.’

There’s a lot of blood, it really all heads down there when they’re hard.

It doesn’t take long to saw it off completely. Archie is sobbing like a baby as I hold it close to his face.

‘Theo,’ he tries to shout.

‘They won’t hear you, darl. We’ve sadly had a couple of man-overboard incidents.’

‘Please, please don’t kill me,’ he pleads. ‘I’ll change. I promise. I’ll give money to rape charities. I’ll give money to your friend. I’ll go to the police.’ He looks desperately at his cock, which I’m still dangling in front of him. ‘Can you put that on ice or something?’

‘Sorry, no.’

Instead, I throw the severed penis next to him on the bed and go back up on the main deck to enjoy the view. I have a couple more glasses of Champagne from a bottle I opened and look up at the sky. It’s totes a cliché but you really don’t appreciate how beautiful all the stars and other space shit is in London. And it really does make you feel small and insignificant. Well, it’s made Theo, Freddie and Archie insignificant anyway.

I go and check on the patient after about half an hour and he’s got that dead sheen/dead eyes thing going on. Not much effort at all really was old Archie. It is an effort however to wrap his body up in the blood-soaked sheets and drag it up on deck. Then I hurl Archie into the sea, followed by his penis. I quickly go below deck one last time, to wipe the finger marks from the glasses, etc. I catch a glimpse of myself in one of the full-length mirrors. Luckily, my dress is dark red (see, I plan ahead), but there is blood all over my arms and legs. Annoyingly, I take a quick shower, which I then have to clean too. I grab one of Archie’s pink blazers from his wardrobe to throw over the dress.

Then I go back to the wheel and use the navigation app on my phone to return the boat to the harbour, where I tie it up and head to the hotel.

When I’m in my room, I change out of my bloody clothes, shoving them in a bag at the back of the wardrobe, and slide into bed next to Tor.

Then I fall asleep.

The next day, Tor tells me that she wants to fly home as soon as possible.

‘I can’t stay here. I’m terrified that I’m going to run into them if we go anywhere. And I just want my bed. And my mum.’

Obviously, I’m pretty keen to get out of here too. ‘Of course,’ I say, handing her a chamomile tea and two Valiums.

I spend the next few hours trying to sort us a flight – while Tor packs with a listless energy – and finally manage to get two seats in economy that afternoon. Tor asks for another Valium and sleeps for almost the entire flight home. I look out the window at the Aegean wondering how long it will be before the bodies wash up somewhere. It takes my mind off the lack of space and stench of body odour.

Back in the UK, I drive Tor to one of Sylvie’s sprawling mansions in Surrey. Tor’s clearly told her most of what’s happened and I was fully expecting a showdown with her about letting Tor go off alone. But she doesn’t. Instead she wraps us both in hugs. ‘My poor babies,’ she says. ‘Do you want to stay, Kitty? We’ve loads of room. You’re more than welcome.’

I thank her but say no. ‘I think Tor needs her mum, for a bit.’

Tor wraps her arms tightly round me and whispers ‘thank you’ into my neck.

By the time I get back to my apartment, I feel like I have PTSD. I neck a couple of Vallies myself and crawl into bed, exhausted. So much for the relaxing break I’d planned.

It’s only when I’m in that beautiful halfway house between asleep and awake that I remember the bloodied clothes in the back of the wardrobe in Mykonos.

Fuck.

But I’m too Vallied right now to care.





45


APPLE NEWS

Police concerns grow for three missing British men on holiday in Mykonos

Concern is growing for three men missing on the Greek island of Mykonos. The men, whose names have not yet been released but are believed to be from London, were due to return from their trip to the popular island earlier this week but have failed to contact their respective families.

It’s believed the trio were staying on a yacht belonging to one of the party. The boat has remained docked at the island’s main port, with no sign of the men. Witnesses have said the men were familiar faces on the destination’s party scene but claim they haven’t been seen in any bars or clubs since last week.

Anyone with any information is urged to contact Mykonos police on +30 7732459.





46


KITTY’S APARTMENT, CHELSEA

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

It’s online now that three men have gone missing from Mykonos and I left a bag covered in a mixture of all our blood in the back of a wardrobe.

I feel like I’m losing the plot.

I can’t stop pacing and panicking and pacing some more.

Every time my phone pings I’m certain it’s the police. It’s been a week since we left the hotel and the suite would certainly have been cleaned by now. I can’t stop picturing one of the lovely maids coming across the bag of gore and screaming. They’d have certainly handed it in to the police and that sundress has my DNA, plus the blood of the three missing, no, dead men all over it. I can’t concentrate on anything. Charlie has called me about ten times, but I can’t even bring myself to listen to his voicemails. What’s he going to think of me when he discovers the truth? I mean, I know that every single man I’ve killed has deserved it, but I’ve still murdered people. A lot of people. I can’t breathe. And I can’t wait. I decide to call the hotel.