Chapter 41 #2
The screen went black as the recording came to an end, but my heart still beat wildly out of my chest and nausea swirled inside me, making me feel sick to my stomach.
I felt dizzy as I panted, panic setting in.
I thought that was the worst of it, but as I minimised the video on the screen, I saw another window was open, hiding behind it. A window that filled me with repulsion.
I guessed it was a police report because the images were explicit, and the write-up of events included more details than a newspaper report would give.
The photos showed a single horse from a fairground carousel that’d been fixed to the floor of a warehouse.
The naked body of the male victim was on the horse, but brutally impaled on the pole that was used to hold on during the ride.
The pole ran through his whole body, protruding out of his neck, his head snapped back at an unnatural angle that was sickening to see.
It was clear his neck was broken, and blood soaked the victim’s body from the vicious wounds that’d been inflicted from multiple cuts and stabs.
On the floor, there were streamers and balloons scattered amongst the pools of blood, along with a sash embroidered with the words ‘Finish Line’.
Pinned to the horse’s bridle was a golden rosette with the number one on it. The victim’s hands also appeared to be glued to either side of a golden winner’s trophy. And on the wall, behind the macabre scene, were the words ‘Nice Guys Finish Last’ spray-painted in red paint.
The attacker clearly thought this guy wasn’t nice, the staging of his murder scene showing him as the winner highlighted that. And I knew exactly who that murderer was.
With a heavy heart and an unsteady mind, reeling from the fact that he was still out there, still active, still able to come and find me, I tapped onto the last file. The written report.
In the early hours of Friday morning, the body of forty-two-year-old Alonso Silver was found in an abandoned warehouse not far from his home in Milan. The initial cause of death has been recorded as strangulation.
Following strangulation, the attacker then proceeded to break the victim’s neck and impale him on a metal pole. The pole was initially impaled through the victim’s anus and exited via his neck.
There were additional injuries sustained during this attack, including forty-two knife wounds, a number which officers believe could be significant and possibly linked to the victim’s age, along with extensive burns to the victim’s hands, where a metal object (a trophy) was welded to his skin.
Deep knife wounds were also found on the rear of each ankle, where the victim’s Achilles heel had been severed on both the left and right foot.
It is unclear at this time whether this damage was caused prior to or following his death.
Officers are appealing for any witnesses to come forward who may be able to help with their inquiries.
Mr. Silver had recently been cleared of all charges of historical child abuse, following an investigation into the recent Piper-Hall Children’s Home scandal.
Mr. Silver, who has worked as a social worker for over twenty years, always vehemently denied any involvement in the case and was acquitted on the grounds of insufficient evidence.
I stopped reading. I didn’t want to know any more about the case. But it was clear that S.K.A.M. had been busy at work in Italy, doing more than just an art performance, and knowing that made me sick to my stomach.
My heart was still pounding as I stared at the screen, and then I heard footsteps outside the office, and the door swung open.
Alex stood in the doorway, smiling, but when he saw my face, his smile was replaced with knitted brows of concern.
“Emma, are you okay?”
I stood up from behind the desk, pinning him with an accusatory glare as I panted furiously. I was close to a panic attack. My head was swimming, and every nerve in my body spiked as I tried to control my breathing. Spots danced in front of my eyes as dizziness took a hold of me.
“You lied to me,” I gasped with quiet fury.
He frowned harder, but concern marred his handsome face as he took a step into the room and closed the door behind him.
“What do you mean, I lied to you? I haven’t lied.”
I nodded to the screen and leaned forward, placing my hands on the desk to try and steady myself.
“You told me he was locked away. That he was in a secure unit and wouldn’t be out for a very long time...
if ever. And yet, there he is, performing in Italy, and doing...
other things.” I couldn’t hold myself back any longer.
“He’s out! HE’S FUCKING OUT THERE! HE’S FREE AND HE’LL FIND ME!
HE’LL KILL ME, TOO,” I shouted, shaking as I held onto the desk for dear life.
Alex covered his face with his hands, dragging them down in exasperation as he let out an anguished groan.
“It isn’t like that. Please, Emma. It’s not what you think.”
I hung my head, swaying slightly as I shut my eyes tightly. “Then what is it like? Because from where I’m standing, he’s been free to do whatever he wants, and you’ve been getting updates about it.” I sounded calm, but I didn’t feel it.
“I’ve kept tabs on him, yes...”
I huffed and shook my head, anger surging through me as my fingers clawed the wooden desk.
How could he lie to me like this after everything we’d been through?
“But at no point,” he went on, his voice sounding more desperate. “Was he ever a threat to you. He was in a secure unit, like I told you. Then he was granted permission to fulfil an engagement in Italy that’d been booked in advance and would cost other people a lot of money if he’d pulled out.”
“Where is he?” I asked, feeling frantic. “Where is he now? Right this second?” I still wasn’t convinced by anything Alex was saying.
“He’s locked away, Emma. You’re safe. You’re always safe here.”
I shook my head, mistrust heavy in the air around me.
“I’m not, though, am I.” I stepped away from the desk I was using to hold me up, feeling a sudden rush to the head as I faltered and almost fell backwards.
Alex stalked over to me, taking hold of the tops of my arms as he peered into my eyes and urged, “Emma, you’re okay. Nothing is going to happen to you. Please, sit down, sweetheart. You look unwell.”
“Of course I’m fucking unwell!” I snapped. “That could be me on that bloody horse. I could be next.”
Tears soaked my cheeks as I slumped back into the chair, taking deep breaths, feeling like I was drowning. I couldn’t get enough air into my lungs. The walls of my life were closing in and I felt trapped. I couldn’t escape.
Alex clenched his teeth and the muscle in his jaw ticked. Then he knelt beside me, taking my hand as he tried to soothe me.
“I’m sorry you had to see that, really, I am.
I should’ve deleted the files the minute Tobey sent them to me.
But S.K.A.M. is locked up. He’s not free and you’re safe.
And what happened to that man, the murder victim, that would never happen to you.
Not ever.” And on a whisper, he added, “I’d die for you, Emma. ”
“You lied to me,” I added pitifully, feeling the pain of his betrayal pierce through me like a knife to the heart.
“I kept a truth to myself so it wouldn’t hurt you,” he replied, and I scoffed.
“You’re just twisting your words to suit your narrative.”
“Maybe, but it’s the truth. I did it for the right reasons. There was no subterfuge. Nothing underhand, I promise.”
I stared blankly into my lap, my ears ringing as I breathed deeply.
Alex took my chin in his thumb and forefinger to turn my head to face him.
“I don’t want to argue with you, Emma. And I hate to see you so upset.”
“Then don’t lie to me,” I pleaded with him.
“Or keep truths to yourself, however you want to word it. And don’t leave stuff like that on your computer for someone to find.
It’s harrowing. I’ll be seeing those photographs for a long time.
” My rapid breaths and racing heart were beginning to slow down.
“And promise me he’ll stay locked up. I need to know he’s not out there. ”
He looked heartbroken that I’d seen what was on his computer.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, stroking his thumb over my hand that he held tightly. “I won’t let anything like this ever happen again.” And judging from the honesty that shone from his handsome face, he meant it.
I nodded and he stared at me, the thoughts running through his mind echoed in his eyes as he frowned to himself.
“What is it?” I asked, knowing he was toying with telling me something else. “Tell me.”
“I just want to protect you. That’s all.
I want you to let me deal with all the bullshit.
” He put his arms around me to pull me into a hug, and I let him, only resisting a little to show I still wasn’t over it.
“I want to treat you so well you forget you were ever scared of that man. I don’t want you to have to think about him, see him, or talk about him.
As far as I’m concerned, he’s dead. Gone.
He’s of no importance to us or our lives. ”
I closed my eyes, enjoying the warmth of his embrace.
“I guess if we’re being totally honest, I might have another confession,” he said, and a sick feeling surged inside me again.
I went to pull away, but he wouldn’t let me.
“Don’t worry. It’s nothing bad. Just something I need to show you.
Something which will hopefully put what happened today, and what you’ve seen, out of your mind. If that’s at all possible.”
I wasn’t sure anything could do that, but I nodded quietly in agreement.
“I’m not sure I like your confessions,” I said, regarding him with suspicion.
“Well, I hope I can change that with what I’m about to show you.”