Maddy was too terrified to speak. Almost too terrified to breathe. Ben was still moving towards her, the light catching the blade of his knife, glinting in his eyes.
‘The plan?’ he said. ‘This is the plan. This was always the plan.’
‘No,’ she said, finding her voice, shaking her head, ‘no… We… we agreed to, to go to the police…’
He shook his head, laughed. ‘No, not at all. You might have got that impression. I can see how you would. Because that’s what I told you. And you’re so easy, so, so easy to manipulate. Piece of piss. God, if Gwilym could do it, I’d have no trouble…’
‘What?’ Maddy wasn’t sure what she was hearing now. Above the roaring in her ears, the thoughts and emotions tumbling through her, she was sure she could make out the sound of own heart breaking. ‘What d’you mean?’
‘Stupider than I thought. The plan to get Gwilym and you out of the way. You attack Gwilym, get him hospitalised at the very least. Or I make it look like you attack him. That award statue was just poetic justice, don’t you think?’
Maddy said nothing.
Ben continued. ‘And then, once you’ve killed him or whatever, you feel so remorseful over his death – this poor little innocent girl that the big bad man has chewed up and spat out, oh woe is you – that you kill yourself. Here. In his house. Over his body. Again, poetry. I planned that bit too.’
‘But… why?’
‘Because they’d believe it. You’ve already tried it once. Got the marks to prove it. They’ll think you just dug in with a bit more conviction this time. Did it properly.’
Maddy shook her head. The torrent was raging inside her, making it hard to think. ‘No, no… I mean, why? Why do this? Any of this?’
‘I need that research. Too inconvenient. Too incriminating. And you’ve seen me, of course. You have to go.’
‘But what about the girl?’
Ben frowned. ‘Girl?’
‘The other girl. The one before me. The one that Gwilym turned into a smackhead.’
He thought for a few seconds. ‘Oh, her. Made her up. Never existed. Well, I’m sure she did. Or someone like her. Probably loads like her. He was very prolific, old Hugo. Because you’re not the first. You got that bit right.’
‘But Ben…’ She couldn’t think of anything else to say.
‘Just made her up. To tug at your poor little heart strings. Get you all sad. Get you to do what I wanted you to do.’
The torrent was slowing, her thoughts, emotions forming into something she could recognise. ‘You… you used me…’
‘Yes. I used you.’ He pointed to Gwilym’s body. ‘He used you. You see a pattern emerging here? Course you do. You’re easy to use. Easy to manipulate. So why not?’
He reached her. The tip of his knife almost touching her skin. She could sense he was readying himself to grab her. She looked round, tried to work out what her best options for escape were. Couldn’t see any.
He had her.
And then the doorbell rang.