Page 26 of Beyond the Darkness
A strange floating sensation came over Hudson and it sounded for a moment like he was listening to Luke from underwater.“Red Hills Massacre,” he managed to say at last, incredulous.
“It’s too much of a coincidence,” Luke said, “that your own co-star should be killed in a copycat of a film you starred in.”
“It’s no coincidence.Of all the fucking films.”He noticed Luke was watching him.He cleared his throat.“I found out on Monday that someone has been sending all this bizarre mail to me, care of the theatre.Rav didn’t think I needed to know.He thought it would unsettle my performance.”
“What kind of mail?”
“TheRed Hills Massacrekind.More specifically, still images of that death scene, along with cryptic, bullshit messages.”
“Where is all this stuff now?The letters and pictures.”
“Rav has them.He was going to get someone to look into it.”
“Fuck.He won’t even know of the connection yet.”Luke gripped the wheel.“I’ll turn around at the next junction.We need to get back to the theatre and hand them over to the police.It can’t be a coincidence.”
Hudson swallowed.His throat was parched.“How far is it to your house?”
“We’re nearly there.A few more minutes.”
“Keep going.Please.I need a drink.I need…a few moments to get my head around this.I’ll call Rav and Andie when we get there.”
“Are you okay?”
“No.Keep driving please.”
Luke drove onto a road that ran parallel to a wide, flat beach.There were a dozen or so cottages dotted along the waterfront, and he pulled onto the drive of one of the houses two-thirds of the way along.There was a small, immaculate garden behind a low stone wall.The prettiness of the place would have astounded Hudson if he wasn’t so numb.He noted the details without taking them in.
“Come on,” Luke said, getting out of the car.
Despite the low ceilings and small rooms, the interior of the house was surprisingly light, thanks to a patio door at the front.Luke took him through to the kitchen.
“I’ve got beer and wine, but you look like you could do with something a lot stronger.”He opened the freezer compartment and pulled out a bottle of vodka.He put ice into a short tumbler and poured the spirit on top.“Do you want a mixer?”
Hudson shook his head and accepted the drink.He took half of it in a single mouthful.Thankfully it was smooth, with no burn in the throat.
Luke put a gentle hand on his shoulder.“Better?”
He nodded.
“You’re as white as a ghost.”
“I’m still processing.”He investigated Luke’s deep, dark eyes.“You’re sure about Julian’s body?You weren’t just imposing your own ideas onto the images you saw?You did say you were a fan of that movie yourself.”
“A hundred per cent sure.I could see the connection as soon as I saw the photo.Even if the killer hadn’t made the effort to stage Julian’s body in that exact position, the white underpants would have been more than a coincidence.Julian.You.The film.There’s no way it’s just a fluke.”
No.Hudson had already guessed as much.And he already had a stalker who’d proved himself to be obsessed withRed Hills Massacre.His biggest nightmare had become a reality.
“We’re better call the cops.There’s someone they need to find.And quickly.Before he does it again.”
Chapter Eleven
At the Beach House
Hudson’s first impressions of Detective Sergent Benito Coppola were favourable.He arrived at Luke’s house less than an hour after they’d made the call.He was a very attractive man in his mid-to-late thirties, his dark hair greying at the temples and deep lines adding character to an otherwise too handsome face.Despite the heat, he was well dressed in a navy pinstriped suit with a blue silk tie.
That was as good as it got.Within minutes of coming inside, he revealed himself to be an arrogant, narrow-minded prick.
“I don’t know where you’re getting your information from”—he shot Luke a withering glance as he spoke—“but we could do without amateur sleuthing hindering our investigation.”
