Page 98 of The Player
Then he lifted his head to look at each of us.
“We found a body. By the river. I think it’s the guy you’re looking for.”
“You think? Or you know?” I asked, growing irritated by the second. I wanted this all to end. I wanted it for Bryony and for me. The not knowing was the worst part.
“We’re pretty certain.” He sighed, his eyes dropping to the floor as he spoke. “The body was badly decomposed when we found it. There was no way to identify it from scars or marks, tattoos, that sort of thing. The skin was… well, decomposition had fucked that avenue up for us. We did find one scar on his ribs. Conducive to a recent knife wound.” He pointed to his chest. “Right here. But there was no weapon found near the body.”
“And dental records? DNA?” Tyler enquired with a deep-set frown on his forehead as he tried to make sense of what we were all hearing.
“We tried to find a match, but nothing came up on the database. It’s like he was the perfect John Doe. Digitally, he doesn’t exist.”
“It’s too fucking perfect,” Adam snapped.
“Yeah,” Tom agreed. “But we also found this, in the pocket of a black leather jacket that was hidden in the undergrowth nearby.”
He took out a plastic bag and opened it, pulling out the white paper inside.
“It’s a letter addressed to Will and signed from Bryony. And since you’re the only Will I know who’d have a Bryony that’d write letters to him, I thought I’d show it to you.” He passed me the note and I took it. “Chances are, you’ll get a call from one of my colleagues when they eventually put two and two together. What you do then is up to you. But I thought I’d show you first. Keep you in the loop.” He nodded to the letter in my hand. “You can keep that, by the way. It’s not the original.”
I didn’t open it right away. Instincts told me this wasn’t a letter I’d want to read in front of Tom, so we waited until he’d filled us in on a few other details. They’d found the remains of the men whose hands were left on our doorstep. They’d been left in shallow graves in Newgate Forest. There was an open investigation, but they were no closer to finding the killer. There was nothing left on the bodies or anything they could find in the forest to help in their enquiries. The only thing linking the men was the fact that they’d all worked at Clivesdon House, a children’s home that burned down years ago, along with any paperwork. The online data was brief, and according to Tom, it was pointless.
I listened to what he said, but I kept quiet. Those were Isaiah’s murders, not mine. Tom knew it was all connected somehow, but he didn’t ask questions, and we didn’t offer him any answers. But we could trust him. He would keep our names out of it, and cover for us if anything did come back on us.
When he eventually got up to leave, Adam stood too and walked him out. Then Colton came over to sit next to me.
“You don’t have to read it,” he said. “Burn it in the fucking fire if it helps. You know whatever’s in there is bullshit anyway. Bryony told you he wanted her to write a letter, and she never did. Those are his words. They mean nothing.”
He was right, of course. But morbid curiosity meant I couldn’t just burn it. I had to read what it said. So, I sat back on the sofa, unfolded the paper and read his words.
Will,
By the time you read this letter, I’ll be gone. This isn’t a decision I’ve taken lightly. In fact, this was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.
I wanted to leave you this letter because I need you to know something. I haven’t led a happy life. There are moments in time and things that I’ve done that I regret, words I should have said but never did. But the one thing I need you to know is this… having you in my life has changed everything. You turned my dark, grey, miserable life into something colourful, wonderful, hopeful. I use that word a lot when I think about you. Hope. Because that’s what you are, it’s what you gave me. The hope that tomorrow could be a better day. Hope that things will be okay just because you’re there. You are my hope, Will. And I will always be grateful for that. I’ll always be grateful for you.
Don’t try to find me. When I’m ready, I’ll come back to you. But I need you to do something for me. I need you to keep hope alive. Because if we lose that, we’ve lost everything.
Forever and always,
Your Bryony.
I folded the letter up and slipped it into my pocket. Feelings warred inside me, conflicting feelings about what it said, because after reading it, I’d realised something. That wasn’t a letter from Bryony. It wasn’t her voice that was speaking to me. It was his. That was a letter from the silent boy. One that told me how much he’d hung onto the hope that one day I’d go back for him. That I’d help him. But I never did. And that was something I’d have to come to terms with.
I’d played a part in creating a monster. The Taskmaster was born because of me, just as much as it was created to avenge those men.
I stood up, ready to go to Bryony and tell her what’d happened. It wasn’t the ending we’d hoped for, but it was something, at least, to know her stab wound had been the final blow. That it’d killed him. I knew it’d help her too. Her way to make him pay for what he’d done to her father, to her, to us. But at the same time, I felt like we needed more. We deserved more.
Surely, after everything, this couldn’t be the end?
Epilogue I
WILL
One Year Later
“You know, when I said I wanted to change my surname and have a fresh start, I didn’t expect you to go to these lengths.” Bee stood opposite me on the steps of Brinton Manor registry office, looking absolutely stunning in a floor-length silk, ivory dress. Her dark hair fell in waves over her bare shoulders, and I swear, I’d never seen her look as beautiful as she did right now.
“And when I said there isn’t another woman alive that I want to spend the rest of my life with, I meant it,” I shot back, hooking my arm out, ready for her to take.
