The Death Sculptor

One Hundred and Fourteen

Scott Bradley’s scared and confused gaze moved from Olivia to Hunter and then back to Olivia. ‘Please,’ he said. ‘I have a family. I have a wife and two daughters.’

Olivia slapped him across the face again. ‘I had a mother.’

Scott saw something in her eyes that he’d never seen in anyone else’s. Something that scared him like nothing ever had. His cut lip was beginning to swell up. He swallowed a mouthful of saliva and blood, and fought the desire to vomit before speaking again.

‘We knew each other from bars and clubs in West Hollywood,’ he said. ‘You know, back then we were out all the time. We bumped into each other everywhere. Pretty soon we started hanging out together. Andy was the one who came up with the idea the first time. He would get a street hooker and take her to some isolated place somewhere. The rest of us would be waiting and hiding . . .’ He looked away.

‘Don’t stop talking,’ Olivia ordered.

‘Andy was LAPD, fresh out of cop school. His beat was West Hollywood. He knew the women who had no pimp, no protection.’

Hunter closed his eyes and let out a heavy breath. Without the protection of a pimp there wouldn’t be many consequences for the group if things ever got ugly.

‘This one night, Andy brought this skinny bi—’ Scott stopped himself before saying the word. ‘This skinny woman with him. She was pretty. Andy said her name was Roxy. She . . .’ He shook his head as he remembered. ‘She looked really scared when she saw all of us.’ He looked down, avoiding their eyes.

‘And you all liked that, didn’t you?’ Olivia asked. ‘You all liked it when they showed how scared they were.’

Scott didn’t reply.

Hunter’s eyes were tracking Olivia. She was still behind Scott’s chair. She had picked Hunter’s gun up from the floor, and he saw her flick the safety off. They were all running out of time.

‘That night things went wrong . . . really wrong,’ Scott continued. ‘We all had . . . had our fun, except Derek, Derek Nicholson. That night he didn’t want to do it. Maybe it was because he was just about to get married, or maybe it was because this Roxy chick kept on begging us not to hurt her . . .’

Hunter knew that Roxy’s pleas would’ve fed the sadistic flame in all of them. The more scared she got, the more excited they got.

‘. . . She kept telling us that she had a daughter who was ill.’ Scott stopped talking and silence took over the large room for a moment. And for a moment, each of them was left alone with their thoughts.

‘Tell him how bad things got.’ Olivia broke the silence.

‘We were all high and drunk. Nathan had been really rough with her. We didn’t really notice when it happened, but she stopped breathing.’

‘Did you beat her up?’

‘Derek and I didn’t do anything. Andy and Nathan did.’

Olivia’s eyes dropped to Scott’s hand. She was ready to snap another finger.

‘They beat her up, yes, but it wasn’t anything too violent. It just added to the excitement for them. Derek and I just watched, I swear. We didn’t hit her. We didn’t like the beating-up part. It did nothing for us.’

Those had been Derek Nicholson’s exact words to Olivia when he confessed to her.

‘Maybe she hit her head or something,’ Scott continued. ‘She couldn’t have died from only a few slaps.’

Olivia looked at Hunter before returning her attention to Scott. ‘Carry on.’

Scott spit out a mouthful of blood. ‘When we realized she was dead, we panicked. We didn’t know what to do. No one was thinking straight. Too much booze and acid. I suggested we just left her there and got the hell out, but Andy said that was no good. The amount of evidence the cops would find in that room and on her body would put us all away for good. We could try cleaning it up, but there were no guarantees. Then Andy came up with a plan.’

Hunter felt his stomach tighten. He knew what that plan would be.

‘Andy went out and brought back several thick plastic sheets, a meat cleaver, a long, thick chain, padlocks, and a large, square metal toolbox. It was big, but not big enough to fit a body.’ Scott paused and looked away.

‘Don’t stop now,’ Olivia said, not allowing the momentum to settle. ‘Tell him what you did.’

‘I didn’t do anything,’ he pleaded.

Olivia slapped him across the face. The gash on his lower lip ripped a little more, sending another spray of blood flying across the room.

Scott shivered, taking in quick gulps of air to steady his body.

‘Tell him.’

‘Nathan had worked part-time in a butcher’s shop. He was good with a meat cleaver,’ Scott said.

Olivia didn’t flinch. She had heard the whole story before.

‘Derek and I couldn’t watch. We went outside while Andy and Nathan did what they had to do. Derek was messed up. He was freaking out about the bit— . . . the woman’s daughter – what would happen to her and all. He was more concerned about her than he was about us. Something to do with him having lost his mother when he was really young. He wanted to go to the cops, but he knew that if he did, we would all go to prison for a fucking long time. He was in his last year of law school. He was engaged to get married in a month’s time. He didn’t want to throw his life away. Besides, if he’d gone to the cops, Andy would’ve killed him. He would’ve killed any of us. He told us all that.’ He paused for breath. ‘When Andy and Nathan were done, all that was left was this chained and padlocked toolbox. My father had a boat, which I had the keys to. So I was left with the job of dumping that box as far off the coast as I could. Andy came with me while the others went home. The box was too heavy. It would’ve never surfaced.’

The last victim, Hunter thought. The one who had disposed of the body.

‘Derek was left with the task of getting rid of the woman’s purse and all her documents.’ Scott’s gaze turned to Olivia. ‘I guess that was how he found you. He never threw the purse away. He kept her things.’

Olivia said nothing.

‘After that night we saw each other less and less, until we just drifted apart. We all moved on with our lives. But we all kept our secret.’

‘Not all of you,’ Olivia said, slamming the butt of Hunter’s gun into the back of Scott’s head, knocking him out cold.