The First Cut

But she didn’t know if she could do it. Keith had done her no harm; he had only tried to kiss her. But he could give her away before she’d finished, and she couldn’t afford to let that happen-not after everything else. Grimley had been a mistake in the first place, and one that almost sent her screaming back home. Now Keith. All she had wanted to do was find the man who had hurt her and murdered the other girls and kill him, put a stop to his carnage once and for all, but she was so deep in blood already and she hadn’t even found him yet. How much further would she have to go?

With an effort, she pulled her mind back from the negative track. It wasn’t as if she had any choice in the matter, she told herself. Somehow, from somewhere, she would have to dredge up the courage. He was a man, after all, wasn’t he? When it came down to it, they were all the same underneath. Hadn’t he tried to force himself on her, and wouldn’t he do the same again? She shuddered at the thought.

It would be easy to do it up here. Just a gentle push over the edge, or quick kick at the ankles to make him stumble and fall. An accident. But it was too open, and she could see two other walkers approaching from the opposite direction. As it was, they turned out to be serious hikers with binoculars, boots and rucksacks, far more interested in distant seabirds than in fellow human beings, but there must be no witnesses and no probing, time-consuming inquest. As the men passed, Sue looked the other way. So far she was sure that nobody would remember seeing her with Keith, but there was no point in being careless.

Gulls swooped low, flashing white in the sun, and curious insects buzzed around Sue’s head. Before long, she could see the crumbling jetty of Port Mulgrave way below, and they began their descent into the tiny village. Keith wanted to stop for a cup of tea and a sandwich at the Boat House Tea Room, but Sue urged him on, saying she was still full from lunch. She was nervous now she had made her decision, and that made her cautious. When she took his hand, he gave in quite easily and they set off up the road to Hinderwell.

Soon they were on a rough track approaching a caravan site, then they turned right, crossed some more fields and walked down a steep hill to a footbridge over a beck. It was a dramatic change of landscape, from coast to inland valley. They walked through brambles and blackberry bushes, and Sue could see what Keith had meant about snagging her skirt on the thorns. Even in jeans she had to walk carefully. The smell was different here, too. Rotten fish and seaweed were distant memories, replaced by crushed berries and wild garlic in the honeyed air droning with insects.

Beyond the brambles, they entered the woods. The path was bounded on both sides by dense thickets and tall trees. They passed an elderly couple, who smiled and said hello, then after a few minutes walking in the quiet woods, Sue suggested that maybe it was time for a rest.

“But there’s nowhere to rest here,” Keith said. “Just the path.”

“There’s the woods, isn’t there?” Sue broke free and ran off through the undergrowth. “Come on, it’s nice in here!” she called back. “Cool and dark. I’m sure we’ll find somewhere to sit down.” Keith ran after her.

When they’d gone far enough that they couldn’t be seen from the path, Sue pointed to a concave patch of ground between two trees. “There. Perfect.” She sat and leaned back against a tree trunk. Filtered green light streamed down through the leaves and birds called to one another from their high nests, passing on warnings that intruders had come. Keith lowered himself down beside Sue, so close that their arms touched.

It wasn’t long before his hands started wandering, as she had expected, just touching her hair and throat at first. The tension inside her was almost unbearable, but she tried not to stiffen up. Then he kissed her. She let him. She took off her quilted jacket to make a pillow against the rough bark and he started fiddling with the buttons on her shirt. She let him. One button, two buttons, three buttons…she had one arm around him and the other groping in her holdall. Her mouth was dry and it still tasted of greasy cod. Four buttons. Now her bra was exposed and he bent forward and kissed the dark cleavage. She sighed. His fingers quickened and soon unbuttoned the shirt right down to her waist. Without bothering to take it off, he pulled the bra up over her breasts. She let him. Her free hand stroked the nape of his neck and tears ran down her flushed cheeks.

Suddenly, he froze.

“My god, Martha! What happened? What on earth happened?”

He pulled back and stared in horror at the puckered zigzags across the skin of her breasts. They looked like an old hag’s dugs, as Sue well knew. Her hand closed on the paperweight.

“Nothing,” she said softly. “Nothing for you to worry about. Why, does it turn you off?”

“Well, no,” he said awkwardly. “I didn’t mean that. I just…”

“Go on then, Keith. Go ahead. Kiss them if you like.”

She put her free hand on the back of his head and drew him toward her. As she felt him resist, she pushed harder. She could feel his oily black hair under her fingers and the strength in the knotted muscles at the back of his neck as he shoved against her hand. Tears of anger burned in her eyes. His lips brushed the dead skin where the severed nerve ends had never knit back together. He strained back, but she kept pushing him down. When his mouth reached the place where her right nipple used to be, she brought the paperweight down on the side of his head.

He didn’t jerk and twitch like Jack Grimley, and for that she was grateful. She didn’t know if she would have been able to stand that without going mad. He just slumped forward into her arms. She rolled him off and he fell onto his back at her feet. Blood bubbled over his ear through his glossy hair onto the earth. She wasn’t going to make the mistake of touching the wound this time. Her heart was beating wildly, but at least she didn’t feel sick. Perhaps, like everything else, murder got easier with practice.

Sue raised the paperweight again, but the sound of rustling in the undergrowth stopped her. Heart thudding, she looked up straight into the eyes of a large panting collie. The dog just stared at her with its tongue hanging out and its head cocked to one side, as if it wondered what the hell was going on. Sue felt more naked under its gaze than she had under Keith’s, and she quickly pulled down her bra and began to button up her shirt. The dog just stood there, watching her with that pained and puzzled expression in its eyes.

Then she heard a faint cry in the distance. The dog’s ears pricked up and with a final, despairing glance at her, it turned and ran off through the thicket toward two distant figures standing on the path. This place was too dangerous; she had to get out before someone else came. First, she took Keith’s Ordnance Survey guide from his back pocket. She would need that to find her way back to the main road. Then she felt for his pulse. She didn’t really know where to look, except from programs she’d seen on television, but she couldn’t feel anything on his wrist. Quickly, she hit him once more, just to make certain. Surely one of the blows must have fractured his skull, she thought. She wiped the paperweight carefully on his shirt, wrapped it in paper handkerchiefs and put it back deep in her holdall.

Next she piled all the loose brush and dead leaves she could find over Keith’s body. He looked so i