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| Ted Bundy |
The sweat on Luigi’s skin froze.
“Where? Can he see you?” he asked in a whisper.
Cody just shook his head. He was
looking directly behind Luigi.
Luigi moved his chair a little and turned his head to look in the
direction Cody was staring. There was a
skinny middle-aged man with grey hair walking along the pavement away from
them.
“I’m going to follow him,” declared Luigi. “To find out where he’s from.”
“Oh, God, Lou! He’ll try and get
you too!”
Luigi was filled with a cold deep rage.
The thought of what the killer had done to Cody, to the body and soul of
the man he loved more than anyone went to his bones and guts. He would stalk this monster and punish
him. Impractical notions of gunslinger
battles filled his head and then a cool realism damped them down. He would follow this man to his car or his
home. And he would take a photo with his
mobile phone of the man and his car or his destination wherever that was. The police would have him then.
“No he won’t,” Luigi said confidently.
“No way. He hasn’t seen me
before.”
“Then I’m going to come with you!” Cody was still pale and greenish but
he looked better.
“Don’t be dumb! He knows you!”
“I’ll wear your dark glasses. Anyway,
you’re not leaving me here alone with him around. Don’t, Lou!
Please don’t leave me alone.”
Luigi was torn. It really wasn’t
safe for Cody to accompany him. Surely
the killer knew him with a perverted profound intimacy? But Cody looked so disturbed at the mere thought
that he would be left alone that Luigi gave in.
“C’mon then. But let me quickly pay.”
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