Chapter 6: A Little Off the Top

There was an exact moment when Hamilton Bahn's world began to piece itself back together and he started to detect the things in his surroundings. Before he even opened his eyes he could perceive that he wasn't able to move his arms or his legs because his wrists, elbows, ankles, upper torso and knees seemed to be bound to the wooden chair he was sitting in. He didn't want to open his eyes but did so anyway.

The first thing he noticed, as his vision cleared, was that he was totally naked and bound, with duct tape, to the heavy, wooden desk-chair which was now in the middle of the room. To his right was a small end table and, on that, was an upright, open greeting card depicting pastel colored eggs and the words HAPPY EASTER across the top. Next to the card lay an open, pearl-handled, straight razor, its sharp blade reflecting the light of a nearby lamp.

Now, coming from his left and stepping before him, was Kit Cassidy, clad in nothing more than a red, lacy bra and a matching pair of red bikini panties, the thong-type that a girl would purchase from any Victoria's Secret store.

"Ah, you're back," she said brightly. "I was afraid that I might have hit you a little too hard."

Bahn moved his tongue around in his dry mouth so that he was able to speak. "What did you hit me with?"

She smiled, bent and picked up a red, metal canister from where it stood on the plush carpet beside her, holding it up in display she told him, "The fire extinguisher from my room."

He wanted to rub the throbbing pain at the back of his head but was reminded, by the duct tape securing his wrists and arms, that he could not. Anger and frustration welling within him, Bahn said, "Is this some kind of joke, Constable?"

Putting the extinguisher down, Kit stood upright, placed her hands to the curves of her rounded hips and said, "Do I look like I'm laughing, Inspector?"

"What the hell is this all about?" he demanded.

"Look around you. Isn't it obvious? I'm the killer, Ham. I committed the murders we've been investigating and, I'm afraid, you're the Easter victim."

Bahn tried to squirm in his chair, testing the strength of his bindings which, he quickly found, were extremely secure and unyielding.

"Don't waste your time struggling, Inspector," she said calmly. "You won't get free of that strong, thick tape. None of the others did."

"The others?"

"McKenzie and Neeley and Hewett and Leclercq. I killed them all, Inspector. I had to."

"You had to? But why?"

"Isn't it obvious? Couldn't the great Hamilton Bahn figure it out?"

Kit now stepped in front of Bahn and reached to the table and picked up the razor, admiring it in her hand as she said, "I gave them all what they had coming to them."

"Had coming to them? What had they done?"

"Nothing," she replied, dropping to her haunches in front of him. "Nothing and everything."

"Don't be so cryptic, Kit. What are you talking about?"

"It's all there, Inspector. You should have pieced it together. Mackenzie was the Crown prosecutor for Moose Jaw when I was in High School. The case was brought before him but he dismissed it."

"Case? What case?"

"The case of Martin Cassidy, my father, who was arrested when I came forward and told the local authorities what he had been doing to me."

"What HAD he been doing?"

"Fucking me, Ham," she told him matter-of-factly. "The bastard had been fucking me ... using me to satisfy his sick, twisted, sexual urges, for many years. From the time he first noticed that I got my breasts and my hips and ass, he had me replace my mother in his bed." She laughed now but it was a cold, humorless laugh. "Aware of what my father was doing, my brothers decided that they could have their way with me too and, them being older and bigger than me, there was nothing I could do about it."

Bahn was struck by the enormity of what she was saying. "I'm sorry, Kit."

"Are you?" she said, looking him straight in the eyes. "Are you ... sorry for me, Ham?"

"Of course I am. But why did..."

"My father lived another year before he died of cirrhosis of the liver. I thought that my nightmare was over then but, just after daddy died, my brothers took me with them, camping to Wakamow Valley. I was so hoping that we could live together as a normal family then but I soon found out that they'd only brought me along to use me for sex, with them, in their sleeping bags. I'd brought my father's old straight-razor with me and, after they'd satisfied themselves inside me, I used it to slit their throats in their sleep. I buried them both where they'd never be found and they never were. Not them or their severed cocks. They were wild, rowdy boys and everyone in Moose Jaw figured that they'd just run off and nobody even looked for them. After that, I was taken in by a foster family who did the best they could with me but I was already damaged goods. I vowed then to do whatever I could to get back at the people who did nothing to help me. I got good grades my last year of high school and was accepted for training by the very Royal Canadian Mounted Police. I figured that being on The Force would get me access to the people I had to deal with and help me in my quest for justice. Being on the inside would keep me above suspicion when the crap hit the fan ... and it did, didn't it, Ham? I planned it all out ... the how and the when and the where...

"I killed Mackenzie first," she went on. "My father had brought me to him, after he beat me for exposing him, and then he had me get on my knees and suck Mackenzie off in exchange for his dropping the whole thing. It was a gamble but it paid off because the good prosecutor turned out to be not so good after all and, by high school, I had become a very accomplished little cock sucker.

"That's why Judge Mackenzie's cock ended up in his own mouth. So he could see what it was like to have to suck on that thing like I did. Men use their cocks for evil, Ham, so I figured, if I separate the prick from the man, I remove the evil."