Hannah stared at the figure whose bandaged face she had previously seen on screen, relishing Harry's and Stella's suffering, and said, "Like most sicko's, you're so much shorter in real life."
The bandages on his lower face stretched, indicating a smile, "You didn't answer my question, I'll try again, "You don't like Ian's idea, do you?" He asked, in a strangely muffled voice.
In her peripheral vision, Hanna could see the rhythmic undulations of Stella's chest as she slowly recovered from her ordeal. Wanting to buy more time for Stella's recovery, Hannah stood up and asked, "Are you Ian?"
He stepped one foot forward, "Answering my question with another question, that's not cool, is it, Hanna Stialz?"
Hannah smiled, "But are you Ian, did you really fake your own suicide?" She asked.
The facial bandages stretched again, "Yes I did," he answered.
Hannah decided to play his game, "I have to admit, pulling off a fake suicide takes skills, especially convincing your family, friends and the police – I mean how did you do it Ian, please tell me?" She asked, feigning a deep interest.
###
Stella's ex boss, Chief Inspector Ford, was fretting. He deeply regretted firing Stella; in fact he'd decided that sacking her was the biggest mistake of his professional career.
His station staff had not held back in voicing their disapproval of his decision – "Not only was she brilliant at her job, but she was a joy to have around the station; always lifting our spirits," said one disgruntled police officer.
But even worse was an email he'd received from his own boss at Police Headquarters, expressing deep concerns that he had not gone through the correct procedural disciplinary measures, and in sacking Stella, he was actually in breach of the law. The email ended with a demand that Chief Inspector Ford re-instate Stella with immediate effect.
###
In the coffin, Stella lay still, inhaling short rapid breaths that she could feel replenishing the cells in her body. She also listened intently to the conversation between Hannah and Ian.
Ian responded with a smug arrogance to Hannah's question, "When you have my skills, you can do anything. The details and minutia of how I managed to fake my suicide will never be divulged. That would be like a magician doing a mind blowing trick, then revealing how he did it – not clever, or entertaining," he said.
As he spoke, Hannah studied his physique and body language. She noted he shared the same height and shape as Harry's best friend, Ian. So, sure it was him; and knowing the incredible bond he shared with his mother, she asked, "Are you not concerned or affected by your mother's hurt and pain, she's devastated, Ian."
His hand shot up, "Game over, Hannah – we don't go there!" He said, his voice rattled.
Hannah lowered her voice, "Where do we go from here, Ian?" She asked. The bandages of his lower face stretched once again, "To the next level," he said.
"And what is the next level?" Asked Hannah, calmly.
Ian didn't hesitate, "Murder. Real life murder. Murder for online consumption. Murder for paying subscribers. Murder to watch in the comfort of their own sick, but safe spaces," he said, with a chilling calm.
It was then that Hannah noticed a familiar whirring to her left. She glanced at the source of the sound and noted the blinking light. More whirring sounds punctuated the space. Hannah knew the score – they were being recorded and filmed.
