Eye for An Eye

For my mother,who made me what I am. CONTENTSDedicationTitle PageAuthor’s NoteDay OneChapter 1Chapter 2Chapter 3Chapter 4Chapter 5Chapter 6Chapter 7Chapter 8Chapter 9Chapter 10Chapter 11Chapter 12Chapter 13Chapter 14Day TwoChapter 15Chapter 16Chapter 17Chapter 18Chapter 19Chapter 20Chapter 21Chapter 22Chapter 23Chapter 24Chapter 25Chapter 26Chapter 27Chapter 28Chapter 29Chapter 30Chapter 31Chapter 32Chapter 33Chapter 34Chapter 35Chapter 36Chapter 37Chapter 38Chapter 39Chapter 40Day ThreeChapter 41Chapter 42Chapter 43Chapter 44Chapter 45Chapter 46Chapter 47Chapter 48Chapter 49Chapter 50Chapter 51Chapter 52Chapter 53Chapter 54Chapter 55Chapter 56Chapter 57Chapter 58Chapter 59Chapter 60Chapter 61Chapter 62Chapter 63Chapter 64Chapter 65Chapter 66Chapter 67Chapter 68Chapter 69Chapter 70Chapter 71Chapter 72Chapter 73Chapter 74Chapter 75Day FourChapter 76Chapter 77Chapter 78Chapter 79Chapter 80Chapter 81Chapter 82Chapter 83Chapter 84Chapter 85Chapter 86Chapter 87Chapter 88Chapter 89Chapter 90Chapter 91Chapter 92Chapter 93Chapter 94Chapter 95Chapter 96Chapter 97Chapter 98Chapter 99Chapter 100Chapter 101Chapter 102Chapter 103Chapter 104Chapter 105Chapter 106Day FiveChapter 107Chapter 108Chapter 109Chapter 110Chapter 111Chapter 112Chapter 113Chapter 114Chapter 115Chapter 116Chapter 117Chapter 118Chapter 119Chapter 120Chapter 121Chapter 122Chapter 123Chapter 124Chapter 125Chapter 126Chapter 127Chapter 128Chapter 129Chapter 130Chapter 131Chapter 132Chapter 133Chapter 134Day SixChapter 135Chapter 136Chapter 137Chapter 138Chapter 139Chapter 140Chapter 141CreditsAbout the AuthorAlso by M.J. ArlidgeCopyright Author’s NoteThere are currently only nine convicted criminals in the UK who have been given permanent, lifelong anonymity by the courts, provided with new names and new lives following their release from prison. The crimes that these individuals committed were so notorious, so high profile, that the threat of vigilante attacks upon them in the community was deemed to be real. Because of this, the courts took the unusual step of granting them lifelong anonymity, shielding them from harm and giving them a second chance at life, under the supervision of the Probation Service.Many applauded this decision, pointing out that most of these offenders were only children themselves when their offences were committed. But others felt it was misguided, uncomfortable that these convicted criminals were now out and about in the community, invisible and undetected. Normally if a child sex offender moves into your neighbourhood, you have the right to know about it, thanks to Sarah’s Law. But not with these nine. Which some think is odd, given the grievous nature of their crimes and the fact that at least one of them has gone on to commit serious, sexually motivated offences since their release.Over the years, several attempts have been made to ‘out’ these individuals, the British tabloid press in particular making strenuous efforts to track them down. None have succeeded, the nine criminals remaining concealed and protected to this day. In Eye for an Eye, a fictional take on this subject matter, I explore what would happen if someone did manage to release the new identities and whereabouts of these notorious offenders – not to the press, news outlets or the internet, but directly to the bereaved families themselves. Would the result be ‘natural justice’, these transgressors finally made to feel the full weight of their awful crimes? Or would it be an invitation to vigilantism, blood lust and mob rule?How would you feel if you finally came face to face with your child’s killer?Matthew Arlidge, July 2023. Day One Chapter 1He sensed them before he saw them. Was it a flickering shadow, the sound of shallow breathing, a clumsy footstep that gave them away? Or was it his finely tuned senses that alerted him to their presence, those survival instincts that had kept him alive for so long? Either way, one thing was certain. They had found him.Clamping down his terror, Mark Willis kept walking. Beads of sweat clung to his forehead, his heart pounded, but he maintained a steady pace, scanning the shadowy buildings and walkways. The Rumworth Estate was a miserable place, haunted by dropouts, junkies and the terminally poor, but Mark liked it here, especially after midnight, when he could come and go as he pleased. He relished these fleeting moments of freedom, when all the misery, hurt and violence of the past seemed to melt away, when he felt invisible and secure. He’d been enjoying himself tonight, sauntering undetected towards his tiny flat, five pints of cheap lager provoking feelings of carelessness, even euphoria. But in an instant, everything had changed. Now he felt stone cold sober, his mind clear, his body tensed for flight, aware of the mortal danger he was in.How had they located him? What had given him away? It seemed impossible. He’d been so careful, so cautious – inhabiting his new identity, making a life for himself in this new town – yet somehow they knew. The next few minutes would determine whether he escaped retribution or died a brutal death, his only hope the element of surprise, a sudden, unexpected dash for freedom. But which direction should he head in? Down which path should he run? Get it right and he might walk away from this unscathed, but get it wrong …There. He wasn’t imagining it. This time he definitely heard a footstep amidst the shadows of Lancaster House, the most rundown of the five tower blocks that marred this blighted corner of Bolton. He arrowed a look in the direction of the mouldering tenement building, expecting to see a bulky silhouette in the shadows, but to his surprise his attacker now cast off caution entirely, stepping out into the sickly glow of the lampposts.Mark caught his breath, stumbling slightly, unable to process what he was seeing. The figure was tall and powerful, dressed in steel-capped boots, dirty jeans and a black bomber jacket. In his gloved hand, he gripped a crowbar, the sickening curve of its hook illuminated by the dull, sodium lights. This was enough to chill Mark’s blood, but it was the figure’s face that provoked a choked scream in his throat. Two beady, black eyes peered out from a latex pig mask, rendering his assailant inhuman, animalistic and cruel.The figure was advancing towards him, picking up speed. Panicking, Mark spun, heading fast towards York House and the subterranean walkway that might yet lead him to safety, but he’d hardly taken a step when he ground to a halt. Another masked figure stepped out in front of him, cutting off his escape.