PERFECT SHADOWS

15

PERFECT SHADOWS 15 FINALE

Selene sat back in her chair, her burned arm resting lightly on the table. The scar was still visible, faint but real. She spoke calmly.

“After the antifreeze, some of them started getting better,” she said. “Especially Adrian.”

Jaco listened without blinking.

“He got stronger. Angry again.”

Her eyes hardened slightly.

“One night he threw boiling oil at me.”

Jaco’s eyes moved to her arm again.

“It landed here,” she said, touching the scar. “He said I was useless. Even sick, he was still himself.”

She continued like she was explaining a recipe.

“So I adjusted.”

She explained how she had stopped giving antifreeze to some of them so they could recover slightly. Enough to move around. Enough to believe it was just bad food.

“I created false news articles,” she said. “Small online posts. Saying people caught a virus from a restaurant we visited.”

Jaco frowned.

“You manipulated public forums?”

She nodded. “Local groups. Fake accounts. It spreads quickly. People believe what they read.”

She leaned forward.

“When Adrian started feeling better, I added hydrochloric acid to his alcohol. Very small amounts. Gradually.”

Jaco felt his stomach tighten.

“He liked drinking alone at night,” she said. “It was easy.”

Her voice remained steady.

“He became sick again. Worse this time.”

She clasped her hands together.

“By then, everything was ready. All the evidence. All the files. The trafficking records. The hacked emails.”

She looked at him carefully.

“I had already stacked everything to be exposed publicly and during the interview process.”

Jaco realised she had layered her crimes with protection. She had built a storm around herself before lighting the match. She suddenly grinned.

“But no,” she said lightly. “I’m making this too easy for you.”

Jaco narrowed his eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“There’s a new deal on the table.”

He leaned forward slightly. “What deal?”

She tilted her head.

“You find the eleventh victim.”

The room went still.

“Find who it is. Where they are. And I’ll tell you exactly what I did. Step by step.”

Jaco’s pulse quickened.

“There were ten confirmed bodies,” he said slowly.

Selene smiled faintly.

“You assumed ten.”

“Do you have any details?” he asked carefully.

She studied him for a moment.

“The eleventh victim helped Adrian,” she said. “In many ways. In subduing me.”

Her eyes held his.

“It’s not Sloan.”

Jaco’s mind raced. He searched faces in his memory. Family friends. Business partners. Associates.

“You know him,” she said softly.

That word landed heavy. Him. Selene stood up slowly.

“We’ll talk again when you find the body,” she said calmly.

She adjusted her sleeve over the scar.

“In the meantime,” she added with a small smile, “I think I might be visiting Paris soon.”

Jaco stared at her. The confidence in her voice was not hopeful. It was certain. She walked to the door as the guard opened it. For a moment she paused and looked back at him. Then she stepped out. Jaco remained seated. Eleventh victim. A man. Someone he knew. The room suddenly felt colder. And for the first time since this case began, he felt something close to fear.

......

Detective Jaco sat alone in his office. The station had gone quiet. He spread out every file Selene had given them.

Statements. Lists of names. Bank records. Travel logs. Medical reports. He searched every name again. One by one. Nothing. No missing persons reports. No unidentified bodies. No connections that stood out. He searched faces in the database. Cross-checked family friends. Business partners. Old school mates. Two hours passed. Still nothing. The eleventh victim did not exist on paper. Or he was hiding in plain sight. Jaco leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes.

“You know him,” she had said.

The words would not leave him alone. Frustrated, tired, he packed the files into his bag and went home. That night he did not speak much to his wife. He lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Eventually, sleep took him. At 03:02 his phone rang. He answered without looking.

“Van der Merwe.”

The voice on the other side was panicked.

“Detective - it’s the prison.”

He sat up immediately.

“What about it?”

“There’s a problem.”

His heart began to pound.

“What problem?”

“We were doing a routine changeover about thirty minutes ago.”

“And?”

There was hesitation.

“Selene Marlowe is gone.”

Silence. Jaco felt cold all over.

“Explain,” he said slowly.

“She left hours ago, sir. After her interview with you.”

His mind struggled to catch up.

“That’s impossible. I saw her escorted back.”

“Yes, sir. CCTV shows her entering the corridor.”

“And?”

The officer swallowed audibly.

“She never made it to her cell.”

Jaco swung his legs off the bed.

“Check the cameras.”

“We did.”

“And?”

“They glitched, sir.”

His grip tightened on the phone.

“For how long?”

“Seven minutes.”

Seven minutes. That was all it took.

“She signed no release forms,” the officer continued. “No transfer orders. No external movement recorded.”

Jaco stood up, already reaching for his clothes.

“She’s on her way to Paris,” he muttered under his breath.

“Sir?”

“Lock down airports. Private terminals. Border posts. Now.”

He ended the call. His heart was racing. This was not panic. This was precision. She had told him. In the interview room. With that smile.

“I think I might be visiting Paris.”

She had not hoped. She had informed him. Jaco drove through empty streets at high speed. Blue lights from patrol cars were already flashing ahead in the distance. The prison gates were chaos when he arrived. Officers running. Phones ringing. Orders being shouted. He went straight to the control room.

“Show me the footage.”

They replayed it. Selene walking calmly down the corridor. Two guards behind her. Then. Static. A flicker. Seven minutes of blank screen. When the footage returned, the corridor was empty. The guards? Also gone.

“Where are the officers who escorted her?” Jaco demanded.

“Missing, sir.”

His blood ran cold. They were not escaping. They were being played. He stared at the frozen image of Selene just before the glitch. She had been smiling. Not wide. Just enough. She had planned this before she surrendered. Before she collapsed. Before she cried. Before she exposed anyone. Every move had been layered. The arrest. The interviews. The international pressure. The FBI twin. The eleventh victim. All of it distraction. All of it noise. And now-

She was free. Not running. Advancing. Jaco stepped back slowly from the screen. Somewhere out there, Selene Marlowe was already ahead. And he had the sinking feeling that this was not an escape. It was the next phase. They were not hunting her. They were being guided. And he did not know toward what. The psychological game had shifted. And for the first time, Detective Jaco van der Merwe realised.

He had never been in control.