[Transcribed telephone conversation. Verity Cooper to Tristram Spencer. Verity asking about the dismemberment. (2/2)]

Verity: And you didn't enjoy it? Have an erection, or violate the body, or anything weird like that?

Tristram: Of course not! It was the most abominable thing I've ever experienced! The smells alone ensure that no human can support that... not the real deal, anyhow. It was gruesome, nightmarish, sickening... but it was not fucking enjoyable. I loved him! D'you think slicing his genitals off from the underside didn't make me retch? Oh, it was... it's beyond words, that's what it was. I'm haunted by what I did, not turned on by it.

Verity: But if it hadn't smelt so bad it would have been OK? It wasn't the act that sickened you but the smells?

Tristram: Uh no, now you're putting words into my mouth. You're picking up and scrutinizing throw away language. That's not fair. It was physically and psychologically horrifying. I was pulling apart the man I loved, still love, just knowing that makes it almost unbearable. But I never meant to hurt him.

Verity: Never meant to hurt him??? You bashed the poor guys skull in and then hacked him into joints of meat! Of course you meant to hurt him. And when you told me, didn't it cross your mind that I am Vegan... VEGETARIAN!!!

Tristram: I had to tell someone, and I'm sorry it was you, I am, but I couldn't keep this to myself any longer. It's scaring the shit out of me, I'm having nightmares, I'm... I'm losing my mind Vee. You've gotta help me, please, in any way you can...

(Tristram crying. Verity waits, silent)

Verity: Are you Ok?

Tristram: Um

Verity: You do know that by telling me what you've done, you've made me an accomplice to murder? If I don't tell, I am also a part of your crime. Did you not think for a moment of the burden that this would put on me? And not just the legal burden, the ethical and emotional too...

Tristram: Oh God, no, you're right, and no, I didn't even consider that. Oh I'm so...

Verity: But you considered YOUR legal burden – every fucking step of the way! That's why you destroyed the body, so as not to go to prison. But not for a second did you consider me, or probably anyone else. D'you realise how selfish that is? You've unburdened yourself by putting half the weight on me.

Tristram: It's not like that. I didn't think to intentionally throw that on you. I see it's selfish, I just didn't mean...

Verity: You don't mean much! What is this? Bashing lovers dead: “accident.” Cutting them up: “didn't mean it, bad decision.” Burdening me: “Sorry, wasn't thinking.” No, but you think well enough when it comes to you. I'm sure you've even planned how to get rid of the wheelchair, the fucking super dong thing, the carpet... I bet you've planned it all. But you couldn't manage one thought for what you would be laying on me. You fucking.... fucking idiot!!!

Tristram: Will you tell the police?

Verity: Oh, surprise, surprise... YOU, again! Understand this please: If I tell the police it will not be to get YOU into trouble, but to get ME out of trouble! That decision would be about ME not YOU. I will not become an accomplice to murder like that! It was not fair of you.

Tristram: I know and I'm sorry, I'm...

Verity: We've not finished yet! Apologize at the end. There's more I want to know, like what's this shit with the cling-film? It seems a bit fetishistic... what's that about? Why not bury the body without wrapping it?

Tristram: I don't know. I don't know about burying bodies. I thought it may help to slow down the decomposition, or at least mask the smell a little. Also, in say 12 months, the evidence will be contained. But I suppose more than anything it was just me being tidy, making it look a bit nicer.

Verity: Jesus. Tristram, I'm listening to you and I'm astounded at some of the things which are coming from your mouth. Do you hear yourself? Fuck! You know, I always thought Tristram Spencer was a bit of an act: the medical inserts; the staring, watching, counting; the Casio calculator; the meticulous, pathetic observations, but now I realize that it really is you... That you probably really did count all the leaves on the silver birch tree. God, God!

And the body. You mentioned the smell. Do you not think the neighbours will be able to smell rotting, decomposing hunks of corpse in the fucking window boxes?

Tristram: I don't think so. The window boxes are pretty far from snooping noses and by the time the air's got a hold of any scent, I think it will be undetectable. Think about it, cemeteries don't smell.

Verity: Oh yeah, and have you never heard of the saying 'Six Feet Under'! Maybe 'Two Inches Under' will be a very different story. Also, perhaps cemeteries put something in with the bodies... lime or lye or something??? It's just crazy Tristram. I've just come out of jail and I don't want to go back.

Tristram: I don't want to go there either.

Verity: Then you shouldn't go around killing and cutting up your lovers! God, there were so many things you could have done, that's what keeps coming to mind. Why this, why?

Tristram: I've tortured myself with the same questions, but that's how it went down. What I would do now to have John back... to be able to abandon him to the dogs. Wheel him to the hospital and say “Take him back!” But it's too late. What's done is done. He's in the window boxes, dead. All that's left is do we let this destroy all our lives or do we make some offensive to stay out of trouble? I'm sorry I've compromised your freedom, I'm sorry, but I've only compromised your freedom if you don't inform on me. But, if you're going to the police you need to tell me... surely twelve years of friendship is worth that? I don't blame you if you do go, just I need to know about it, please, tell me?

Verity: You know I'm not going to go to the police!!! You shit! That's why I'm so fucking angry! You know it. But that doesn't mean I accept what you've done; I do not and never will. Neither can you ever say anything that will justify it. The actual assault, death, ok.... but no amount of insanity can justify the chopping up of the body and the cold detachment which that must take. It's scary... to be able to disconnect your feelings to that extent is a scary, scary thing. So I will not go to the police, but under certain conditions.

Tristram: What conditions?

Verity: One, when you're caught, and you will be caught, you never mention that I knew. No matter how desperate you become, you must never metion that. Two, unless I ask, I do not want to know anything more about this. Not how you plan to, or indeed do get rid of evidence. I don't want to know. It's too dangerous. Three, under no circumstances do you involve me in your alibi. You do not use me at all for that, 'cause I will tell you now, if the police do question me for any reason, over anything, I will only tell the truth as I know it. I will not lie to cover your tracks. Got that?

Tristram: Yes.

Verity: Ok.

Tristram: Where do we go from here?

Verity: Well, you put the phone down and I'll do the same and then we head off to our beds and keep in contact as ever – no more and no less. That's where we go from here.

Tristram: That sounds good, just before we go can I ask you one thing?

Verity: Go on...

Tristram: Did you like John?

Verity: Truthfully, no. He gave me the creeps. I thought he was secretive and distant and emotionally introverted. I supported him just for you. It was you I wanted to be around, but I was scared that your relationship with John would push me out, that John would come between us, even stop you from seeing me. I didn't want that. And so I took a policy of neutrality, I became Switzerland - as much John's confidant as yours. But although I wasn't overly fond of him, I'd never have wanted him to come to this! You should have just told him to “Fuck off!” That was all the violence it needed, that was all. Goodnight Tristy.

Tristram: Goodnight Vee... Goodnight and thank you.


  1. At the beginning of this I thought Verity was an unreasonable bitch - but by the end she comes across as sane and reasonable.

    However, I don't do sane and reasonable so I say

    Kill the bitch!

    She's absolutely right about the cling film and the detachment - you're a natural born serial killer!

    One piece of advice:

    Don't even think of flushing the evidence.

    Unless you WANT to get caught.

    The Nerdettes have SHELVES of books on serial killers. Unlike most teens (and me) they're not interested in the gruesome pics but in compiling statistics: most popular methods of murder/highest victim tally/top 10 reasons for arrest:

    Apparently the most frequent reason for capture is blocking drains with decomposing body parts - which end up smelling the neighborhood out,leading to investigation.

    However I believe you already know what to do about the evidence, whether consciously or not:

    There's a phrase in your exchange with V above that indicates that...

  2. Mrs Winthrope, I think Verity kinda goes a bit hysterical and crazy with alcohol but essentially she was always quite measured and reliable. I think her first real inroduction was laying down her rules of how she would behave/mediate (neutrally) between Tristram and John whilst he was first in the psychiatric hospital. So she's always been that, but of course, she spends her spare time having breakdowns of her own. I think she's right at that age where she will either become a full blown alcoholic and emotional wreck, or will mature into everyone's favourite stable person. She's maybe fighting with that, having her last few bottles of gin before she says goodbye to youth.

    No, there'll be no flushing... we've learnt where that leads. Anyway, if the window boxes do their job there'll be no need for that, only bones left. I just hope a fucing 'John Plant' doesn't spring up out front... that'll give the game away.

    What phrase indicates my intentions?

    Oh, in that phone conversation Verity was also meant to ask about the plans John told her he had found of me torturing and killing him, but it totally slipped my mind. She'll have to phone back in a day or so with that one. X

  3. The phrase?

    '... to be able to abandon him to the dogs'.


    Clearly you're not quite as sick as me.


  4. Good old Verity she is a good sport xx
    But I have to say.. you may need to kill the bitch one day you know that don't you :) xx

  5. @ Abigail: Oh you may be onto something there... but I doebt it's quite what you're thinking. X

    @ Wildernesschic: She's a good sport and I must be careful what I write here because she maybe reading... but yes, I know I may need a another 8 window boxes very soon. X

    @ Jim: And we haven't even put the corn flour in yet! X


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