I couldn't get to the station fast enough. I had been waiting for a character like this for so long. 20 years battling the petty thieves, car robbers and burglars of this small town was hardly the stuff that would lead to a book deal. The new PC Johnson had really come good here. At first I thought her too soft to ever be a good police officer. But here she was, 5 weeks into the new job and bringing in some sicko who had been applying makeup to a dead body in his car. This was a real weirdo, this was national TV, this was a career defining moment.

I took a good look at him through the one way mirror into the interview room. What a meek looking fucker he was. Skinny, weed of a body. Specs so big they made his eyes ogle like spotlights forging out from his childlike face. His dark hair parted and greased to a small, circular head. He was well dressed, in an expensive, dark suit. I sipped my black coffee. 'Showtime!' I whispered.

I walked confidently into the interview room, refusing any eye contact until I had sat down and allowed a few seconds of awkward silence to build.

'My name is Chief Inspector Dyer, what's yours?'

'Adam…Adam Black Sir.' His voice matched his meek exterior.

'Well Mr Black, it seems you've had quite an interesting day. Why don't you tell me all about it, right from the beginning.'

'From the beginning?'

'Yep. I want to know it all, right from the moment you woke up.' I sat back with a cocky anticipation.

'Well,…I woke up about 7am as I always do.'

'And what do you do when you get up Mr Black?'

'Shower, coffee, a quick read of the paper, then I get to work.'

'Get to work?'

'On the bodies, down in the basement.'

'You said that so matter of fact Mr Black.'

'Well, you get used to it.' He sipped his tea.

'How many bodies are there Mr Black?'

'Today, three.'

'And what about yesterday and the days before?'

He puffed his cheeks. 'Must be hundreds, at least four hundred.'

I paused  few moments. He was so calm about it all. This was the real deal, a prolific serial killer here in my small town police station.

'Did all of these bodies come into your basement?'

'Yes, that’s where I do my work on them.'

'What exactly is that work Mr Black?'

'Well, I have to make them look presentable. This starts off with the makeup.'

'The bag we found on you.'

'Yes, I don't usually take it out of the basement but yesterday was an exception.'

'Did you apply makeup to the three bodies yesterday?'

'Yes.'

'From 8am?'

'Yes, it takes me around half an hour a body.'

'So, what did you do next, from 9.30am?'

'I dressed them.'

'Why?'

'To make them look beautiful.' I could feel my heart beating, that last comment actually scared me.

'Do you find it easy to dress dead bodies Mr Black?'

'It comes easier with practice. I'm very good these days'

I let an awkward silence ensue, partly to think of my next question carefully.

'How long did it take you to dress the bodies Mr Black?'

'About an hour.'

'And then what did you do?'

'I took the first one out.'

'Out? What do you mean outside?'

'I take them outside and into the big car.'

'Don't people see you with the bodies?'

'Yes, usually they do.'

'What do they say?'

'Usually they are too upset to say anything much.'

'Do you blame them?'

'No, it is difficult.'

'Did you take all 3 bodies out Mr Black.'

'One at a time, so yes.'

'At what time did you take each body out?'

'The first one around midday, the second at 2.30pm and the third at 4pm.'

'Where you seen on all three occasions?'

'Yes, there were many tears.' He crossed his right hand over his face and chest in the sign of the crucifix. I stared for a while, wondering how such a man could be religious.

'Mr Black, we found you up at 6pm with a body in your car, was this one of the three?'

'No, that was a fourth I had just picked up.'

'Picked up? From where?'

'From a small flat on Kent Road. An old man, alone, no family, no friends. Quite sad really'

'An easy target Mr Black?'

'Yes, I suppose he was.'

'So you make a habit of driving corpses around in your VW Golf Mr Black?'

'No, that was a little silly. Usually I use the big car, but I was in the area and wanted to save   some time.'

'Why were you applying makeup Mr Black, I thought you do that in your basement?'

'Well the VW is far more visible than the big car, I didn’t want to upset anyone who may see him in there with me.' I took a sip of my coffee once more, again to give me time to ponder my response.

'That’s very thoughtful of you considering all that you've said Mr Black. You certainly frightened our new PC when she stopped you for a routine road tax check.'

'Yes that was unfortunate.'

'For her, or for you Mr Black?'

'Is she okay?'

'A little shaken, but the she's never met the likes of you before.'

'The likes of me? What are you suggesting?'

'You tell me Mr Black, what words would you use to describe a man like you. A man with dead bodies in his basement. Who applies make up to them and dresses them so he can take them outside? Who shows no remorse, even after four hundred bodies, what would you call such a man?'

'Why….a funeral director I suppose.'