As the police left, Arthur came out from the storeroom. Brian was still standing in the backyard looking at his truck. He turned as he heard Arthur's footsteps. "So, it was you," said Brian smiling. "Yes, it was me, who else you were expecting," Arthur smiled too. He was proud of himself, he felt like boosting.
"I had gone to the woods again and saw that the police had taken tire samples. I knew you would be in danger. Your pharmacy phone was unreachable. I drove fast, but when I reached the police were already questioning you. I ran back here and changed the tires." Said Arthur in one breadth.
"But one thing I don't understand, why the truck did not start?" inquired Brian. Arthur walked with grace to the truck's bonnet like a magician revealing his final trick. Arthur opened the bonnet and showed Brian that he had removed the battery wires. "I knew Margaret would not be so easily discouraged, she will want to find some little fault and will arrest you, so I made the truck completely useless by taking out the battery wires," explained Arthur.
Brian was ready to go to jail, he had accepted his fate. But he had never imagined Arthur would take so many risks to save him. Today his apprentice had done him a big favor and Brian needed to do something in return. "My friend, you have done the unimaginable for me, I owe you my remaining independent life. Tell me what do you want? And I'll give it to you" offered Brian.
Arthur smiled, "I don't need anything, I have learned a lot from you. Now, I just need to focus on my novel and all my life problems will be solved."
"How?" Brian asked. "Well, I will get money from the publisher to give to Nadia so she doesn't have to work anymore overtime. I can pay for Daniel's coaching. Get my car repaired etc." explained Arthur.
"Then do this already. I save almost everything I make here at the pharmacy. I can pay for your family and your expenditure. You deserve this." Offered Brian.
"No, I just need to finish my novel. That will be enough." Said, Arthur.
"Okay! I'll book you a nice hotel in the town. Where you can forget the world and finish up your work," said Brian.
Arthur was intrigued, but he said, "No-no the motel is fine. I did write some good pages in the morning."
"When was the last time you had a proper meal, Arthur. That place doesn't have a table and chair. I'm booking the hotel. We will go there, I will drop you, bring your car here and by the time you had written your novel your car will be in top shape. Agreed?" asked Brian.
Arthur did want a good meal and wanted to sleep on a soft bed desperately. The car too was about to fall apart. "Yes!" Arthur agreed.
Brian also mentioned one more thing," Just money won't solve your problem, you need therapy too."
Therapy. A serial killer is suggesting therapy to an Author and an ex-cop. It was beyond ironic. But Arthur didn't say anything. He just asked, "You think I need therapy?"
"Yes, your wife did not throw you out because you were not getting published, but she did it to save herself and her son from your anger," said Brian. Arthur realized Brian was right. "If a therapist can talk to Nadia, it will be easier for me to get back to her," said Arthur.
Arthur started to feel saving Brian was the best decision of his life. Arthur was now in a luxury hotel in the heart of the town. His room had a big window with a view of the pool. "This is good," Arthur said as he planned on writing at the pool in the hot summer days. There was a big tv, a workstation, and a nice wardrobe too. Arthur had dumped all his clothes in the wardrobe. Maybe the housekeeping will settle his clothes for him he assumed.
Arthur changed into shorts and a shirt and went to the pool, he ordered pasta and some wine. He ate like it was his last meal and had a siesta.
By the evenings he had started to write again. This place was airconditioned, the motel had ac too but it was useless. Arthur wrote as he had never written before. Every hour he ordered a coffee and drank it while looking at the pool.
Arthur had weekly Therapy visits too. Her therapist found out that the stress he got on the job as a cop had some effect on his psychology. Arthur did all the tasks the therapists gave and was showing improvement. He was getting an upper hand on his anger now.
In a few weeks, Arthur had completed his first draft. Now the only thing left to do was drop at the publisher's office and show them his work. It had been closed to a month since Arthur had met or talked to Brian. Brian too did not disturb Arthur.
Every night before sleeping Arthur used to check the news. Officer Margaret had not been able to solve the case yet. The media had several speculations as to why the Autopsy killer had suddenly gone into slumber. Arthur wondered this too, "Why has Arthur stopped killing, what is he busy with?"
Arthur called Brian and asked him for a lift to the publishing office. Arthur could have called a cab and put it on the hotel bill but strangely Arthur wanted to meet Brian before he submitted the manuscript as if it was Brian's biography, which it's kind of was.
Arthur waited outside the hotel and a new shiny car stopped right in front of him. It was the same model that Arthur had, the same color too. Of course, Arthur's was a piece of junk and the color had long faded. But the color felt familiar. The windows rolled down and, on the driver's, seat was Brian.
"How do you like your ride Arthur?" Brian asked. Arthur was surprised, "Oh my god Brian! I cannot believe that this is my car!"