Val McDermid 3-Book Thriller Collection: The Mermaids Singing, The Wire in the Blood, The Last Temptation

Carol shrugged. ‘I could do with a few superheroes to help out, to be honest.’

‘What’s this profiler like? He going to shake things up a bit?’

‘Tony Hill? He already has. Popeye’s going around with a face like a melted wellie. But I’m hopeful we might get something constructive out of him. I’ve had one session with him already, and he’s bursting with ideas. He’s a nice guy as well, no hassle to work with.’

Michael grinned. ‘That must be a refreshing change.’

‘You’re not kidding.’

‘And is he your type?’

Carol pulled a piece of crust off her bread and threw it at Michael. ‘God, you’re as bad as the sexist pigs I work with. I haven’t got a type, and even if I did and Tony Hill was it, you know I won’t mix work with pleasure.’

‘Given the fact that you work all hours and spend all your spare time asleep, I guess you’re looking at a lifetime of celibacy,’ Michael replied drily. ‘So is he gorgeous, or what?’

‘I hadn’t noticed,’ Carol said stiffly. ‘And I doubt whether he’s even noticed I’m female. The man’s a workaholic. In fact, he’s the reason I’m working again tonight. He wants to see the scenes of crime at around the time the bodies were dumped so he can get a feel for it.’

‘Shame you’ve got to go out again,’ Michael said. ‘It’s ages since we’ve had a night in with the telly and a few bottles of wine. We see so little of each other just now, we might as well be married.’

Carol smiled ruefully. ‘The price of success, eh, bro?’

‘I guess so.’ Michael got up. ‘Oh well, if you’re going to work, I might as well do a couple of hours before I sack out.’

‘Before you go … I need a favour.’

Michael sat down again. ‘As long as it doesn’t involve doing your ironing.’

‘What do you know about statistical pattern analysis?’

Michael frowned. ‘Not a lot. I did a little bit when I was doing part-time jobbing work while I was doing my PhD, but I don’t know what’s state of the art right now. Why? You want something looking at?’

Carol nodded. ‘It’s a bit grisly, I’m afraid.’ She outlined the sadistic injuries to Damien Connolly. ‘Tony Hill has an idea they might yield some kind of a message.’

‘Sure, I’ll have a look for you. I know a bloke who’s almost certainly got the latest software in the field. I’m sure he’d let me have some time on his machine to fiddle about with this,’ Michael said.

‘Not a word to anybody what it’s about,’ Carol said.

Michael looked offended. ‘Of course not. What do you take me for? Listen, I’d rather get on the wrong side of a serial killer than you. I’ll keep my mouth shut. Just get the stuff to me tomorrow, and I’ll do my best, OK?’

Carol leaned over and rumpled her brother’s blond hair. ‘Thank you. I appreciate it.’

Michael grabbed her in a quick hug. ‘This is seriously weird territory, little sis. Be careful out there, huh? You know I can’t afford the mortgage on this place alone.’

‘I’m always careful,’ Carol said, ignoring the small voice inside her warning not to tempt fate. ‘I’m a survivor.’

FROM 3½″ DISK LABELLED: BACKUP.007; FILE LOVE.006

‘I wanted you the first time I saw you,’ I said softly. ‘I’ve wanted you for so long.’

Adam’s lolling head straightened slightly. I pressed the remote record button on the tripod-mounted video camera. I didn’t want to miss a thing. Adam’s eyelids, heavy from all that chloroform, struggled open to a slit, then suddenly snapped wide as memory kicked in. His head thrashed from side to side as he tried to see where he was, how he was restrained. As he took in his nakedness, spotted the details of the soft leather wrist and ankle cuffs, and realized that he was fastened to my rack, a moan of what sounded like panic escaped from behind the tape over his mouth.

I stepped out of the shadows behind him and moved into his line of vision, my body oiled and shining in the bright lights. I had stripped down to my underwear, carefully chosen to show off my superb body to its best advantage. When he saw me, his eyes opened even wider. He attempted to speak, but all that came out was a strained mumble.

‘But you decided you couldn’t allow yourself to want me, didn’t you?’ I said, my voice hard and accusing. ‘You betrayed my love. You didn’t have the courage to choose a love that would have exalted us both. No, you ignored your real self and went for a stupid little bimbo, that trashy tart. Don’t you realize? I’m the only one in the world who understands, really understands, what you need. I could have given you ecstasy, but you chose the safe, pathetic option. You didn’t have the nerve for a marriage of true minds and bodies, did you?’

Drops of sweat were trickling down his temples, in spite of the coolness of the cellar. I moved forward and stroked his body, running my hand over his pale, muscular chest, fluttering my fingers over his groin. He flinched convulsively, his dark-blue eyes pleading. ‘How could you betray what I know is in your heart?’ I hissed, digging my nails into the soft flesh above the wiry curls of his dark pubic hair. He tensed against me. I thrilled to the sensation. I took my hand away and admired the scarlet half-moons my nails had left in his skin. ‘You know you belong to me. You told me. You wanted me, we both know you did.’

Another groan from behind the gag. Now the sweat had spread to his chest, droplets matting the thick dark hair that tapered down his abdomen into a thin line pointing to his cock lying curled and useless as a slug between his legs. Even though it was obvious that he didn’t want me, the very sight of his vulnerable nakedness aroused me. He was beautiful. I could feel the blood flowing faster, feel my flesh expanding, ready to take him, ready to explode. I hated myself for that weakness, and I turned away before he could see the effect he was having.

‘All I wanted was to love you,’ I said quietly. ‘I didn’t want it to be like this.’ My hand strayed to the handle of the rack and caressed the smooth wood. I turned my head and gazed at Adam’s beautiful face. Slowly, infinitely slowly, I started to turn the handle. His body, already taut, tightened against the pull of the straps. His effort was wasted. The gears on the winding mechanism multiplied my small exertion till it equalled the strength of several men. Adam was no match for my machine. I could see the muscles of his arms and legs bulge, his chest heaving as he struggled for breath.

‘It’s not too late,’ I said. ‘We could still be lovers. Would you like that?’

Desperately, he moved his head. There was no mistaking it, it was a nod. I smiled. ‘That’s more like it,’ I said. ‘Now all you have to do is show me you mean it.’

I ran one hand over his damp chest, then rubbed my face against the fine dark hairs. I could smell his fear, taste it in his sweat. I buried my head in his neck, sucking and biting, nibbling his ears. His body stayed rigid, but I felt no trace of an erection beneath me. Frustrated, I pulled away. I leaned over him and, in one swift agonizing movement, I yanked the tape away from his mouth.

‘Aagh!’ he yelled as the adhesive ripped his skin, rasping on the faint stubble. He licked dry lips. ‘Please, let me go,’ he whispered.

I shook my head. ‘I can’t do that, Adam. Maybe if we were really lovers …’

‘I won’t tell anyone,’ he croaked. ‘I promise.’

‘You betrayed me once,’ I said sadly. ‘How can I trust you now?’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I didn’t realize … I’m sorry.’ But there was no penitence in his eyes, only desperation and fear. I’d played this scene so many times in my head. Part of me exulted that I’d predicted the shape of it so well, that the dialogue was almost identical to the scenario I’d conjured up. Part of me felt an inexpressible sadness that he was exactly as weak and faithless as I’d feared. And yet another part of me was almost uncontrollably excited by what lay ahead, whether love or death, or both.

‘It’s too late for words,’ I said. ‘It’s time for actions. You said you wanted us to be lovers, but that’s not what your body’s saying. Maybe you’re scared. But there’s no need to be. I’m a generous person, a loving person. You could find that out for yourself. I’m going to give you one last chance to atone for your betrayal. I’m going to leave you now for a while. When I come back, I expect you to be able to control your fear and show me how you really feel about me.’

I let him go and walked over to the camcorder. I took out the tape that had been recording our encounter and replaced it with a fresh one. At the top of the stairs, I turned back. ‘Otherwise, I’ll be forced to administer punishment for your treachery.’

‘Wait!’ he howled desperately as I disappeared from sight. ‘Come back,’ I heard as I dropped the trapdoor into place. I expect he carried on yelling. But I couldn’t hear him. I went upstairs to Auntie Doris and Uncle Henry’s bedroom. I slotted the video into the player I’d set up on the chest at the end of the bed, switched on the TV and climbed between the cold cotton sheets. Even if Adam didn’t want me, I couldn’t escape my desire for him. I watched him on his rack, my hand stroking me, touching myself with all the skill and ingenuity I wanted from him, imagining his beautiful cock swelling in my mouth. Every time I reached the point of orgasm, I stopped, gripping myself tight, forcing myself not to come, to save myself for what lay ahead. After I’d gone through the video for the fourth time, I decided he’d had long enough.

I slipped out of bed and went back downstairs. I looked at him spread-eagled on the rack. ‘Please,’ he said. ‘Let me go. I’ll do anything you want, but let me go. I’m begging you.’

I smiled and gently shook my head. ‘I will take you back to Bradfield, Adam. But first, it’s time to party.’

6 (#ulink_cb345104-6854-520e-abbd-71381e050b14)

People begin to see that something more goes to the composition of a fine murder than two blockheads to kill and be killed – a knife – a purse – and a dark lane. Design, gentlemen, grouping, light and shade, poetry, sentiment, are now deemed to be indispensable to attempts of this nature.

Work might not solve anything, but it was a great diversionary tactic. Tony stared into the screen, scrolling down through the tabulated information he’d gleaned from the police reports. Satisfied that he’d incorporated everything useful, he switched on the printer. While it chattered and stuttered its way through the print-out, Tony opened another file and started to sketch out the conclusions he had drawn from the raw data. Anything, anything to keep her at bay.

He was so absorbed in his work he barely registered the doorbell’s first peal. When it rang out a second time, he looked up, startled, at the clock. Five past eleven. If it was Carol, she was earlier than he’d anticipated. They’d already agreed that there was little point in beginning their trip before midnight. Tony got to his feet, uncertain. Since she knew his phone number, it wouldn’t be too hard for Angelica to discover his address too. He arrived at the front door just as the bell rang for the third time. Wishing he’d installed a peephole, Tony cautiously inched the door open.

Carol grinned. ‘You look like you’re expecting Handy Andy,’ she said. When Tony said nothing, she added, ‘Sorry I’m a bit early. I did try ringing, but you were engaged.’

‘Sorry,’ Tony mumbled. ‘I must have accidentally left it off the hook from earlier. Come on in, it’s no problem.’ He found a smile from somewhere and led Carol into his study. As he reached his desk, he slid the phone back on the hook.