As the door opened Callanach took a step in front of Natasha. There had been an eerie quality to King’s voice as he’d spoken her name, part childlike, part menacing – the bully who offers sweets to lure a smaller child behind a tree to hurt them unseen.
Ava’s face was battered. One cheek was badly swollen but she was still standing. That was good. Across the far side of the room, a woman was tied by the wrists to a metal, hospital-style headboard. Her face and body were covered with a blanket. Only her arms were visible. She was moaning and chanting.
King was only partially visible, his body shielded by another female, this one upside down, hanging from a beam by ropes tied around her ankles. The state of the floor below showed she’d already lost some blood. She’d lose consciousness if they didn’t get her down soon. King was holding a long, serrated kitchen knife to her jugular. One wrong move and she’d be beyond help.
‘Reginald,’ Callanach said. ‘My name’s Luc. Can we talk without the knife, do you think?’
‘Don’t even start with the Psychology for Dummies speech, DI Callanach. I’m beyond it. It’s Natasha I want to talk to. Can I call you by your first name, here?’ he asked her sarcastically. ‘As I’m in my own home, where you’re no longer my superior. I guess I’m not welcome back at the University anyway. Human Resources probably doesn’t have a standard warning letter on file for this scenario.’ He laughed and Natasha brushed Callanach’s restraining hand off her arm to step into the room.
‘You’re not going to hurt that girl are you, Dr King?’ Natasha said.
‘Why do you care?’ King asked. ‘You never cared about me, never asked my opinion, never once in all the time we worked together did you enquire how I was. But this girl, this faeces on the shoe of humanity, her you care about.’
‘We had a working relationship, the same as I do with every other member of the department. I’m sorry you thought I didn’t pay you enough attention.’ She took another step towards Billie, showing King she was unafraid. Callanach tried to edge into the room.
‘That’s as close as I want you, Detective Inspector. Remember what’s at stake,’ King said.
‘Let me get her down,’ Natasha said. ‘You’ve proved what you’re capable of. You’ve shown me that I underestimated you. Nothing more is needed.’
‘No, I won’t let her down, not yet,’ he said. ‘But you can comfort her if it’ll make you feel better, if you want to show your friends how kind and compassionate you are. Be my guest.’
Natasha took one of the girl’s hands in her own. There was a flicker of life from the teenager. Callanach heard Billie sigh as their hands made contact, saw her look into Natasha’s eyes with shining gratitude.
‘You see,’ King said. ‘You are capable of it. I don’t know why you always had to be such a fucking bitch to me.’
Dr King sliced, severing long and swift, cutting deep. Billie’s face had no time to register the pain. With the tension from her throat gone, the front of her head slipped downwards to face the floor. Natasha tried to make sense of it, held her hands out to catch the blood, to push the girl’s face back towards her throat, both of them swimming in red.
‘No!’ Natasha screamed at him. ‘Oh God. Please no. Why did you do that?’ Ava ran towards Billie and Natasha. Callanach rushed for King, but too late. He was at Jayne’s bedside before Callanach could intercept.
Billie’s body emptied itself of the remainder of its life-giving fluid. Natasha was on her knees, howling with grief and fury as Ava wrapped herself around her.
Callanach watched as King whipped the blanket off Jayne’s face. His face was flushed and sweaty. He was enjoying it, had a taste for death. He wouldn’t stop.
‘No,’ Ava said. ‘You’re not going to hurt Jayne. You won’t get out of here alive if you do.’
‘Would you like to come and comfort this one as well, Natasha?’ he asked. ‘Hold her hand while I gut her?’
Natasha pressed her face into Ava’s shoulder.
‘Your valiance was remarkably short lived. What a shame. Jayne doesn’t mind dying, do you? Presumably you think Heaven awaits. But what if the afterlife is only you, me and this room, the two of us trapped together forever, as I slaughter you over and over again?’ Jayne didn’t respond.
Callanach heard a noise behind him, cast his eyes around and put one hand backwards to the doorframe.
King was stroking Jayne’s cheek with the knife. She was shaking, her eyes bulging with fear. Callanach walked forward to Ava and Natasha, pushing them behind him.
‘Are you going to have a go, Inspector?’ King asked him, grinning. ‘Only it seems to me that I can slice faster even than Interpol’s brightest and best can run. Surprised? Well, you’re not the only one who’s done your research. Left France under quite the cloud, didn’t you? Although I dare say your colleagues weren’t upset to lose you. How was it being the golden boy and having it all ripped away? Let me recall … you’ve got a good degree, you spent time modelling, magazines and newspapers back then had you linked to more than a few celebrity names. After that, a brief but impressive period with the police in Paris, transfer to Interpol. And then your great downfall. Of course, I had to read it all in French, but then I’m self-taught and fluent. We have more in common than you realise, actually. I had my future cruelly stolen from me too, didn’t I, Natasha?’
King glanced briefly in her direction. She opened her mouth to reply, but no more than a whisper and a sob came from her lips. Callanach did his best to remain impassive at the details King had been able to provide about his life. The fanatical ability to research was exactly the trademark of the killer they’d been hunting. His obsessive nature was what had made it so hard to catch him out. He must have planned the abductions for months, known everything there was to know about Jayne and Elaine.
‘Shall we try it, then, Callanach?’ King continued, waving the knife at the space between the two of them. ‘Ava didn’t want to play my game. Perhaps you’ll be a better sport.’
‘All right,’ Callanach said. ‘What’s the distance between us, do you think? You know this room better than me.’
‘I do,’ King said. ‘It’s approximately eighteen feet. Enough time for me to kill her and turn the knife on you. Fancy your chances?’ he asked.
Callanach nodded.
‘Luc, don’t!’ Ava shouted. ‘You’ll never make it. For God’s sake, stop!’
‘Any last prayers, Reverend? Only the inspector here is taking a substantial gamble with your life and you might want to be prepared for the worst.’ Jayne began furiously straining against the cuffs around her wrists and thrashing her legs.
King put the knife to her throat with studious care, adjusting the angle, adding pressure as if he were about to carve a roast.
He looked at Callanach and opened his mouth to give the go-ahead.
Callanach jerked his hand from behind his back and fired. The taser wires hit King full in the chest, sending twelve hundred volts through his body. He dropped like a rock, and the knife went with him.
Tripp’s face appeared from the stairwell. ‘Did you get him?’ Callanach nodded. ‘Medics and back up will be here in one minute.’
Callanach started walking towards King’s body when a woman he hadn’t seen before, at least not in the flesh, stood up and held one hand out to stop him.
‘No,’ she whispered. ‘Don’t come any closer. He’s got to die.’ In her hand was the hammer Ava had thrown to the floor.
‘Elaine,’ Ava said. ‘It’s over. We’re going to arrest him. King’s going to prison and he won’t be let out in his lifetime, I promise you.’
‘It’s not enough,’ she said. ‘I don’t care if he’s locked up and tortured every day for a hundred years. It can never be enough.’
She pulled out false teeth from red raw gums and threw them across the room. They landed at Callanach’s feet.
‘Elaine,’ Jayne whispered. ‘Honey, you can’t kill him. That’s not you.’
‘How can you say that after what he did to us? After what he did to the others?’ she asked, lisping and spitting saliva.
‘I want him to face trial,’ Jayne said. ‘I need justice to be done. It’s not up to us to take a life. Please, untie me and let me look after you.’
Elaine held up the hammer and looked Callanach straight in the eyes.
‘Don’t I deserve something for this?’ she asked, pointing at the sores in her mouth. ‘Isn’t it right that he pays, instead of hiding behind lawyers and psychiatric assessments? I know how this works. I’ve been on the other side of it. I remember him when I gave a talk at the University Law School, coming up at the end, fawning over me. He scared me. It was in his eyes even then. He has to pay.’
‘Elaine,’ Callanach said. ‘I cannot give you permission to hurt him. And I need to secure him while he’s still incapacitated.’
Callanach saw on her face the vivid scar of terror that would never leave her, not at work, not in her car, not even while she was sleeping. There were things from which a person could never recover. In his right hand was Max Tripp’s taser, handed to him from the stairwell. He kept it ready in case King moved. With his eyes, Callanach motioned down towards his left hand, seeing Elaine follow his line of sight. Slowly, deliberately, saying nothing, he held up his forefinger. Just one. For the first time, an emotion other than dread passed over her face. She nodded her understanding back at him.
Elaine didn’t raise the hammer too high nor hit too hard. She didn’t risk death or even brain damage. She aimed carefully and the blow was accurate. When she brought down the metal head of the tool it smashed into King’s lips, through the flesh and into the centre of both rows of teeth.
Ava went to her, put an arm around her shoulders, took the hammer from her hand and led her out. Tripp took Natasha down the stairs where medics were waiting. Callanach cut the ties from Jayne’s wrists, rolled King over and handcuffed him. There was nothing he could do for the poor lost child hanging from the beam, except stand with her and wait until she could be taken down and treated with dignity. It was over.