He checked the contents of the bag he’d packed. He was nothing if not methodical. Latex gloves, four pairs. He’d double glove his hands to minimize the risk of them splitting. Rubber S&M mask. This was one of the simpler designs, like a ski mask made of black latex. Some of the ones he’d seen were extraordinary, looking like pilot’s oxygen masks or thirties-style military anti- gas hoods, complete with arcane, mysterious attachments. In his view, they went a step too far. You can gild the lily too much.
Then the choke chain and lead. Last of all, his iPod, the song ‘D.I.S.C.O.’ cued and ready. He hummed the chorus to himself and executed a couple of the moves he’d use later. He was a great dancer, all the practice his mother had forced upon him was coming in useful.
Six thirty, that’s when Dame Elizabeth Saunders would arrive. Seven o’clock, that’s when she would depart.