The Soul Collector

She stood up and glared at me. “Who do you think you are? You disappear, leaving all sorts of questions unanswered, and then you come back and order me about. Screw you!”

I glanced at my watch. It was four-thirty in the morning and we were in danger of waking the neighbors. “Calm down, will you? I’ll answer any question you ask.”

That seemed to mollify her slightly, though she stepped out of the way when I tried to embrace her. She went to the kitchen and filled the kettle.

“You know that Josh Hinkley’s been murdered?” she said over her shoulder.

I had decided I was going to come clean. “Yes.”

Karen told me the details, watching me cringe. “There was a message under the body, saying ‘Ask Matt Wells about this,’ like there was with Sandra Devonish.” She caught my eye. “I’m asking.”

I sat down at the minuscule kitchen table and started to talk. A mug of coffee was thumped down in front of me and Karen sat opposite. Our knees touched. She tried to move back, but there wasn’t room.

After I’d gone through the clues I’d tried to answer and the sender’s responses, she slumped in her chair.

“Why didn’t you tell me about all that earlier?” she asked, her tone acid.

I shrugged. “Because I was specifically told not to involve the police-other people could have been murdered.”

“What, more than Sara Robbins has killed so far?” She looked at me in disbelief. “And you’ve had a hot line to her. Anybody else would have run screaming to us, but Matt Wells? No, he’s smarter than the Met’s finest, he can handle serial killers on his own.” She laughed bitterly. “I’ll be sure to mention that to Sandra Devonish’s family when they arrive to collect her body.”

I was finding it hard to look at her. “I did what I could,” I said in a low voice. I caught her eye. “Look, there’s something else you don’t know.” I told her about what Pete and Andy had found in Sara’s house in Oxford.

She looked at me with slightly less ferocity. “And the note says ‘Sorry’? What about?”

I shrugged. “I wonder if there’s someone else involved. There have been those gangland killings, too. Do you know who’s behind them?”

Karen shook her head. “Could be a straightforward war between the Turks and the Kurds.”

I didn’t think she was convinced by what she’d said, but I let it go. “We don’t actually know that Sara’s responsible for the crime-writer murders. The messages I got were signed Doctor Faustus and, at the start, Flaminio.” She looked blank. “The revenger in Webster’s play The White Devil.”

“You don’t seriously believe that someone else sent them?” Karen asked, her eyes wide.

“I’m not sure. There are some anomalies. For a start, Doctor Faustus and Flaminio are male characters.”

“Big deal. Maybe she thinks she’s her brother reincarnated.”

That wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility. “Then there’s the fact that the last message header was thethirdisaman.”

She squinted at me. “So?”

“Think about it. The first victim was Mary Malone, the second Sandra Devonish-”

“And the third, despite your cleverness, was indeed a man, Josh Hinkley. I still don’t see what you’re getting at.”

“Well, the overwhelming likelihood is that Sara murdered Dave.”

She nodded slowly. “Making Hinkley her fourth victim. Yes, but maybe she sees Dave’s killing as separate.”

“So she has two death lists?”

Karen frowned. “The second one consisting of?”

“Me, my family and my friends. Probably including you.” The last sentence slipped out before I could stop myself.

“In fact,” she said, with a tight smile, “your name will be on both lists.”

“On the other hand,” I continued, eager to move on, “maybe Sara’s only interested in me and my people.”

“But if it isn’t her, who is it going after the crime writers? The officers who found Josh Hinkley’s body said they smelled perfume in the air. Could it be another woman?”

I looked at her. I should have asked more about Josh. Whatever he’d said about me, he didn’t deserve to die the way he had. “Maybe the Satanism angle isn’t so weird after all. Maybe some devil-worshipping female psycho has it in for crime writers.”

“I don’t suppose you could suggest a name,” she said drily.

“You’ve got me there. But I’m working on it.”

“Spit it out, Matt. What are you planning?”

I shook my head. “Need-to-know basis only, Karen. Remember how tight a rein her brother kept on me. She could nail me at any moment. That’s why I’m armed. You might want to think about getting armed protection yourself.”

“Why don’t we apply for it together?” she said bitterly. “You’re not going anywhere after what you’ve put me through these past days. I thought you loved me, Jesus, I thought I loved you. But at the first sign of danger, you run away and leave me in a shit storm.”

I couldn’t blame her for feeling that way, even though I hadn’t felt able to act any differently. “I do love you, Karen,” I said, trying to get her to look at me. “Part of the reason I went underground was that I didn’t want you close if Sara got to me.”

She glanced at me, then turned her head away. “You have no idea how much crap’s been dumped over me because of our relationship. For Christ’s sake, there are people in the Met who think you murdered the crime writers.”

“Because of the notes fingering me? They smack of the White Devil-remember how he tried to frame me. That could mean Sara is behind the crime-writer murders, even if she isn’t actually carrying them out herself.”

She sat up. “You’re the one who slept with her for a year, Matt. You must have some idea how her mind works. How are we going to catch her?”

I told her about Rog’s campaign against Sara’s wealth, and about the other properties my ex-lover had bought.

“We’ll check them, but how likely is it she’ll be there?”

“Someone was living in the Hackney flat and someone left that body in the Oxford house.”

“It isn’t very likely they’ll go back to those places. Though, if you’d bothered to contact me earlier, we could have run surveillance operations. Tosser.”

I deserved that for not keeping in touch. I could have texted her, but that would have done her no good if anyone in the Met had found out we were communicating.

I stood up.

“Where are you going?” she said, getting up and trying to block the door.

“Don’t, Karen. You have to let me go. There are things you can’t do. Ultimately, I’m the one Sara wants. You asked how we can catch her. I’m the answer to that. When she runs out of money, she’ll come after me pronto. All I have to do is let her know where I’ll be.”

“Are you out of your mind?” she said, pounding her hands on my chest. “Can’t you understand? I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

I put my arms around her. She resisted at first, but eventually she acquiesced. “I didn’t say anything about letting Sara hurt me,” I said. “What do you think I am? Some kind of hero?”

She laughed softly. “No. Some kind of man.” She pulled away and looked at me. “A brave but headstrong one. If you get yourself killed, I’ll…” She let out a frustrated moan. “I’ll move into your flat and throw all your CDs into the river.”

“That’s it then,” I said, kissing her on the lips. “It’s been nice knowing you.” I turned away and headed for the front door.

She caught up with me as I was unfastening the chain. She held me close and kissed me. “Don’t do anything that makes me cut you loose,” she said softly. It was still a definite order.

I nodded, but didn’t make a verbal commitment. Nailing Sara and the people she probably had working for her