‘Look at him, Dr Levene.’ The knife tensed in Sebastian’s fist.
‘You’re no one!’ Denise shouted. She drew a breath and spat hard into Sebastian’s face. His eyes shut and his face turned away automatically, covered in her saliva. His arm rose to wipe his eyes. So that’s what she was thinking. A distraction. It was enough.
Harper had less than a second to react. He twisted away from the knife, let himself drop away from Sebastian and spread himself flat against the ground. In one fast movement, he looped one foot round Sebastian’s heel and rammed his other foot hard into the knee, trying to bust it right open. The killer ’s body kiltered backwards and fell to the floor.
Harper had no idea what he was doing in the semi-darkness, but hearing Sebastian’s body hit the floor had given him the impetus he needed. He pounced across the floor and climbed on top of him and raised his fists. His knuckles felt no pain as they ripped into flesh and bone with pent-up ferocity.
Sebastian felt the blows rain down on his face. He was just letting the pain reach him. Pain was a curious phenomenon. People tended to overreact to it. He smiled. His jaw broke and hung loose. His teeth cracked in his mouth. Then he lifted his shoulder and out of nowhere plunged a short-bladed knife into Harper ’s arm. The punching ceased. Harper stifled a cry. Sebastian threw him aside and laughed through his bloody teeth.
‘Detective Harper!’ said the voice of the killer. ‘Angry, aren’t you, Tom? Were you angry when you killed my little Mo? You fucking asshole.’
Harper stared around the room looking for his options. ‘Why don’t you run?’ he said. ‘The cops’ll be crawling round here any minute.’
‘Oh, I don’t think they’ll get me.’
‘They’ll kill you. They want you dead. You understand?’
Sebastian moved to Denise. ‘She wants to taste your blood, but if she has to die, so be it.’
Her hands were tied behind her back and she trembled on the old stool. Her head was pulled at an angle, the rope biting into the soft skin of her neck. The stool moved from side to side as she shifted her weight.
Denise was badly damaged, but her spirit had not been broken. She was still ready to fight.
The monster smiled. Harper looked at him, struck by Sebastian’s normality. He looked like everyone and no one.
Sebastian’s foot was on the stool. He kept pushing it and letting it fall back.
‘Tom, my old friend.’
‘I don’t know you.’
‘But I know you, Tom. I know you all too well.’
‘No, you don’t. You don’t know anyone.’
‘You took my brother away.’
‘Mo?’
‘Love of my life, Tom.’
‘I didn’t take anyone. You killed him.’ Harper kept his eyes fixed on Denise. They didn’t know the way out of this one.
‘You took him and left me with nothing.’
‘You killed him, Sebastian.’
‘You were investigating his case, Harper. Chasing the poor guy. You knew he was simple. He was the victim, Harper, and you killed him — frightened him to death and let him die. He never killed a soul. That was all me.’
‘Leave Denise. Let her go. If it’s between us, then let her go …’
‘Very well,’ he said.
The killer kicked the stool away. Denise’s body dropped a foot and the noose gripped her neck with a sudden jolt.
Chapter One Hundred and Seventeen
The Lair
December 4, 1.40 p.m.
The light from the candle was filtered through the motes of dust that had risen up from the floor. Harper felt the jolt physically in his own neck and leaped up to grab hold of Denise. His body ached from the beating and the wound in his arm but he managed to lift her to take the weight from her neck.
She choked and spluttered. But she was still in the game. He pulled the gag from her mouth.
‘How tight is it?’
‘Tight,’ she replied with a low groan.
She wasn’t dying, but Harper was holding her with both arms. If Harper dropped her, she would swing again and the noose would tighten around her arteries and starve her brain of oxygen. In a few seconds she’d lose consciousness.
Harper was helpless and so was she. Like stuck pigs.
Sebastian turned. ‘Do you want to save her, Tom? Do you even know how you feel? I bet you think of what you’d like to do to her, hey?
‘I want you to suffer, Harper.’ The killer was circling his prey. Harper was feeling the weight of Denise’s body. His clavicle felt like it was broken and he was bleeding badly from his wound. Denise was listening. She had to try something. Something different.
‘Your blood is making a mess of the floor, Harper. How long can you hold her up and keep her alive, Tom? How strong are you? Big fucking hero!’
Harper didn’t know how he was going to get out of this. Denise would die if he let her go and he couldn’t catch the killer unless he did so.
Sebastian stood behind him. ‘How much pain can you take for her?’
His knife drew across the back of Harper’s knee, deep into the flesh. Harper cried out and felt his leg buckle. But he held it.
‘Let us go or you’ll die here,’ he gasped.
‘Or you will,’ Sebastian countered.
The knife sliced through Harper’s right arm. The cut went deep to the bone and Harper grimaced and let the pain be part of someone else. He held tighter to Denise.
‘Tom,’ she said. ‘Let me go or we both die.’
‘No,’ Harper said. ‘No one dies here.’
‘If you take him on, you’ll win. If you don’t — he’ll kill you and I’ll die anyway.’
‘Touching sentiment,’ said Sebastian.
Harper was working something out. He could drop her but not for long. If he got into a struggle with the killer, she would die. He had to drop her and incapacitate Sebastian within a few seconds. How?
‘Perhaps you will respond to her pain,’ the killer said with menace.
His knife drew across her thigh. She screamed as her flesh opened. Harper was staring into the killer’s eyes. Emotion pulled at him and wanted him, but he had to control it. He remained still.
Sebastian’s hands ran between her legs. ‘She likes it, Tom.’ Sebastian was enjoying himself now, watching his grotesque statue to love bleed and die. He wanted more sensation, though. Harper could see that. Sebastian always wanted more.
The killer held the blade up against Denise’s breast. He scored a line and watched the blood begin to run down her white skin. He was almost transfixed.
‘You raped and murdered your own sister!’ shouted Harper suddenly.
The killer stopped. ‘I didn’t touch her. I never touched her.’
Go cold, Tom said to himself. His heartbeat dropped, his eyes narrowed. He had one shot.
‘You killed Bethany. You raped her and killed her,’ he said desperately. ‘You held her down and killed her. Didn’t you? That’s what this is all about.’
The killer’s eyes widened. ‘You ask Ned Hummel what happened to her.’
It was enough of a distraction. Go cold, Tom. Now.
