squirrel or a cat. Marty reached his hand inside the porch and felt for the light switch. He clicked it on. The lights on the veranda blazed and blinded him for a moment.
He looked across. A squirrel darted along the handrail and into the darkness. Marty sighed. He was shaking, though. Behind him he heard a car, and holding the broom he ran to the end of his drive. He picked out a set of headlights coming down the street. He stood and waited. As he waited he prayed. ‘If it’s Christine, I promise, I’ll call the cops. Just let me have her back. Please.’
The car approached. It slowed as it neared the drive. Marty smiled as he made out the face of his wife in the dark of the car. It was her. He felt a shudder of joy. He opened the passenger door.
‘What is it?’
‘We’re leaving. We’re leaving right now. I’ve got a lot to tell you, but we’ve got to go. Drive. I’ve got to call the cops.’
Marty dialled 911.
Chapter Seventy
East 126th Street
November 28, 11.15 p.m.
Tom Harper was cold and wet through. He had been on constant vigil on East 126th Street since the rest of the team had headed off at dusk, but no one fitting Redtop’s description had been by. It was their best chance of getting some leverage on the case, but Tom was beginning to think that this guy Redtop might have flown.
At quarter past eleven, Eddie arrived with a burger and fries. He handed the food to Harper. ‘Still here? You’re committed, we can say that at least.’
‘I’ve spent longer looking for a lifer.’
‘A what?’
‘A lifer — a bird I haven’t ever seen before.’
Eddie nodded, but he didn’t get it. ‘What’s the attraction of looking at birds, Harps? I never did get that.’
‘What’s the attraction of anything?’
‘Well, the attraction of a beautiful woman is that she makes me tingle with pleasure and if I’m lucky…’
‘Well, seeing a new bird makes me tingle just the same.’
‘That sounds like a medical condition, Harps. You told Denise you got a feather fetish?’
‘It’s not that kind of pleasure, Eddie, not that I’m expecting you to understand that.’
‘Damn right I don’t understand,’ said Eddie.
Harper ate hungrily. He chewed through the processed meat, which offered no resistance and dissolved in his mouth. His eyes continued to look up and down the street.
‘Any movement?’ said Eddie.
‘Nothing at all. I got a feeling Benny Marconi gave the game away.’
‘You want us to get a warrant and blow the place apart?’
‘Yeah, I think we should.’
‘I think so too. That’s why I brought you this.’ To Harper ’s amazement, he saw that Eddie was holding out an NYPD-issue Glock 19. Bemused, he took it.
‘How the hell-’
Eddie looked solemn. ‘Don’t ask, my friend. Just don’t let me down.’
They watched the street together in the damp air. Eddie’s cell went off. He pulled it out and listened for a full minute before he put it back in his pocket.
‘What you got?’ asked Harper.
‘We got a call. Someone telling us the name of the next victim.’
‘Who is it?’
‘Rose Stanhope.’
‘Was it the American Devil?’
‘No, an anonymous call from a psychologist. It’s a long story. Seems he was treating a guy who had pictures of Kitty on his phone the day before she died and today he showed up with pictures of Rose Stanhope.’
‘What are they doing about it?’
‘Getting the Feds involved, checking out the story. They’ll send someone over but they’ve had quite a few calls telling us who’s the next blonde to get it, so they’re sceptical. The guy wouldn’t give his name.’
‘Is she blonde?’
‘Yeah, she’s blonde, twentyish and get this — she’s the daughter of a senator.’
Harper felt the tension kick in. ‘That’s his kind of girl, Eddie. He’s been going higher and higher up the food chain since the beginning, hasn’t he?’
‘Yeah, I guess.’
‘Come on, this would be his best yet.’
‘No one kills a senator’s daughter.’
‘Exactly. Let’s check it out. If it’s nothing, we lose nothing.’
‘You’re off the case. What do you want me to do?’
‘Fuck that. Give me the senator’s address, call his home, get a patrol on to it. If Sebastian’s there, we’ve got no time at all. You and me need to go now.’
‘You’re off the case, buddy,’ said Eddie again. Harper stared at him hard and held it. ‘Okay, Harps, I’ll go with it, but if you’re wrong, they’ll haul your ass out of the city. Listen, I’ll call Blue Team on the way. I hope to God you’re wrong, Harps.’
‘Yeah, but I know what it feels like when you’re close to a killer and it feels just like this.’
Chapter Seventy-One
Senator Stanhope’s House
November 28, 11.20 p.m.
It had all gone to plan. Like clockwork, maybe even a little bit better. Downstairs, Sebastian could hear the tinkle of laughter and glass. He loved that sound. He emerged from his hiding place in the roof, took off his shoes and padded through the house. The very idea that he was there in their house excited the hell out of him. He stood at the top of the stairs. How strange for the intruder to come downstairs to greet the family.
By his side he had a simple cane and he used it carefully. With his suit on, he felt quite the man of the house. That was what he wanted. He was about to end Senator Stanhope’s ridiculous reign and take his last girl.
He arrived at the bottom of the curved staircase and could hear the senator telling his family a story. They listened to him. They laughed. It struck Sebastian as fake. He hated fakes. This whole house was fake. Senator Stanhope’s whole life was a fake. He was going to prove it to them all.
Sebastian stood outside the door of the living room. Conversation crystal-clear now. Smell of burning logs mixed with the scent of cigar smoke. Sebastian felt deeply alone. He let the strange feeling wash over him. He had never understood what he felt or why, but outside this room he knew that somehow that was what it was about. Feeling apart from it all.
An outcast.
Just beyond the door, the senator put his arm round his wife. ‘You know what you are, Caroline? You’re a saint. No one else would let me get away with it.’
Caroline arched her eyebrows. ‘I do it because I get to go to a fancy dinner and see all the handsome men in their military attire. No other reason, darling.’
‘Well, I’m glad someone is admiring those guys. They take a lot of time to look that good.’
His two daughters were both in party dresses in honour of his birthday. They sat together on the sofa and watched their parents, sipping wine. ‘You tell him, Caroline.’
