past them. 'I think the odds are very high.' He went over to the bed, on which the naked body of a middle-aged man was sprawled. Oaten and Turner moved into the thickly carpeted bedroom. On the wall above the king-size bed, there was a pentagram. The circle enclosing the five-pointed star was about a meter across. The red liquid that had been used had dripped in places, but the words within the lines were legible. ''FECIT DIABOLUS,'' Turner read. 'The Devil's done it yet again.' Oaten took in the scene and moved forward. When they got to the bed, the Welshman's hand went to his mouth. This time even Oaten had to blink hard. The victim's abdomen looked like a grenade had gone off over it. Shortly afterward the female CSI advised them about the music that had been playing. One of the uniformed policemen had identified it as 'Devil Woman' by Cliff Richard. 'No wonder the neighbors called us,' Colin Younger quipped. Oaten looked at him thoughtfully. 'The reference to 'woman' is interesting, isn't it?' 'Oh, you mean Sara Robbins.' 'Maybe.' Karen Oaten saw Dr. Redrose wave. 'Look what I've found,' he said, brandishing a bloodstained object in a pair of forceps. 'It's paper,' Turner said. 'Where was it?'
'Under the body,' the pathologist replied. 'In case anybody's interested, the cause of death was a stab wound to the throat, which was then cut from ear to ear. The abdomen has been slashed open numerous times. There was no shortage of blood for the killer to use as ink.'
'Can you read it?' Karen Oaten asked, straining to make out the words that had been laser-printed on the paper.
Colin Younger nodded. 'It says 'Ask Matt Wells about this.''
There was a sudden silence in the dead writer's bedroom.
I tried not to, but eventually I'd dropped off in the armchair. I hadn't turned any lights on in the house and I'd reactivated the alarm system, so I had to keep still. Obviously I managed that, although my sleep had been anything but peaceful. Dave's body flashed before me, and then I was chasing a woman who I thought was Sara, but showed herself to be a hideous devil when she turned on me, snarling.
I woke up when the key was turned in the lock and the alarm started to beep. I listened to the footsteps on the polished wood hall floor. Fortunately, only one person had come in. I stood up slowly and took the silenced Glock from my pocket. I heard a bag being dropped on the floor and then a long sigh. I padded to the door, and then showed myself.
'Matt!' Karen said, her hand flying to her chest. 'Jesus, you almost gave me a heart attack.' She was sitting at the bottom of the stairs, one boot removed.
I checked that she'd put the chain on the front door.
'What the hell are you doing here?' she demanded. 'And why are you holding a gun?'
'Are you going to behave?' I asked, trying for a winning smile but giving up. 'I'm serious, Karen. I need to talk to you. After that, I'm going to walk out of here and you aren't going to follow me.'
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
