was impressively blank. Adam admired her display of courage, even as he realized what appalling danger they were in: this man wouldn’t have let his name slip unless he aimed to kill them all, tonight. Indeed, Ritter was taunting them: evidently enjoying the horror.
Ritter spat: ‘Right. All of you, sit there. In front of the radiator. Now. In a nice row like dogs at a show.’
They did as they were told. Adam squirmed, and furiously calculated the chances. A desperate rugby tackle might just unbalance the man. Ritter was big, at least six foot, but not as big as Adam. He looked fit, but not real Aussie Rules fit, like Adam. It could be done. Adam could take him, if only he could get near. One more time. He’d got that first punch in, he could do it again. Better this time.
But Ritter was blithe and clever in his long leather coat, he kept his distance, and his gun cocked, and his eyes on his captives, as he went from window to window, locking them and closing the curtains.
Ritter kicked out the landline phone sockets and stamped on them, trashing the phonelines. With the mobiles drowned, they were now entirely incommunicado.
Now he turned to them. ‘I need to keep you safe. And quiet. So we can talk.’ He tossed the handcuffs in Adam’s direction. ‘Put these on the girls. Chain them to the heater. Now.’
Adam did as he was instructed. The radiator was uncomfortably hot: he was already sweating. His moist hands slipped as he snapped the cuffs first over Nina, on one side, and then over Hannah, on the other side. Perhaps he would get a chance — one last opportunity to tackle this guy — before he himself was secured.
He got no chance. Ritter came over fast and locked Adam, likewise, to the firm ironwork of the radiator pipes. Now they were all shackled. Ritter extracted a cylindrical black silencer from an inside pocket and screwed it on to the muzzle of his pistol. ‘The Tundra Gemtech Suppressor,’ he said, almost murmuring. ‘As they say, it does not render the shooter inaudible, so much as invisible.’ A flash of a grin. ‘Reckon we’re ready.’
Traffic passed outside, oblivious to the hideous drama herein.
‘Did you kill my father?’ Nina asked.
Ritter laughed. Tall in his long leather jacket. Looking like a renegade Nazi, a Spanish Nazi with a Texan accent. ‘You still think that shit? Your dad killed himself. He was dying.’ Another laugh. ‘Or do you really think he had found something amazing?’ Ritter stopped closer to Nina. ‘Mmm? Would he do all that and then just top himself? Without even a note to say thanks for the motherfucking haggis?’
He slapped her gently across the face, twice, like a cat cuffing a ball of wool. ‘Tell me, Nina McLintock. I researched you. You’re the fucked-up little sister, right? You tried to kill yourself didn’t you? Last year? So why are you so fucking surprised that your dear old dad had the same gene?’ The gun stroked Nina’s white cheek. Then the muzzle edged to her neck, her pale sweating neck. Pointing down to the incipient curve of her white breasts under her sweat-dampened shirt.
‘I’ve got a knife. Cut you up a bit. Shall we have some fun? Think Adam likes you.’
‘Leave her alone,’ said Adam, involuntarily. ‘I’ll fucking… I’ll fucking…’
Ritter scoffed. ‘What? Pull the radiator outta the wall, Aussie hero? If you raise your voice I will chop off Nina’s ear. And feed it to the roaches under the fridge.’
He stood, looking at Nina, then at Hannah. ‘Need to put the damn heat on. In the meantime I will gag you.’
Three gags were swiftly produced. Ball gags with steel links.
‘Sex toys. From Soho. Amazing what you hoity-toity English like to use in bed.’ The chains were tight around the neck. The fat plastic balls, rammed in their mouths, stifled any words. They could only mumble, softly, desperately. Ritter chuckled. ‘Interesting, though. And relevant, no? Amazing how close sex is to violence. Orgasm to murder. Talking of which…’
Ritter disappeared to the corner of the room and adjusted something on a wall. With a shudder of apprehension Adam realized it was the thermostat. He was turning up the thermostat. They were chained to a large new radiator and he had evidently put the heat on full.
Within moments Adam felt the boiling water percolate into the metal radiator. It was burning the sweat from his shirt, burning his back, burning burning burning. The oversized plastic ball filled his mouth so he could barely swallow.
The gunman returned. ‘Now, to work. I want to know what you know. Before you die. What have you been looking for and what have you found? ’
First he unchained Nina’s gag. She spat out the plastic ball and then spat in his face, ‘Nothing!’
Ritter sleeved the spittle from his cheek.
The radiator was scorching into Adam’s back. His heartbeat was erratic. Could you burn to death from a radiator? He had to Do Something.
Ritter tried again. ‘You’ve been following your stupid fucking dead dad around Britain. Have you found what he found? You may as well tell me because I’m going to cut out your clitoris with a razor if you don’t. And even if I don’t, someone else will. You are very, very… hot properties. Hot hot hot. All three of you. You don’t know how many people want to torture you and kill you. You have no idea. I think I can smell burning.’
He took Nina’s head and pressed it back hard, with a clanging thud, pushing it against the almost red-hot radiator.
‘Is that too fucking hot? Pretty bitch? Is it too hot? Tell me what you found!’
He unchained her gag and she spoke.
‘Nothing. We found nothing. Nothing! We’ve been searching but we found nothing. A few sculptures. Green Men. Nothing else.’
There was an obvious truth in her desperate response. The leather coat creaked as Ritter sighed, dropped Nina’s head, and regagged her, shoving the vile plastic ball in her mouth, chaining it round her neck. Her defiant shouts became moans of pain.
He moved on to Hannah, repeating the process, asking her the same questions. ‘We don’t know anything. We think he may have found some truth about the Templars. The initiation rites.’ Half-crying.
‘The Babylon rite?’
‘What is that? Yes. No. Yes, that. And and and…’
‘And what else?’
‘Nothing! That’s as far as we got.’
Like a disappointed university tutor, Ritter dropped his head and sighed. And then he moved and knelt — and licked Nina’s face. Licked her from chin to eye.
‘Sweet. Very sweet.’
Next to her sister, Hannah gave a muffled scream.
Ritter licked again. ‘Mmm. Cherry Garcia.’
Ritter moved along, to Adam. He had produced a knife from somewhere. He angled it towards Adam’s groin, as he unloosed the gag with his other hand. Grotesquely nauseated, Adam spat out the plastic.
‘Tell me, you Aussie cocksucker. What were you after? You’re a journalist, aren’t you? You must have been following a story.’
Adam shook his head. ‘There is no story. I think he committed suicide. Maybe he found something about the Templars but we’ve got nowhere.’
For once Ritter’s mildly handsome, faintly unshaven face flashed a look of disappointed belief. Angry acceptance. ‘You know what, I believe you.’ He stared at Adam, then at the girls, and smiled. ‘But the night is young, and you are still alive, so I think it’s time for fun. I think I’ll leave the pretty one for pudding. A nice sugary dessert. Yes. You first, plain Jane. Gotta eat your greens.’
With the gun at Hannah’s head, he unchained her from the radiator, cuffed her hands behind her back, and lifted her to her unsteady feet.
‘Let’s leave these people to cook. Leave them on the backburner.’
He dragged her through the door to the bedroom. Adam strained to see, and watched as Hannah was pushed on to the bed. Then Adam could see very little but, grotesquely, he could hear. Struggling. Writhing. Bed slats. He stretched as far as he could against the chains and glimpsed bare legs, Hannah’s bare feet. Desperately fending him off. Ritter kept his boots on. All he could see was his boots. Ritter was on top of her.
Nina sobbed. Ritter was evidently raping her sister.
‘Quit your sobbing, bitch.’
The sound of a hard slap echoed. Then Hannah’s muffled sobs. Then there was just silence apart from the
