Walking through the doorway, I find three men hard at work with meat cleavers, knives and the odd hacksaw. Two are cutting up sides of beef while the third has half a pig on his table. A ferrous smell hangs in the air from the blood. All three guys are dressed in white overalls with stained aprons covering their fronts.

All three have faces I’ve seen around before, but I can’t say for sure if I’ve ever spoken to any of them.

I have to raise my voice over the latest irritating jingle from KMDZ. ‘Guys, have you a minute to answer a few questions?’

‘What’s it worth?’

The speaker is a slim man with a buzz cut and a Texan accent. His drawl reminds me of movies hammier than the pig he is butchering.

‘Twenty bucks apiece.’

I have no qualms about loosening tongues with a few greenbacks. In this instance our client is more than wealthy enough to cover incidentals like the odd twenty bucks.

‘Make it thirty.’

Tex shoots a furious look at the speaker, a drawn man with long hair bundled into a ponytail tucked into the back of his overalls.

‘I think Jonno meant a hundred.’ His grin shows me ten reasons why he should visit an orthodontist. ‘Each.’

‘Fifty.’

‘Ninety.’

‘Fifty.’

I’m not trying to reduce Old Man Niemeyer’s bill, that doesn’t bother me at all. I am arguing the price down because of my inherent Scottishness and a desire to assume control of the situation. Tex is the kind of man who’ll try and dominate me and steer the conversation his way unless I rein him in from the start.

‘I said ninety.’

‘And I said fifty.’ I make sure the edge in my voice is sharper than the one in his. ‘Take it or leave it. I can always find someone else to answer my questions.’

‘Hey, no need to get so het up. I was just foolin’ with ya. Fifty’s cool.’ Tex gives a forced laugh and looks first at his buddies then me to see if we are laughing too.

They have wary smiles, but I keep my face implacable.

‘Where’s Terrel Upson?’

‘He’s gone to see his folks in Seattle.’ It is the third man who answers. He scratches at his bald head as he talks. ‘Apparently his mom’s not well.’

‘When did he go?’

Again it is the third guy who speaks. ‘Wednesday morning. I dropped him at the airport before coming here.’

That means Upson had left town before Kira had been murdered. Or at least found. I make a mental note to find out if Emily has established a time of death.

‘Do you guys remember him dating Kira Niemeyer?’

‘Sure. He was one lucky son of a bitch to be nailing her. Right, guys?’ Again Tex laughs and looks towards his perceived audience.

The third man ignores Tex’s insensitive behaviour. ‘Yeah, I remember. They dated for a while earlier this year. Terrel was pretty cut up when she broke it off.’

‘Was he?’ I address the question to the third man as he seems to be the most willing to help.

‘Yeah. His face was tripping him for weeks afterwards.’ He gives an exasperated shake of his head. ‘Dumb really. There was no way it was going to last. He was just a bit of rough for a rich little daddy’s girl. Sooner or later she’d have been married off to someone her father approved of. She never even took him to meet her family.’

There in a nutshell is the reason I was so relaxed about hooking up with Kira. Our respective social statuses would always prevent a long-term relationship. Her family would expect to marry her off to the son of some millionaire or other who had the necessary breeding and the right Ivy League education.

In her own way, Kira had rebelled far beyond anyone’s expectations. What intrigued me was the way she had kept her rebellion from her family. Upson, Lester and I all fell into the unsuitable boyfriend category, yet none of us had been paraded in front of her parents. In the same vein, she’d kept her hooking a secret from everyone.

I need to discuss this with Alfonse and maybe Dr Edwards.

Bringing my attention back to the issue at hand, I look at the third man.

‘Why did she break it off?’

‘He didn’t say.’

‘Didn’t or wouldn’t?’

‘Hey man. When a dude tells you he’s been dumped you don’t ask why. You buy him a beer and tell him he’s better off without her.’

He’s right. That’s exactly what happens. Alfonse and I have done it many a time.

Sensing there is nothing else to learn, I get Upson’s cell number from the third man and reach for my wallet.

Tex eyes the notes with open greed.

‘Yeah, boys. Easiest payday we’ve ever had.’

Tex’s laugh and look combination grate on me so I decide to default on our deal. At least as far as he is concerned.

‘Here.’ I hand the third man a hundred bucks as he was the one who’d answered my questions. Ponytail got the agreed fifty. A crumpled twenty is all I give Tex.

‘You said fifty.’

I hold my fist in front of his eyes and fill my voice with menace. ‘If you speak to me like that again you’ll end up paying your dentist hundreds. Do I make myself understood?’

I walk out while he decides whether or not to make an issue of it.

The spotty-faced youth is poking at one of his zits, so I reconsider my dinner plans. Perhaps a takeout will be healthier.

Climbing back into the Mustang, I see the folder Alfonse had given me last night. In it are a number of printouts from Kira’s journal.

I’ve delayed reading them as long as possible, afraid of how stupid and helpless I’ll feel. Afraid my blood will boil hot enough to have me seeking a vengeance that doesn’t belong to me.

28

The Watcher arranges the scarf around Evie Starr’s neck and checks about one last time.

This is a perfect way and location for her to be left. The scarf covers the incision made by his scalpel. Taking care, he folds her arms and rests her chin on her chest, making her look as if she’s fallen asleep while admiring the view.

The traces of stiffness in her body aren’t strong enough to prevent him from setting her just how he wants her. He’d feared rigor mortis would thwart his attempts to seat her on the bench but her cancer-ravaged body has little muscle to solidify. Draining her blood has helped.

With her in position, he lifts the handles of the wheelbarrow he’s used to transport her from the car. He pushes it into the bushes and trees of a small archipelago jutting into the reservoir. Reaching the water’s edge, he heaves the wheelbarrow into the still water and starts to make his way back to the bush where he’s stashed his ghillie suit and observation gear.

The bush will make an ideal vantage point, which is why he’s chosen it. From underneath its thorny boughs he can watch both the bench and the parking area at the end of the bay.

All he has to do now is wait. And watch.

Soon the next stage of the pattern will begin and he’ll be able to identify his next victim.

The Watcher knows the net is closing on him. Jake Boulder turning up today has taught him that.

The homicides being the subject of an investigation is only to be expected. That Boulder and his buddy Devereaux have been hired doesn’t come as any kind of surprise – everybody in Casperton is aware just how ineffective Farrage and his team are.

Now he’s accelerated his killing, it is only a matter of time before the bigger guns of the FBI are brought in. Their presence will limit his chances to continue, but he plans to keep going until they catch him.

Once arrested he’ll be stopped, but the authorities have nothing they can threaten him with. The nurse has already sentenced him to death with her laziness.

Her ignorance has robbed the law enforcers of their greatest deterrent. By the time he is arrested and a trial date set there is every chance he’ll be dead.