Tom felt his nerves prick up and slowly opened the car door. ‘Kasper, this is Harper. I’m going to get in tight and see if I can follow him,’ he said on his radio.

Camera Three zoomed in, but the blonde and now the man in black had gone out of range. It was difficult to tell anything about the latter’s intentions. He was doing nothing but walking up the street. He walked out of shot and out of the range of the final camera just as Tom stepped on to the sidewalk and crossed the street.

Kasper thought for a moment. ‘Team Four, the blonde in Prada was talking to a male shop assistant. Can you give me a brief description?’

Detective Elaine Fittas came back over the airwaves. ‘Yeah, boss. We’ve got a guy, mid-thirties, greying hair, black suit.’

Kasper stood up. ‘Team Four, one more thing. Is he or isn’t he on the staff of Prada?’ He waited as Elaine went to check.

Her voice crackled back. ‘Negative, boss. They’ve never seen him before.’

That was all Kasper needed. He had to make a quick decision. ‘I think it’s him. Put the teams on standby, we’ve got to follow on foot. Team Four - get going. Has anyone got a visual?’

Team Four couldn’t get near the suspect. The crowds were so thick that they couldn’t progress. Harper was closest, only a few yards behind, watching the man in black as he closed in on the gorgeous blonde. What was he planning? A public execution? Or was he in the stalking phase? This guy was capable of anything. Was the American Devil on a busy Manhattan street about to do serious damage? Harper started to run.

Chapter Forty-Six

Upper East Side

November 23, 3.58 p.m.

The killer could see Kitty on the street, walking in her perfect bright red coat and dress. He wanted to taste her blood so much he could feel the sweet metallic flavour already rolling around his mouth. He wondered when he became a killer. Was it the first time he held someone’s throat and watched them pass from life to death? Or was it long before that? Was it some time way back in the past?

Perhaps it was just an art, like poetry, but with human blood and human remains to be savoured. Or perhaps he became a killer at high school. He had strange thoughts sitting in those classrooms.

He knew every action had consequences. These things went deep. But did they make him kill? He didn’t know. And he so wanted to know, to solve the problem of himself. Like everyone did. He was just a regular guy trying to solve his particular set of problems. The devil had come to rescue him. Slipped into his skin. He was a devil now - a real-life, walking, talking son of Satan.

He had been reflective all morning, as he showered, as he shaved, as he pissed. He knew why, too. He’d wanted Kitty the night before. He’d been ready. He’d been really ready. And he had to go away empty-handed. Not today. Not at all. The heat was still on. Deep within him, he felt the surge of lust that he knew would swamp him and drag him down to hell.

He strode towards Kitty as she walked up the street. The air was peculiarly stark and bright. It felt incredibly vivid to him. It always did when he was out hunting. He stopped to look at the bursting colours of the sky. It was absolutely magical. He knew that the devil was here. It was only when the devil woke that the world changed so quickly and everything looked like a Technicolor extravaganza. Such a strange night, it was, when the devil killed for the first time.

The killer was now a few yards behind Kitty, who’d crossed Park Avenue and was heading towards Lexington on East 68th Street. He stared at her back as he approached. Then, out of some deep animal awareness, she felt his eyes and turned to look.

‘Hello, Kitty. I’ve been watching you.’

Tom Harper was about ten feet behind the man in the black suit. He lost him for a second in the crowd and then, seemingly from the other side of the sidewalk, saw him swoop towards the blonde. ‘How the fuck did he get so close?’ Harper started to push through the crowd. He saw the man get right up to the blonde and then he saw her turn and shudder.

Kitty swung round and stared into the eyes of the tall figure who towered above her. She couldn’t catch her breath as she felt his hand grab her thigh and squeeze. He was smiling as he did so. Christ! What was he going to do to her?

His hand was grabbing her crotch and pulling at her as he watched her face. Her heart beat hard in her chest and her hands gripped her shopping bags with such force that her knuckles turned white. Her scream was automatic. She felt his fingers dig into her and just freaked. When her eyes opened again, he was gone. He’d moved into the crowd. Where was he? What did he want? Kitty looked round. Then she saw him coming back from the opposite direction. The same black suit surging towards her through the crowds, his head bowed low and purposeful. She saw the Hunter College subway and moved quickly towards it.

Harper knew something was wrong. He yelled, ‘Police! Move, move!’ He was shouldering through the crowds but he was advancing slowly. Then he heard her shriek. The high-pitched squeal rose above the low hum of the crowd. ‘Police!’ shouted Harper again, pushing the shoppers aside. ‘Get out of my way.’ He looked ahead. The blonde had disappeared from view. Maybe the killer had taken her out in the crowd. He was capable of it. Of anything.

Harper had lost both the blonde and the man in black. It was no good. He climbed on top of a trash can and scanned around.

He spotted the blonde heading into the subway, her bright red coat easily visible in the crowd now he had the height. About two hundred yards down the street, the rest of the surveillance operation were heading towards him, but there wasn’t time to wait. Then he caught sight of a man dressed in black at the subway entrance. He was following the blonde.

Kitty’s heart was pounding so much she could hear it loud in her ears. Her heels clipped quickly across the crowded subway station towards the gates. She didn’t have a card or a ticket and looked around, but there was no time, the man was there again. Or was it another man in black? She was confused, but he was heading right for her. She kicked off her Mary Janes and left all nine hundred dollars’ worth of designer shoes behind her as she bundled through the barriers on someone else’s metro card and ran to the escalators.

She took out her cell phone, but as she was dialling 911 she reached the escalator and reception died on her. She looked back. He was still there - putting his card in the gate and staring at her intently. She was terrified. He was a predator. Now she understood. She was being hunted.

The man in the black suit didn’t hurry. There was nowhere for her to run. He made a move towards her, increasing his step. The great thing about the blonde hair was that he could spot it from a distance.

Tom Harper appeared at the subway entrance just as the blonde and the man in black were getting off the escalator down below.

Harper ran and vaulted the gates, then stopped and looked at the crowds. He wouldn’t make it in time. Down the side of the escalator was a wide aluminium slide. Harper jumped and slid the length of the drop, keeping himself from falling by using the shoulders of the shoppers as he passed.

At the bottom of the escalator Harper shoved the crowds out of the way and darted down into the subway. He started to sprint towards the platforms, craning his neck to look ahead. The blonde disappeared down one of the tunnels: behind her and closing in was the killer. If Harper allowed the killer to get on a train, he might lose him for good. He followed their route and came out into another large, central tunnel. He kept his eye on the tunnels leading left and right from the main thoroughfare. Which way?