‘Laundry,’ said Mo.

‘Do you know her?’ said Harper.

‘Pretty,’ said Mo, handing the photograph back.

Kasper went in close and put an arm round the big guy. ‘Did she come and buy anything?’

‘Sure, yeah, that’s right. She came in one night. Don’t know what day it was. Nearly two a.m. We’re a 7-Eleven, but we never shut.’

‘You got a good memory there.’

‘Sure. She bought a box of Viceroy Kings.’

‘Anything else?’

‘A box of Viceroy Kings. She gave me a five-dollar bill.’

‘What was she wearing?’ asked Harper.

‘Pink dress. White shoes.’

‘She say anything to you, big guy? Mention anyone following her?’

Mo shook his head.

‘She just left?’

Mo nodded.

‘Think some more, Mo. Did she have anyone with her?’

Mo shook his head. Benny appeared by his side. ‘Are you this slow on the uptake all the fucking time, gentlemen? She bought cigarettes and left. What more do you want? Now let this guy earn his living.’

‘Just one more thing,’ said Harper. ‘Is that your van outside blocking half the sidewalk, the one with MARCONI all along the side?’

‘Hey, you going to ticket me? The fucking axle broke.’

‘Get it off the sidewalk or I’ll have it towed.’

‘Tow the thing, you’ll be doing me a favour.’

It was all they were going to get. So they knew she got the cigarettes, left the store alive and headed home. And then, in the five-minute walk, something happened to her and she ended up four days later in a dumpster.

Eddie looked across at Harper. ‘What next, boss? You think we should take the big guy in for questioning? Not that we’d get much, by the looks of him.’

‘You should, but it’s not my call any more. You back on duty tomorrow?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Keep me posted, will you? Anything come up, I’d like to know.’

‘What about you?’

‘Missing persons have a database and she might have been logged. I want to check it out. I’ll catch up tomorrow. And Eddie.’

‘Yeah, man?’

‘Thanks.’

Chapter Sixty

Marty Fox’s Suite

November 28, 11.30 a.m.

There were about 70 million hits for the word ‘Viagra’. Marty Fox raised an eyebrow. Thank shit, I’m not alone, he thought. It was terrible news that his stresses since the last meeting with Nick had hit the bedroom. But there were different approaches to problems in life: one was to face them head-on and talk to someone, the other was to try to hide from them and hope a quick fix with some strong drugs would help.

Marty was going for the quick fix. What am I going to do if I lose my one talent? He put in an order and hoped that this would solve his problem. God, he was sorry about his wife. He’d insulted her in a way he hated himself for. Never again, he declared, typing in his credit card details.

He had also done what he could to get rid of his disturbing client. He’d asked his PA to cancel the next session with Nick and, in fact, cancel all sessions. He told her if she re-booked him this time he’d fire her. That would do it, he thought. Refuse to see Nick, bury his head in the sand and buy Viagra for the droop. Welcome back to normality.

He smiled. He was beginning to feel himself again. He picked up a carton of cigarettes and lit one, leaning back in his leather chair. So what if he was breaking the law. It felt good. He inhaled deeply and felt the tingle of nicotine ripple through his veins. Sweet heaven!

At that moment, the door opened and Nick entered the room.

‘What the hell do you want?’

His PA ran in after him. ‘Sorry, Dr Fox, he just pushed past.’

‘I need help, Doctor. It’s urgent.’

Marty leaned forward. His problem had just come back. He waved his PA out of the office. ‘It’s okay. I’ll handle this.’

‘I need to see you, Doctor. You saw the news in the paper. Do you know what that means? You saw the photograph of the girl. Kitty Hunyardi. You must’ve thought what I thought. I’ve been terrified. Do you think I had anything to do with it?’

‘Nick, Nick,’ said Marty, taking control. ‘I reflected on our last session. Therapy needs trust and confidence and objectivity. I don’t think I can provide you with those elements. I have a list of other therapists you might want to see. I’m not a specialist in this area. They will be able to help you. Unfortunately, I can’t. I’m sorry.’

Nick was wearing a cheap suit with a faint pinstripe. He looked like he’d slept in his car or something. ‘I have to know. I have some more information for you.’

‘Information?’ said Marty. ‘What kind of information?’

‘Can I sit down?’

‘No! I told you . . . Nick, you’ve gotta listen ...’

Nick sat. ‘I can’t tell anyone else. What I’m about to tell you, Marty, will shock you. I’ve thought about telling you before but I’ve been afraid. But we have a connection. I feel that I can tell you. I can trust you.’

‘Whatever it is, Nick, I don’t want to know. I’m not going to listen.’ Marty got up and walked to his desk. ‘This session is over. You need to leave.’

There was a silence. Marty was hoping that the lunatic would lose interest, but Nick just sat there. If he doesn’t move, thought Marty, I’ll just get up and go myself.

‘Okay, Marty, have it your way.’

‘Yeah, I will.’

Nick stood and approached Marty’s desk. He took out a photograph and laid it on the desk before Marty. It was a picture of a beautiful girl.

Marty didn’t recognize the picture. He looked at Nick. ‘What?’

‘Just after I heard about Kitty, I went home. I downloaded pictures from my camera to see some shots of my kids and I found several pictures of this girl. I’ve never seen her before.’

‘Who is she?’

‘Her name’s Rose Stanhope. That’s all I know.’

‘How do you know her name, Nick?’

‘There’s a picture of her at a conference of some kind. Her name’s on a label on her lapel. Rose Stanhope.’

‘Oh, my God,’ said Marty. ‘You think she’s next?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t know anything.’

‘Then who took the pictures?’

‘This is who Sebastian wants,’ said Nick, almost in a whisper. ‘This is his next girl. I think he scopes them and then attacks. Sebastian always sees the worst in people. He killed Kitty, what’s he going to do next? I don’t know what to think.’

Marty felt the warmth drain from his skin. ‘Hey, Nick, this has to stop. This is a fantasy you’ve got. Kitty was a coincidence. These are just photographs. You’re not a killer, you’re just disturbed. You live in a fantasy. You’re projecting your feelings into these strange murders. You’re from West Virginia, right?’

‘Yeah,’ said Nick.

‘And you were around, right, when this terrible thing happened to Chloe. Am I right?’

‘Yeah, of course.’

‘But you didn’t know Chloe yourself, did you?’

Nick thought for a moment. ‘I wasn’t lucky enough to know Chloe, not me, no. She was at my high school. In the year above.’

‘That’s right. It wasn’t you. It was someone else, wasn’t it? But for some reason, you felt guilty for it because you had a crush on her.’

‘That’s right, Doc, I did feel guilty. But it doesn’t matter. It was Sebastian who killed her.’

‘Why?’

‘Chloe was my angel. He doesn’t like me having angels. He likes to destroy them.’

‘What or who is Sebastian?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘It’s just a fantasy, Nick. You’re projecting all your fears on to this killer.’

‘I just know I’ve stood by while Sebastian has done these things. I can’t any more.’

‘No, you didn’t, Nick. You’ve just got yourself caught up in some fantasy. You need proper help. We need to get you to see Dr Bartholomew. This is a fantasy. He can help.’

‘No, it’s you I need. I’m trying to get help here. Sebastian ...’

‘What?’