The Last Temptation (28 page)

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Authors: Val McDermid

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General

BOOK: The Last Temptation
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Til need somewhere to stay,’ he had told Petra. ‘It’d be helpful if you can book me into the same place as Carol. I know she’s probably being followed, so it’s important that there’s somewhere we can meet where we’re not going to be spotted. If we’re in the same building, it should be easier for us both.’

As they left the airport behind, Petra said, ‘I managed to get you an apartment in Carol’s building. You’re a couple of floors below her, but it’s easy to come and go without anyone seeing you.’

‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘I understand you two are meeting in a women’s health club to do your debriefs?’”

‘That’s right. I’m afraid you won’t be able to join us there,’ Petra said with a grin.

‘No, but I can see Carol in the apartment block, and I can presumably meet you at your office? I’m going to need access to all the case materials that you can get for me, so that would probably be the best place.’

Petra pulled a face. ‘That might be a bit of a problem, Tony. You see, officially I’m not supposed to have anything to do with the serial killer cases yet. So if you show up at the office, my boss is going to ask some very difficult questions. How would you feel about working in my apartment? It’s ,j quite civilized, really. All the materials I have are there anyway.’

‘That’s fine by me, as long as you don’t mind having me f’

 

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under your feet. I tend to work quite long hours. And I’m eager to get moving on this profile right away.’

‘I have the case information from Heidelberg and Leiden. And I’ve sent Bremen a request for their investigation reports, so we should have some material from them soon. I told them I believed their case might connect to one of our ongoing investigations. I think they were quite relieved at the idea of sharing the load. They’re a small force, they don’t have much experience with anything out of the ordinary.’

‘Good. I need as much information as I can get.’

‘I’m glad we tempted you out of retirement.’

He gave her a quick sideways glance. If she was sufficiently driven by her ambition to be operating outside the rules, he didn’t think she would mind that he too was bringing his own agenda to this case. ‘It was more than that. I knew Margarethe .Schilling.’

‘Shit,’ Petra said. ‘I’m sorry. Carol didn’t tell me.’

‘Carol doesn’t know. Did you get the chance to tell her I’m on my way?’ he added, wanting to move away from the painful subject of Margarethe’s death.

‘I hope you don’t mind, but I didn’t tell her yet. She has her first encounter with Radecki this evening, and it’s important she stays focused on that.’

‘You’re right. Hopefully we can link up tomorrow morning.’

‘She’ll be pleased to see you. She speaks very highly of you.’

Til be pleased to see her, too.’

‘It’s good for her that she has someone around to anchor her into her real life,’ Petra said, swerving to avoid someone trying to cut in front of her. ‘Asshole,’ she muttered.

As long as I don’t pull her out of character too much,’ he said.

‘I’m more concerned with her getting stuck in Caroline Jackson. Radecki’s a charming bastard. That’s hard to resist

 

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when you’re feeling isolated. I think having you around will help her with that.’

‘I hope so. And her insights will be valuable to me when it comes to drawing up my profile too. She’s got a very unusual mind. She comes at things from odd tangents, sees things I don’t always see.’

‘When will you start work?’

‘As soon as possible. If it’s all right with you, I’ll drop my bags off and maybe you can take me back to your place?’

‘OK. I’ll give you a key so you can come and go as you please. Don’t worry about disturbing me. I’m hardly ever there and I sleep like the dead.’ Petra turned off the Ku’damm into the quiet side street with the apartment complex. ‘Here we are. Let me give you a hand.’

He followed Petra into the small concierge office next to the main entrance. She dealt with his registration, then led him through to the entrance hall. ‘You’re on the first floor. Carol is two floors above you, in 302. I’ll wait here for you while you drop your things off.’

Tony nodded and pressed the call button for the lift. He’d burned his bridges this time. For too long, he’d been telling himself he could be a chameleon, taking on the colouring of his surroundings, fitting in with other lives because in truth he had no fixed points in his own life. But it was slowly dawning on him that he’d been lying to himself. There was a core that was uniquely Tony Hill. And the harder he tried to escape its clutches, the stronger its grip became. Forget blandness, forget conventionality. This was who he was: the hunter, sniffing the air for the delicate scent of his prey. He was back where he belonged, and it felt wonderful.

 

Carol was alive to the ironies of the opera she was watching from the back of the stalls at the Berlin Staatsoper. Janacek’s

 

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Das Schlaue Fuchslein, The Cunning Little Vixen. The drama that might have distracted her if a different opera had been before her served only to hammer home the dangers of her mission. The first act unfolded before her; the gamekeeper’s capture of the little vixen; her defence against the dog’s sexual advances and the tormenting of the children; her tempting of the hens into her ambit; her slaughter of the hens and her escape before retribution could be visited on her.

I’m the cunning little vixen, Carol thought. She would allow Tadeusz Radecki to think he’d brought her into his camp at his command. She would resist any attempts to bait her into revealing her true nature; she suspected she would have to find a way to keep Radecki at arm’s length. Then she would sneak into his henhouse, bring his chickens home to roost and get out from under before he could make her pay the price.

As the finale of the act approached, bringing its confrontation between the vixen and her human captors, Carol slipped I k °ut of her aisle seat and made her way out of the auditorium.

Her heart was racing, her stomach a knot of pain. In spite of the lightweight material of the midnight blue silk sheath she was wearing, she could feel sweat gathering hi the hollow of her back. Adrenaline coursed through her. Behind her, applause broke out. It was now or never, she told herself as she headed for the stairs that would take her up to the private boxes. Left-hand side, just as Petra had told her.

Petra had done her homework. According to her, Radecki had recently begun to visit the opera again. He was always alone hi his box, remaining confined during the intervals, avoiding mixing with any of his friends or contacts in the audience. He never went to the bars, instead preferring to sip champagne delivered ahead of the performance by one of the opera house staff. ‘It’s a dramatic place to stage your first

 

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encounter,’ Petra had said. ‘He always went to the opera with Katerina, so he will already be focused on her memory.’ Tony had agreed that, psychologically, it would be a powerful moment that Carol could exploit. Taken so completely off his guard, Radecki would be more vulnerable to her appearance than in any business context.

Carol climbed the stairs, her steps soft on the heavy carpet. The doors from the auditorium were opening and the audience was spilling out, the air thick with chatter and laughter. She pushed her way up against the tide and carried on into a side corridor. Second on the right, Petra had told her. Carol stared at the door, saying a silent prayer to whatever guardian angel might be listening. She tucked her evening bag under her arm and tapped on the door.

There was no reply. She knocked again, this time harder. A pause, then suddenly the door was yanked open. Tadeusz Radecki stood framed in the doorway, his lean frame a good six inches taller than her. The photograph didn’t do him justice, Carol thought irrelevantly. Even disfigured by a scowl, in the flesh his dramatic good looks were far more striking. His beautifully cut dinner jacket emphasized broad shoulders, narrow hips and long legs, ‘Was ist?’ he demanded, the words spilling out before his eyes had taken her in fully.

Before she could say anything, his brain caught up with his eyes. Carol had never seen anyone physically recoil before, but there was no other word to describe his actions. Tadeusz reared up to his full height, simultaneously taking a step backwards. His eyes widened and his mouth spread in a thin line as he sucked his breath in.

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to alarm you,’ she said in English, assembling puzzlement on her face.

A turbulent series of emotions crossed his face. She could imagine his thought processes. Was he seeing a ghost? No,

 

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ghosts didn’t speak. Was she a hallucination? No, a hallucination wouldn’t talk to him in English. But if she wasn’t a ghost or a hallucination, who was she, standing here in the doorway of the opera box he’d shared with Katerina?

Carol took advantage of his confusion to step across the threshold. He took another step backwards, banging into one of the chairs, without even glancing to see what he’d hit His eyes were fixed on her face, his gaze perplexed, frown lines etched deep between his brows. ‘Who are you?’ he said, his voice a small croak compared to the resonant demand he’d made when he’d first opened the door. |

Carol kept the bewilderment in her face as she said, ‘You are Tadeusz Radecki? I am in the right place?’

‘I know who I am. What I want to know is who you are.’ Radecki had recovered some of his composure and his words were delivered in a tone that was almost covered by a veneer of civilized manners.

‘Caroline Jackson,’ she said, extending a hand tentatively towards him.

He reached for her hand and took it gingerly, as if afraid it would disappear under his touch. His fingers were cool and dry, but the handshake was strangely limp, like that of a politician who has to press the flesh more often than is comfortable. He bowed slightly, the familiarity of instilled manners providing him with a space to gather himself. ‘Tadeusz Radecki, as you rightly assumed.’ He dropped her hand and moved slightly further from her, still frowning, but with caution overlaying the hard-edged features of his face. ‘Now, perhaps, you would do me the courtesy of telling me what you are doing in my opera box?’

‘I wanted to meet you. I’m sorry to butt in on you like this, but I needed to be sure of getting you on your own. Somewhere private. Do you mind if I sit down?’ Carol wanted

 

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1^

 

to be closer to the front of the box, where she could be seen from the tiers of seats in the circle. She knew Petra was out there somewhere, but she also wanted the added security of being visible. If she blew it from the start, she didn’t want to be vulnerable to violence. Not that he looked the sort who would need to resort to that.

Tadeusz pulled out a chair for her, but didn’t sit himself. Instead, he leaned against the parapet of the box, his back to the auditorium. Behind him, the low buzz of conversation swirled upwards from the stalls. He folded his arms across his chest and studied her as she settled into the velvet upholstery. ‘So, Ms Jackson, we are private. Why are you here?’

‘I know - that is, I used to know Colin Osborne.’

Radecki raised his eyebrows and his mouth quirked in a ‘so what’ expression. ‘Should that mean something to me?’ he asked.

Carol smiled broadly and enjoyed the spasm of reaction across Radecki’s eyes that provoked. She had him, she knew. He was seeing Katerina in front of him and, in spite of his attempts to maintain a cool facade, he was unsettled. Which was precisely what she wanted. ‘Considering how much business the two of you did together, I think he’d be very hurt that you’ve forgotten him so quickly.’

‘You must be mistaken, Ms Jackson. I don’t recall ever having done business with a Mr … Osborne, did you say?’ He was aiming for genial indulgence, but he wasn’t hitting the mark. There was a wariness in his posture that might have escaped many observers. But Carol had learned her lessons, from Tony and from others, and she recognized his unease. Now she was in the thick of it, she was starting to enjoy herself, feeling the power she had to control this situation.

‘Look, I understand why you’re being wary here. You know how Colin died, so of course it makes you edgy, having some

 

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strange woman walk through the door and start talking about him. But I know that you guys made a lot of money together, — and that’s what I want to talk to you about.’ ^

He shook his head, a tight smile failing to loosen up his face. ‘You must have the wrong person, Ms Jackson. The only business interest I have is a chain of stores that sell and rent videos. Now, your Mr Osborne may well have been one of our suppliers, but I employ staff to deal with people like that. You don’t think I conduct the day-to-day purchase of stock myself, do you?’ His mild air of condescension was well done; H he was recovering control of himself by the second. She couldn’t afford to let that happen. Not quite yet.

Carol leaned back in her chair, bidding for the relaxed look. ‘You’re very good,’ she said. ‘No, really, you are,’ she added as he tried a look of mild surprise. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d fall for the “legitimate businessman” line. But I didn’t come all the way to Berlin to talk about videos, Tadzio.’

The use of the diminutive form of his first name was another calculated move on Carol’s part to wrong-foot him. That it had worked was obvious in the narrowing of his eyes. He was trying to get past his initial reaction, to size her up, but he couldn’t escape the power of memory. ‘Then you’ve wasted your time, Ms Jackson,’ he said.

She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. Look, it’s obvious that you must be missing Colin badly. I’ve come to take up the slack.’

He shrugged. ‘You’re not making sense.’ The five-minute bell rang, signalling the imminent end of the interval. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think you should be getting back to your seat.’

‘The view from here is much better, you know. I think I’d rather stay.’ Carol dropped her bag on the floor and crossed her legs, tilting her head and smiling at him. She could see

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