It wouldnt hurt, though, would it? Kit chipped in. Its not like youd be going back on your word and working for the Met. Youd just be doing Steve a personal favour. I mean, look at him. Hes gutted. Hes supposed to be your best mate. Dont you want to help him out?
Fiona sat down, leaning forward so her shoulder-length chestnut hair curtained her face. Steve opened his mouth to speak but Kit urgently waved him to silence, mouthing, No! at him. Steve raised one shoulder in a half-shrug.
Eventually, Fiona sighed deeply and pushed her hair back with both hands. Fuck it, Ill do it, she said. Catching Steves delighted grin, she added, No promises, remember. Bike the stuff round to me first thing in the morning and Ill take a look.
Thanks, Steve said. Even if its a long shot, I need all the help I can get. I appreciate it.
Good. So you should, she said severely. Now, can we talk about something else?
It was after midnight by the time Fiona and the Rough Guide finally made it to bed. When Kit came through from the bathroom, he eyed her reading material with a curious frown. Is that a subtle way of telling me its about time we started planning a holiday? he asked, slipping under the duvet and snuggling up to her.
I should be so lucky. Its work, Im afraid. I got a request today from the Spanish Police for a consultation. Two murders in Toledo that look like the start of a series.
I take it youve decided to go, then?
Fiona waggled the book under his nose. Looks like it. Ill have to speak to them in the morning about the practicalities, but I should be able to get away at the end of the week for a few days without too much difficulty.
Kit rolled on to his back and folded his arms above his head. And there was me thinking you were planning a romantic break to Torremolinos.
Fiona put her book down and turned to face Kit, her fingers curling the soft dark hairs on his chest. You could come along for the ride if you like. Toledos a beautiful town. Its not like there would be nothing to occupy you while Im working. It wouldnt do you any harm to have a break.
He dropped one arm to her shoulder, pulling her closer to him. Im way behind with the book, and if youre not around over the weekend, thatll be a good excuse for me to lock myself away and work straight through.
He dropped one arm to her shoulder, pulling her closer to him. Im way behind with the book, and if youre not around over the weekend, thatll be a good excuse for me to lock myself away and work straight through.
You could work in Toledo. Her hand strayed down his stomach.
With you to distract me?
Id be working all day. And probably half the night, if past experience is anything to go by. She settled herself more comfortably into his side.
I might as well be at home, by the sound of it.
Youd like it, Fiona yawned. Its an interesting city. You never know, it might inspire you.
Yeah, right, I can see myself writing the definitive Spanish serial killer thriller.
Why not? Its a dirty job, but somebodys got to do it. I just thought you might like a bit of a break somewhere that does spectacular gourmet food Fionas voice tailed off sleepily.
I do think of other things than my stomach, he protested. Isnt it Toledo that has all the El Grecos?
Thats right, Fiona said. And his house. Her eyes were closed and her voice was a mumble as she slithered down the dreamy slope towards sleep.
Now, that does sound worth the trip. Maybe I will come after all, Kit said. There was no reply. An early rise and ten miles of Derbyshire moorland had finally taken their toll. Kit grinned and reached out with his free arm for the James Sallis paperback on his night table. Unlike Fiona, he could never sleep without supping his fill of horrors. But then, he reasoned, he knew that what he was reading was fiction. It didnt matter if he hadnt solved the crime when it was time to turn the light out. The killers he was interested in wouldnt be killing again until he was ready for them.
FIVE
The flight to Madrid was half-empty. Without having to be asked, Kit left Fiona with a double seat to herself and moved across the aisle, where he flipped up the screen of his laptop and started work as soon as they were in the air, his Walkman rendering him oblivious to any outside distractions. On the way to the airport, hed nagged her about making a start on the thick bundle Steve had had delivered to the house, which Fiona had been studiously ignoring for the past two days. Shed been hiding behind the necessity of familiarizing herself with the material from Toledo, but if she was honest, shed been as thorough with that as she could be. Now she had no excuse, and the flight was just long enough to get a flavour of what she had to digest.
The first section began with a page of personal ads from Time Out. During the course of his lengthy police interviews, Blake had admitted that although he had a long-term relationship with an air hostess, he also replied to women who advertised in the lonely hearts column. Hed said that he went for the ones who seemed insecure, because they were always grateful to meet a good-looking bloke like him. Hed admitted he was interested principally in sex, but insisted that he didnt want to waste his time on brainless bimbos. From what Fiona remembered of the original interview transcripts, Blake had seemed confident, even arrogant about his capacity to attract women; a man who knew what he wanted and didnt doubt he could get it. He certainly hadnt come over as weak or inadequate.
Based on his interpretation of the interviews, Horsforth had constructed several ads that he felt would appeal to their suspect. The first attempts had produced plenty of responses, though none was from Blake. So much for getting inside the head of the killer, Fiona muttered under her breath. But the second round snared their target. He had responded: SWF, 26, slim, new to N. London, seeks male guide for conversation, meals, movies and an introduction to the bright lights and good times. GSOH. Pictures please.
Blake had described himself as a professional man of twenty-nine with an interest in cinema, reading, walking in Londons parks, and enjoying female company. Under Andrew Horsforths guidance, Detective Constable Erin Richards had written the reply. Dear Francis, it read.
Thanks for your letter, it was easily the most charming of all the ones Ive received. I must confess Im a little nervous about this because its not the sort of thing I normally do. Would it be OK with you if we exchanged a couple more letters before we actually meet? Like you, Im interested in going to the cinema. What kind of films do you like best? Although I know its probably not what women are supposed to enjoy, I love all those wonderful dark thrillers like Seven, Eight Millimetre and Fargo, and Hitchcock films like Psycho. But theyve got to have a good plot to keep me going. As for reading, I dont get to read as much as I should. I like Patricia Cornwell, Kit Martin and Thomas Harris best, and I sometimes read true crime too. I dont really know London well enough to know where its safe to go walking. You read about such terrible things sometimes in the papers, people being mugged and raped in parks, that it makes me a bit nervous because Im a stranger. Perhaps you could show me some of your favourite walks sometime? I work in the civil service. Nothing very exciting, Im afraid. Im a clerk at the Ministry of Agriculture. I moved here from Beccles in Suffolk after my mother died. There was nothing to keep me there, because my father passed away a couple of years before her, and Ive no brothers or sisters, so I thought Id come looking for adventure in London! Id love to hear from you again if you think we might have enough in common to enjoy each others company. You can write to the box office number because Im keeping it on for a couple of weeks longer.
Yours sincerely, Eileen Rogers.
Blake had replied by return of post. Dear Eileen, hed written.
Thanks for your lovely letter. Yes, it does sound as if wed have a lot in common. We seem to go for the same kind of books and films for a start. I can understand why you might feel a bit nervous walking around London on your own. Ive lived here all my life but there are many parts of the city I dont know at all, and if I have to go there for work I sometimes feel a little anxious because its so easy to end up somewhere that can feel threatening just because its unfamiliar. It must be so much harder for a woman on her own. Id be happy to show you around. I know Hampstead Heath and Regents Park and Hyde Park well, I go there often. I realize you must be a bit nervous about meeting a stranger like me, but Id like to talk face to face. I cant help thinking we would have a lot to say to each other. We could meet somewhere public, like they recommend you should for a first time. I could meet you on Saturday afternoon and we could have coffee together. I thought we could meet outside the Hard Rock Cafe at Hyde Park Corner at three oclock. You can phone me to confirm the arrangements if you like. Please say yes. You sound just the kind of woman I want to meet.
Best wishes, Francis Blake.
The fish had swallowed the bait remarkably easily, Fiona thought. It wasnt so much that Horsforth had been particularly clever or subtle in the way hed orchestrated the approach, as that Blake had been surprisingly eager to make the contact, in spite of having been the subject of such close police attention. Perhaps that was why hed been so keen; he was desperately in need of a respite with someone who knew nothing of what hed been through at the hands of the law. For a man who apparently liked to be in control, it must have been infuriating to be surrounded by people who thought they knew more about him than they really did. A stranger who knew nothing of his role as a suspect would allow him to feel relaxed.
Whatever the reasons, it had provided the opportunity for the operation to go ahead. DC Richards had phoned Blake and arranged to meet. The call had lasted for about ten minutes, Fiona noted. Theyd chatted without much awkwardness, mostly about films theyd seen recently, then made arrangements to meet. At their first encounter, as on every subsequent one, Richards was wired for sound, transmitting the conversation to a back-up radio van that kept discreet tabs on the pair of them throughout.
Richards had played her role well, striking an appropriate balance between edgy nervousness and eager friendliness. Theyd gone for coffee, then Blake had suggested a short walk through the park before they parted. As theyd walked, hed pointed out to her the sort of places she could go safely on her own and the ones she should avoid. He seemed to know exactly which areas were open and well-lit and which were gloomy, dotted with shrubbery that could provide hiding places for anyone with dubious intentions. It wasnt the sort of analysis that the average park stroller would make of his environment, Fiona thought. Just as someone who has almost been trapped in a fire takes an unnatural interest in fire exits forever afterwards, so only someone who imagined using a park for something other than fresh air and exercise would view their surroundings as Francis Blake viewed his. He looked at his world like a predator, not a victim.