Mike Ashley - The Mammoth Book of Locked-Room Mysteries And Impossible Crimes

Claudia felt a tidal wave of relief wash over her. For once, Supersnoop was wide of the mark. Junius had simply cracked his head on a rock before falling down that ravine! But what of Soni?

Suppose, she thought, trailing her hand in the fountain as she passed, Max had decided to satisfy himself that Soni was all that he’d seemed? Soni’s refusal to comply with a criminal act would have blown his cover right out of the water, and suddenly Claudia was extremely keen to meet the man who had staged his own disappearance in broad daylight without arousing suspicion and yet had returned with a convincing explanation!

Glancing at Max, suave and easy, Claudia found no problem in picturing him up to his ears in racketeering, using the hunts as a front, both to make deals at the highest of levels and also to enforce any threats. He led her in to his office and clapped his hands. Immediately, a negro slave answered the call.

“Fetch Soni here, will you?”

“Master?” the old man’s face creased in a frown.

“Stop dithering, man. Just fetch him. Shoo!”

Strong hands poured two goblets of rich honey mead, hesitating a fraction before handing Claudia hers. “You- You aren’t going to marry me, are you?” Max asked quietly.

“No,” she admitted. “I’m not.”

His gifts were welcome, of course – the tiaras, the earstuds. But the Great Plan had been to ingratiate herself with his wealthy clientele and sign them up for hefty consignments of Seferius wine. Well-oiled (thanks to Max) they’d be pushovers for good, vintage wine and would be in no mood to worry about loaded prices. Especially when the alternative was this sickly concoction. Yuk. Two parts thunderbolt, one part bile, it was watered down with three ladlefuls of the River Styx. No wonder they had to add honey!

“Claudia -”

His voice came from down a dark tunnel, and the tunnel was closing in all around.

“Claudia?”

The voice echoed like stones in a barrel and her vision grew cloudy. Bloody mead! Filthy stuff.

“Is everything all right, darling?”

“Perfectly.”

But everything was not all right.

Jellified knees gave way. Lights went dim. And Claudia collapsed in a heap on the floor.

Was she dead? Was this blackness Stygian gloom? There were no three-headed dogs about, but there was barking. Claudia tried to lift her head, and found it had been glued to the floor. When she finally raised it, she wanted to hold it with both hands to prevent it rolling into the corner.

Except… Except her hands had been glued down, as well. She couldn’t lift them. Ignoring the hammering inside her head, she tried harder. And found not hangover lethargy , but ropes binding her tight.

“I’m sorry it ended like this,” said a familiar voice from the corner. The chair creaked when he stood up. “But you would keep pressing the subject of Soni. Oh, Claudia. If only you’d let it go.”

Primeval creatures slithered down Claudia’s spine. And how strange. High summer, yet her teeth were chattering… She struggled, but the knots were professional and her skin chafed itself raw.

“You know.” When he knelt down, she could smell the leather of his boots. “You really are very lovely.” He ran a hand gently down the length of her cheek. “Had your brain been full of feathers, we could have had a wonderful marriage and raised some damned good looking kids.” He sighed at what was not to be. “Unfortunately, though, dawn is breaking. Time to leave.”

Cold. So very cold. “People will come looking for me,” she gabbled. “Marcus, for one, won’t let it drop-”

“Ah, but this is terrible country for bandits. So many tragic accidents can befall a beautiful woman.” Either Max had thought it out carefully during the night, or else he’d done this before. “Oh, don’t look like that.” He dragged her to her feet and propelled her to the door. “I’m not so hard-hearted that I won’t pay for a lavish funeral tribute and endow the most magnificent of marble tombs you could imagine in a prominent position along the Appian Way.”

“You spoil me.”

The door cranked open and two hefty bearers pushed her into the pale pink dawn light. The barking escalated, and some of the dogs started baying. The sound, she realized with a chill, was caused by impatience. Their desire to get underway.

“Max?” Surely he wouldn’t kill her? Not Max.

But Max clicked his fingers, and the bearers manhandled her into the courtyard, where eight fat city men in short tunics milled around. None looked in Claudia’s direction. Terror gripped at her throat.

“Please-” She could hardly breathe. “Help me. For gods’ sake, one of you, help me!”

Last night, these men were her friends. Business colleagues. They’d laughed at her jokes, given her contracts for rich, vintage wine.

A vice tightened round her ribcage. Oh, sweet Juno in heaven. It’s not that they can’t hear me. It’s not that they imagine I’m drunk. They’re not helping, for the simple reason they’re busy. Checking spears and arrows and slings… And when they do glance around, it’s not a terrified girl that they’re seeing. They ’ re simply assessing the strength of their prey.

The true horror of Max’s hunting parties slammed into her, filleting every bone from her body. Finally she understood what had happened to Soni.

Why he was way out in front of the others.

The slave , goddammit , was the quarry.

That’s why Max only wanted the one. Only ever the one…

“You’ll never get away with it,” she cried, as the cart bumped over the lawns. Past the peacocks. Past the watercourses. Past the shimmering man-made lakes rimmed with reeds.

“Wrong,” Max replied, as they approached the wooded hunting grounds. Behind, the bearers loped along at a steady rhythm, their dogs straining at the leash. “All over the Empire, you’ll find men bored with a quarter century’s peace. Sons of warriors who’ve only ever heard about the clash of weapons, the bittersweet fear of hand-to-hand combat. And since they’ve never ridden into battle themselves, they hunt boar, they hunt stag, they hunt bear for their thrills and to affirm their manhood. Unfortunately, with some, that’s not enough.” Slowly, he reined in the horses. “Some seek a further dimension.”

Aegean blue eyes scanned her face.

“Can you imagine how much these men are prepared to pay to hunt humans? Thousands, Claudia. Thousands upon thousands, and you know the best part? There’s an unlimited market out there. Oh, I know you’re going to tell me your clever friend, Marcus is on to me. He’s suspected me for some time, but what can he prove? Nothing! Not one bloody thing.”

Drawing a broad hunting knife, he cut through her bonds in a businesslike fashion. For how many others, she wondered, had he done this?

“You have intelligence, cunning and resilience, Claudia Seferius, you will be a worthy adversary.” Max took her trembling chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Your tomb will do you credit, I promise.”

Claudia spat in his face. “Go to hell.”

“I probably shall,” he agreed. “Now then. We always give the quarry a chance. Here’s a slingshot, a javelin and a short stabbing dagger. Try,” he whispered, glancing at the businessmen, “to take at least one of them with you.”

Breath was too precious to waste on this son-of-a-bitch, her mind whirled like a cap in the wind. The estate was fenced in; the gates closed behind them; guards were posted; and ferocious spikes topped the perimeter fence. What the hell chance did she have?

“We normally give a count of a hundred,” he said, “but seeing as how you’re a woman, I think two hundred is fair-”