Craig Russell - The Carnival Master

‘Yes… Suzi?’

‘That’s me. Or it’s not really, just like I suppose you’re not really Hans. But let’s see how the evening goes and we can take it from there.’

Oliver smiled. She was smart too. And knew what she wanted. He just hoped that she understood, fully, what it was that he wanted.

Suzi declined Oliver’s offer of dinner.

‘Let’s just go somewhere private,’ she said and smiled a wicked crimson smile. ‘I think we both have an appetite that pasta isn’t going to satisfy.’

Oliver felt his heart pick up the pace and a stirring in his groin. ‘Let’s go to my hotel room.’

‘No,’ she said. ‘Not your hotel. My place. I feel safer there and we won’t have to worry about… well, noise.’

Oliver thought it over. He didn’t like the idea of an unknown location. His hotel had, again, been carefully selected. And he had to be very careful. He knew that, if things didn’t go his way, he would not be able to control his temper and it could get messy. He needed to know his way out of wherever he was.

‘Are you sure?’ he asked. ‘I thought a hotel room was, well, neutral ground, I suppose.’

‘Listen, Hans,’ Suzi said, still smiling but with resolve in her voice. ‘We both know what we want. We are different from others. Our needs. But I need to have my things around. For after. You know, to fight infection, that kind of thing. Trust me, Hans, I think this could be the start of a beautiful friendship. Now, are you coming or not?’

Oliver looked at her for a moment, then said decisively: ‘Okay. Let’s go…’

The last bucket had been filled with iced water. The shock after the hot water had robbed Maria of her breath – and, for several seconds, of her consciousness. When she came round her heart was hammering and intense pain shot through her left arm and across her chest. She had heard of people dying from heart attacks in cold plunge pools after too long in the sauna. What she had experienced had been the same experience amplified a hundredfold. The pain eased, but she knew that her heart probably would not withstand many more of these temperature shocks. Maria was also aware that she had lost even more body heat. Her mind was becoming fuzzy.

Vitrenko stood over her. She looked up at him and, for a second, saw his former face and gold-blond hair. Then the illusion faded. His hair darkened, his face reshaped around the unchanging eyes. He crouched down and grabbed a handful of her short dyed-black hair, snapping her head back and forcing her to look at him.

‘How did it feel to be someone else, Maria?’ Vitrenko’s emerald eyes glittered hard and cold in his new face. ‘It’s liberating, isn’t it? For a while you actually do become the person you pretend to be. You thought you had got to know Taras Buslenko. Oh yes, he does exist. Or at least he did. Like you, Buslenko took everything far too seriously. This is just business. But Buslenko was an eager young fool. A patriot. He was full of all kinds of romantic ideals about what Ukraine could be. And, just like you, he made it his personal mission to find me and kill me. So everything I said to you… all that really was him. He lived again through me. In a way, you really did get to know the real Buslenko. What’s it like to get to know a dead man?’ Vitrenko let go of Maria’s hair and her head fell forward. ‘You wanted to kill me too, didn’t you, Maria? You wanted it so badly that you were prepared to sacrifice your life to take mine. But the real Maria Klee wasn’t up to the task, was she? First you had to become someone else. And the reason you had to do that is that you were too broken and too afraid before. But I’ll tell you something right now: the old Maria was right. You should have stayed afraid.’

‘I need to sleep…’ was all Maria managed to utter.

‘Okay,’ said Vitrenko. He smiled and suddenly his voice became warm and friendly. Vitrenko became Buslenko again. ‘I’ll let you sleep, Maria. With blankets to keep you cosy. Out there, outside the cold store, in the warm. I’ll give you a hot drink before you sleep. The access codes… all you have to do is give me the access codes or tell me where they are and I’ll allow you out of here and let you get some sleep.’

Maria became aware that she had stopped shivering. She was beginning to feel warmer. Even more sleepy. Her leaden eyelids slowly succumbed to gravity. She was going to cheat Vitrenko. Her eyes snapped open as he slapped her hard across the face.

‘Maria – stay awake. If you fall asleep in here, you’ll die. Out there… out there you can sleep and live. Tell me the access codes.’

‘I forget…’ Maria’s eyes started to close again. Vitrenko started to shout and Maria vaguely thought that that was what swearing must sound like in Ukrainian. She felt his boot smash into her ribs, but she was too sleepy and already too distant from her own flesh to feel any pain.

Maria closed her eyes and slept.

‘This is it…’ Suzi said. She had insisted that they take her car, which suited Oliver in one way because there had been no taxi driver to identify him. But it also meant that he had no quick getaway. Suzi led him up the stairs and into her apartment. There was a small hall with a number of doors off it, all but one of which were closed. The open door, he could see, led into the bedroom. He waited for her to show him into the lounge, but she guided him directly into the bedroom.

‘What?’ He grinned mischievously. ‘No preliminaries?’ He took in the bedroom. It was surprisingly characterless, almost functional, which was odd, given the size of Suzi’s personality.

‘Maybe a little chat first,’ Suzi said. She sat down on the edge of the bed and patted the spot next to her. ‘And then we’ll have some fun.’

Oliver sat down. Suzi was beginning to annoy him. He had always seen himself as a predator, but it was almost as if she was leading their dance. Suddenly the situation seemed less appealing to him and Oliver was aware that he was being robbed of much of his enjoyment. He had never fully considered how much of his gratification came from his power over them. And from their horror. Their shock. Their fear.

No, he thought, I will lead this dance. Oliver felt the rage rise inside him. If she did not succumb to exactly what he wanted, then he would smash her face. This was not about her, or her needs: it was about him and his.

‘Have you done this before?’ asked Suzi. Her hair had been coiled up behind her head and she undid it. A glorious red, but much deeper than Sylvia’s, the girl who had introduced him to his own hunger, so many years before.

‘Of course I have,’ he said. ‘Lots of times. Why don’t you get undressed? Let’s get started.’

‘Not yet,’ said Suzi. ‘I want to know if you’ve done this with other girls.’

‘Yes, sure. Loads of them. I told you.’

‘And they enjoyed it?’

‘Well. Maybe not as much as you will. They misunderstood.’

‘They didn’t want you to do it but you did it anyway?’

‘I don’t know… yes, I suppose so. What does that matter?’ Oliver frowned. This was ruining it. What did the stupid bitch have to talk for? He grabbed her roughly by the shoulders. ‘You said in your reply that this is what you wanted. Let’s do it.’

‘You want to bite me?’

‘Yes,’ Oliver said, breathless. Lust and anger robbed him of oxygen. ‘I’m going to bite you.’

‘You want to make me bleed and tear flesh from my buttocks?’ Suzi drew closer to him. He could smell her body, her hair. ‘Like you bit the others?’

‘Yes…’ He started to pull at her blouse. He saw the swell of her breast. Full, warm flesh.