Mark Pearson - Blood Work

'Who's Michael Hill?' Kate asked, puzzled by their tone.

'He's the scene-of-crime photographer, Kate. He took those pictures and if there is one on that site that isn't on our files then he took that one too, and made a mistake when he was putting them up on the Net.'

Diane stabbed her cigarette in the air. 'We've got the bastard then.'

Delaney shook his head angrily. 'Not yet we haven't.'

Kate Walker stood up. 'For Christ's sake, Jack. Are you telling me he's got Sally?'

'He doesn't know we're on to him. There's no need to panic.'

Diane Campbell shook her head. 'He's been playing games with you all along.'

'It doesn't fit the pattern, Diane. She never worked at the hospital.'

'And what if she mentions what she asked Kate to look into?'

Delaney didn't answer her, what colour left in it was draining from his face.

Jessica Tam smiled at the sour-faced receptionist as she headed for the exit but, as usual, got nothing in response. The woman had been working there long enough to recognise most people by now, but there was no sign of it on her stony face. Maybe she reserved the smiles for the doctors and consultants, in that regard she wouldn't be unlike many others that worked at the South Hampstead. Seemed to her that if you didn't like people, being a receptionist wasn't exactly the best job in the world. Jessica loved people, loved helping people in need, and for her nursing wasn't just a job, it truly was a vocation. Shame it didn't pay any better, though, she couldn't help thinking as she stepped out into the cold car park not at all surprised to see it was raining again. Be nice to be able to save up enough to buy a better car. One that had heating that worked properly, that didn't steam up every time in wet weather. One that would start first time in the winter. She looked up at the sky above her, far too dark for this time of year. It was nights like these she wished her paternal grandfather hadn't come all that way and fallen in love with an English barmaid. Mind you, if he hadn't come to England, she thought with a little wry smile, she wouldn't have been born.

She slipped her handbag off her shoulder and fumbled for her car keys, thinking to herself that her car might be a bit of a heap, but at least she didn't have to walk across the common and through the heath. She shuddered thinking of the poor woman who had been found there and said a silent prayer for her colleague Mr Collins who was probably one of the nicest registrars she had ever worked with. A loving father, a kind and generous man. She couldn't even begin to imagine why anyone would want to hurt him. Her hands shook slightly as she tried to fit the key in the car door and fumbling she dropped them to the ground. She bent over and startled slightly as a man stepped up from behind her and snatched them up from the ground. She looked up a little scared, but then smiled, relieved, as she saw who it was.

'Dr Archer. You startled me.'

Paul Archer smiled back at her, his brown eyes almost black in the gloom of the poorly lit car park. 'Then for that I do apologise. I really must make it up to you in some way.'

Jessica Tam held her hand out for her keys and Paul Archer smiled once more.

Some pleasures are to be savoured. Michael Hill thought. Some to be played out over time, like a symphony. But some morsels you want to rush at, devour and move on to the next.

He looked at the blonde woman, dressed only in her underwear, one hand hanging from a manacle. At the moment she was unconscious, but she would be awake soon enough. Would he do her quickly like the others, or would he leave her for a while? She wasn't part of the original plan but then she had made herself part of it, wrote herself into a leading role when she was only supposed to be a supporting extra. Jack Delaney's eager-eyed sidekick, lusting after the Irishman like the rest of them. Asking questions, beavering away, keen to get on the arrogant prick's good side. She had asked one question too many, however, and the thought of how Delaney was going to react to what was going to happen to her… well, that was just going to make it all the more enjoyable. He smiled at the prospect and then collected himself, he needed to focus, there was other work to do first. He went to the side table and picked up a dark, curly-haired wig and put it on. Looking at himself in the mirror on the wall he smiled again. The perfect disguise. Jack Delaney, eat your heart out. 'Hey, cowboy. Time to ride,' he said out loud.

A coughed laugh behind him made him spin round.

'You're really pathetic, you know that? You're not a tenth the man he is.'

Michael Hill spun round and shook his head angrily. 'The way I see it, one of us looks pathetic, but it isn't me.'

Sally grimaced as she tried to loosen the manacle on her wrist.

'Hurts, doesn't it?' He held up his right wrist. 'I should know. My aunt used to hang me from the manacle and beat me when I was a child.'

'That's a tattoo, Michael.'

'Shut up!' he barked angrily at her and slapped her.

'And you never lived with your aunt as a child.'

'You don't know anything about me.'

Sally fought to keep her voice level, she had read the books at college. She knew that people like him got off on fear. It was all about power and control. The moment she showed herself as weak, the moment he smelled her fear, was the moment she was lost. 'I'm a detective, dickhead. I don't just go out on dates with men without finding out about them first. Your parents died when you were ten years old and your twenty-one-year-old sister took custody of you because your aunt was registered blind.'

'I told you to shut up!' He raised his hand as if to slap her again but then dropped it, his voice almost a whisper. 'You don't know anything about me.'

Sally softened her own voice. 'I know that you're scared, Michael. But it's not too late. You can put a stop to this. You can get help.' Her eyes pleaded with him. 'Let me help you.'

Hill walked across to the table again and picked up a length of cloth, then stepped forward and tied the cloth round her mouth. He leaned in and whispered in her ear. 'I've someone to take care of first. But I'll be back for you. Then we'll see who's scared.'

Sally twisted her head away, the feel of his moist breath in her ear far worse than the slap he had given her.

He headed to the corner of the cellar and up the steps. Sally stared at him defiantly until the small square of light disappeared as he closed the hatch above.

Sally howled with rage as best she could through the tight gag, then slumped against the wall. Her eyes scared now, filling with tears as fought to keep control of her bladder. She wasn't sure she had done the right thing provoking him, but she knew one thing: if she was going to die it wasn't going to be without a fight. After a few minutes working her jaw she managed to loosen the gag, enough to shout for help, but as her voice echoed in the thick walls of the cellar she realised it was a futile exercise. No one was ever going to hear her. She twisted her wrist once more, grunting with pain and desperation as she tried to slide her hand through the manacle.

And failed.

Delaney hung up the phone and shook his head. 'He's not at home.' An army of flak-jacketed officers had descended on Michael Hill's flat. But there was no sign either of him or Sally Cartwright.

Diane lit up another cigarette. 'He may not be meaning to hurt her.' But her voice betrayed her true feelings.

Kate walked across from the printer. 'This is a list of everyone working at the South Hampstead over the last year. And the smaller list is ones who have all at one time worked with the three victims so far.'

Delaney scanned the small list – names, addresses and phone numbers – and two of the names jumped out at him straight away: Paul Archer and Jessica Tam. Jessica had been one of the team who had fought so desperately to save his wife's life. He remembered her genuine grief that they hadn't been able to save either of them. He remembered her kind words, her genuine solicitude. He remembered her small, delicate body, her almost oriental features. Most of all he remembered her gentle smile and her humanity. And then he remembered what had been done to the other two women.