Майкл Ридпат: The Predator

‘Do you think so?’

‘It seems the most likely to me. I can’t think of any other reason.’

‘So who did drown Alex?’ Duncan asked.

‘There’s only one possibility,’ Chris said. ‘Three people dived into the sea. You, Ian, and Eric.’

‘Eric.’

‘Must be,’ said Chris. Now he had made that assumption everything slotted into place in his brain. ‘Eric drowned Alex. Lenka found out about it and threatened to tell people. So Eric killed her. Ian knew about that, and now he’s dead.’

‘Jesus,’ said Duncan.

‘Of course, Eric didn’t kill Lenka and Ian himself. Probably he hired the same man who scared Megan and me.’ The man with the moustache and long hair. The man in New York whose run Chris had recognized from Prague.

A moustache and long hair could easily be faked. Suddenly, Chris knew who the man was.

‘Terry,’ he said. ‘Eric’s driver and part-time bodyguard. Terry.’ Chris turned to Duncan. ‘What do you think?’

Duncan blew air through his cheeks. ‘It all hangs together,’ he said. ‘After getting so upset about Ian, I don’t want to jump to the wrong conclusion this time, but I think you’re right. Eric is the only one who makes sense. Apart from anything else, it would take some organization to do all that. I’m sure Eric could get someone like this Terry to jet all over the world doing his dirty work for him. But I’m not sure any of the rest of us could. Eric seems such a charming guy, but there’s something cold about him underneath. He’s always calculating, you know what I mean? Yeah, I think it fits.’

They stared at John Bunyan’s grimy toes a few feet in front of them.

‘Of course, you have no proof,’ said Duncan.

‘No.’

‘What about that psychologist you saw in New York?’

‘She wouldn’t talk to me. Confidentiality issues.’

‘Is there any point in trying again? Now we have a name?’

Chris considered this. ‘I don’t know. I don’t see why not. Give me your phone.’

It was a quarter past one, eight fifteen New York time, but Dr Marcia Horwath was already in the office, even if her receptionist wasn’t. She answered her own phone.

‘Dr Horwath, this is Chris Szczypiorski.’

‘Oh, yes?’ Her voice was cool, but Chris thought he detected a trace of curiosity.

‘We met last week. I asked you about the testing of Bloomfield Weiss trainees.’

‘Of course.’

‘Have you had a chance to think about whether you can give me any more information about the test results?’

‘Yes, I have, and I’m afraid the answer is no. At the time, I decided it was my duty to tell Bloomfield Weiss about my concerns. Beyond that, I owe a duty of confidentiality to them, and to the trainees concerned.’

‘I understand that,’ said Chris, trying not to show his impatience. ‘And I appreciate that this is a difficult ethical problem. But Ian Darwent was murdered two days ago. That means three of the seven people on that boat have been killed, probably all by the same person. It is very likely that person will kill again.’

‘Then you should inform the police,’ said Marcia. ‘I would have to consider a request from them.’

‘It’s not that easy,’ said Chris. ‘Please.’ Sod it. He let the desperation come through in his voice. ‘The next person to be killed may well be me. This isn’t some abstract ethical dilemma. If I die in the next few days because you didn’t give me the information I need, you will remember this conversation for the rest of your life.’

There was silence at the end of the phone. Duncan gave Chris a thumbs up in encouragement.

‘Dr Horwath?’

She answered him. ‘One of the tests I used was the Minnesota Multiphasic Personality Inventory. This is more commonly used in diagnosing personality disorders than in recruitment, but it seemed appropriate, given Bloomfield Weiss’s aims. During the period I used the test, two candidates’ results suggested major psychopathology. I requested further interviews with both of them, and my fears were confirmed. I expressed my reservations each time in the strongest possible terms to Mr Calhoun at Bloomfield Weiss, who went ahead and hired them both anyway. One of them was Steven Matzley, who as you know was convicted of rape after he had left Bloomfield Weiss.’

There was a pause. Come on, thought Chris. The other one. The name. Give me the name.

‘The other was recruited later. Mr Calhoun subsequently called me back to tell me that he had achieved first place in his training programme. I believe it was the same training programme you attended. Mr Calhoun seemed to think that this was a vindication of his decision to hire the candidate despite my protests.’

‘Thank you very much, Dr Horwath.’

‘No problem. You will keep me informed of developments, won’t you?’

‘I will,’ said Chris.

He handed the phone back to Duncan.

‘Well?’ Duncan asked.

‘Eric.’ Eric had come top of his training programme. It was Eric who had displayed strong psychopathic tendencies. They were well hidden by his smoothness, his charm, his apparent frankness. But Dr Horwath had had no doubt. They were there. ‘She said it was Eric.’

‘That just about settles it.’ Duncan exhaled. ‘So what do we do now? Go to the police?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Chris. ‘It’s difficult. In the first place, there’s the problem of which police force to report it to. We’re talking about three murders in three different countries, none of them Britain. Also, we don’t have enough proof to get Eric arrested immediately. The police would have to start a long and complicated international investigation. Eric would hire the best lawyers in three countries to keep himself out of jail. And in the meantime you, me and Megan would all be in danger. The police might never get the evidence to convict him, and even if they did, we’d probably be dead by the time they locked him up.’

‘I see what you mean,’ said Duncan. ‘But we can’t sit around doing nothing, waiting for someone else to die. What about Lenka? And Ian and Alex? If Eric killed them, we can’t let him get away with it.’

‘I don’t know what else we can do,’ said Chris.

‘I do,’ said Duncan, determination in his voice.

‘No, Duncan,’ said Chris. ‘I know I was wrong to think that you stabbed Ian, but I wasn’t wrong that that would be a stupid thing to do. You’d get caught. Killing people is wrong, Duncan, even when it’s someone like Eric.’

‘I admire your moral scruples, Chris. But if we don’t do something about it, he’ll kill us all anyway.’

Chris knew Duncan was right. ‘OK, OK. Perhaps we should go to the police. It’s a risk, but as you say, so is doing nothing. I want to talk to Megan about it before we do, though. I’m seeing her this evening.’

‘Why do you need to talk to her?’

‘Because she’s in just as much danger as we are if Eric finds out what we’re doing.’

‘OK,’ said Duncan. ‘We’ll do it your way. Talk to her, and then we’ll go to the police. But for God’s sake, be careful about it.’

Marcus took the long run down to the lake smoothly, his cross-country skis sliding over the snow, freshly fallen from the night before. The sky was clear and blue, and he was surrounded by muffled silence, his favourite sound. He paused by the side of the frozen lake, which should hold his weight for a few weeks yet. The half-dozen summer cabins that ringed it were quiet, still in hibernation, the snow on their roofs and in their yards undisturbed. He struck out across the lake, moving easily over the thin layer of snow that covered the ice. This was where he liked to think, to recharge. It would be a long slog from the lake uphill back to his house, but it was worth it.