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Chapter 14

‘How can I help you, sir?’

Sampson didn’t think of his police ID as fake. It wasn’t fake – it had been removed from the still-warm body of a detective inspector and modified later so it showed Sampson’s picture. It always came in handy in situations like this. Real criminals, or people who often had dealings with the law, were usually unimpressed and uncooperative. But flash a police ID at an ordinary member of the public, and act in the right, superior way, and they would fall over themselves to help you. It was easy.

He held up the ID and said, ‘Who’s in charge here?’

There were two receptionists behind the desk, a brunette woman and a man who Sampson was pretty sure was homosexual. He could sense it in the same way someone with a phobia of cats could sense a feline presence. He bristled as the man leaned over and said, in a poofy voice that made Sampson grit his teeth, ‘The manager’s not here at the moment, sir. Perhaps we can help?’

Sampson concentrated on the woman, putting a picture down on the desk in front of her. ‘I believe this woman is staying with you.’

The receptionists gave each other a knowing look. Sampson said, ‘Well?’

The woman said, ‘She looks a lot younger in this picture, but she was staying here. She checked out this morning.’

‘Was she due to check out today?’

‘I’m not sure. Let me check.’

The woman knew Kate’s name, even though they must have hundreds of guests come and go every day. Interesting, thought Sampson.

She brought up Kate’s name on the computer screen beside her and said, ‘She was supposed to be here for another week, though there’s a note here to say her stay was open-ended.’

It was amazing how much confidential information people would give you if they thought you were a police official. It was the human need to gossip taken to a new level. Only fear of losing their jobs made people cautious. But if they felt they had to give the information away – or had an excuse to do so – they would squeal like piglets in a slaughterhouse.

‘Why did you give each other a knowing look when I showed you her photo?’

The guy couldn’t wait to tell him. ‘She had a bit of an altercation last night with one of our babysitters.’ He told him about the scene the previous evening.

‘So, she and the child checked out this morning?’

‘Yes, and the guy they were with.’

Sampson narrowed his eyes. This fucking homo was giving him the creeps. ‘A guy? Can you describe him?’

‘Um, he had really nice eyes. Late thirties, maybe. I wouldn’t make a very good witness, would I, officer?’

The woman said, ‘Are they in trouble?’

Sampson counted to three under his breath and said, ‘Maybe.’

The receptionists looked at each other. This was exciting.

‘Do you have CCTV here?’

The homo nodded. ‘I could show you if you like.’

Sampson blanched. He nodded at the woman. ‘No, you show me.’

‘Okay.’ She turned towards her colleague. ‘Can you look after things down here, Damien?’

‘I’m sure I’ll manage.’

Sampson concentrated on the receptionist’s butt as she led him towards the security office. She had a nice arse. Very womanly. Her hair was tied back in a short ponytail that exposed the back of her neck. A good spot to bite.

‘What’s your name?’ he asked.

‘Michelle.’

‘You’re being very helpful, Michelle. I won’t forget you.’

She touched her hair. ‘It’s no problem.’ She lowered her voice and cast her eyes left then right, as if checking that no-one was eavesdropping. ‘To tell you the truth, I thought there was something funny about Ms Maddox, even before the scene with the babysitter.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes. She seemed jittery, like she was afraid of something.’

She was desperate to know why he was after Kate. She’d regret finding out, though, because then he’d have to kill her.

When he had dropped off the virus and hard disk the night before, Sampson had been given the picture of Kate. She looked a bit pale and washed-out in the photo – it didn’t do her justice. Didn’t show her true extraordinary beauty. The picture was sixteen years old, taken when both Kate and he had been at the CRU.

‘It might take us a few days to get a more up-to-date picture,’ Gaunt had said. ‘Her name is Kate Maddox now.’

‘I thought I’d never see her again,’ said Sampson, gazing at the picture. Kate Maddox. She must be married. That thought had a strange effect on him, made him feel nauseous. It was something he hadn’t felt for a very long time.

Sixteen years.

‘I got tipped off that she’d entered the country. She’s probably merely on holiday or visiting friends. But as a precaution I’d like you to find out what she’s up to. Just in case.’

‘And if she’s up to something?’

‘Report back to me. There’s a chance we might have to do something we should have done a long time ago.’

Sampson felt himself growing hard.

Michelle knocked on the door of the hotel’s security room and pushed it open. A bloke in a blue uniform sat in front of a few colour screens showing various scenes from around the hotel. The lobby, the car park, the corridors, the restaurant. He had The Sun spread out before him. Sampson had already checked the papers and was pleased to see the Animal Liberation Front taking the heat for Dr Twigger’s death. Michelle explained to the guard that the detective here needed to see CCTV footage of the lobby from this morning.

Huffing and sighing, the guard played with some buttons on the desk and they watched the silent characters in the lobby go into reverse.

‘She only left half an hour ago,’ Michelle said, ‘so we shouldn’t need to rewind far.’ She scrutinised the screen carefully. After a minute or so, she said, ‘There she is. Play.’

The picture was clear and of high quality. Michelle pointed as Kate walked across the lobby, dragging a pair of suitcases, a small child beside her.

‘The little boy’s really sweet,’ said Michelle. ‘Poor thing.’

Sweet? Sampson didn’t agree. He had no interest in children. He’d hated them when he was a kid and his opinion hadn’t changed as he’d got older. But seeing Kate had a strange effect on him. He became aware of his heartbeat, of the blood flowing through his veins. And he could taste blood in his mouth. Sweat broke out on his forehead and he started to breathe heavily.

‘Are you alright?’ Michelle asked, touching his arm.

He couldn’t take his eyes off Kate.

‘There’s the guy,’ Michelle said, and Sampson felt a more familiar sensation – the desire to hurt and kill – when a man, whose face Sampson recognised with shock – took the suitcases from Kate and walked off with her. They left the lobby and vanished from view.

‘I need to see the car park footage,’ he said.

There were numerous cameras set up around the car park, and it took a while for them to locate Kate and her companion. Finally, they got a view of them getting into a silver Peugeot, though it wasn’t possible to see the registration number.

‘I’m going to need these tapes,’ he said. His mouth was dry and his chest felt strange. ‘I also need to see her room,’ he said.

‘Really?’ Michelle asked. ‘But she vacated it hours ago.’

Sampson’s stare burned into her, drawing a pink flush to the surface of her skin, creeping up from her collarbone. ‘Take me there. Now.’

She led him to the lift, which they rode to the room Kate had stayed in with Jack. She tried to make small talk but he gave her a look that made her shut up. He watched her pale, slender throat bob as she swallowed. She was attracted to him; it was easy to tell. Many women found him exciting, turned on by the strength and danger that emanated from him. Almost all of them regretted it later as they nursed their injuries, or in those last seconds before death. He smiled and showed Michelle his teeth. He would love to bite that milky throat.

He was already excited by the time they entered Kate’s hotel room, but seeing that it hadn’t yet been cleaned made his blood pump even harder. He stood by the bed, barely hearing the click of the door behind him as Michelle closed it. He shut his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose, the hunter scenting his prey. The room still smelled of perfume, mixed with the faint odour of sweat. He sat on the unmade bed and stroked the sheet where she had spent the night. Did she sleep naked? He pressed his nose to the sheet and took in the sweet, lingering scent of her flesh. He reached out to the pillow where he found a long, dark hair, which he pinched between his fingers, raising it to touch his lips.

‘What are you doing?’ Michelle asked from across the room, her voice tremulous.

He looked up. He had almost forgotten she was there. ‘Come over here,’ he said, patting the bed beside him.

She hesitated, then slowly walked across the room and sat next to him.

‘What have you got there? A hair? Is that for checking DNA or something?’

He didn’t reply. Instead, he let the strand of hair fall and reached out to Michelle, cradling the back of her head in his palm.

‘You’re pretty,’ he said.

He watched as her pupils dilated, listened to the rhythm of her breathing change, become heavier. She peered up at him through her lashes and the bloodlust raged through him. He wanted to strip her naked, throw her down on this bed where Kate had slept, this bed that contained thousands of cells of her dead skin. He wanted to fuck Michelle right there, imagining that she was Kate. He wanted to put his hands around her throat and squeeze, to see the terror in her eyes.

She reached out her hand and put it in his lap, tentatively, then more confidently as she felt the hardness within his jeans. He didn’t look at her. Instead, as she stroked his cock through the fabric – the excitement of doing this in the place where she worked evident in her touch – he pictured Kate doing this to him.

He turned towards Michelle and put his hands around her neck.

Her eyes widened with surprise.

He could do it. Would enjoy doing it. But he also knew that if he killed her here, it would cause complications. He would be on CCTV, as was his car. The police would get involved, come after him. He wasn’t scared of the police but it would slow him down, interfere with the most important thing in his life right now. Finding Kate – and not just because Gaunt had instructed him to.

He removed his hands and stood up, ignoring the pain in his groin.

‘What’s the matter?’ Michelle asked.

‘I have to go.’

As he strode towards the door, leaving a confused Michelle sitting on the bed, he felt a wave of nausea come over him. Kate. It had been sixteen years since he’d seen her, but she still had the same dizzying effect on him.

He loved her.

He hated her.

He wanted her.

He wanted her dead.