Bloody Valentine - James Patterson [2]
There was a light but no windows. Shelves were bolted to the walls – waist high on one side, shoulder height on the other. The secret place was small, but there was room to move around.
Chains had been wound around the shelf at waist height. Leather straps fastened to the links at measured points. Straps that would fasten ankles, knees, hips, waist, arms, wrists and neck securely to the shelf.
The killer turned to the shelves on the other side and emptied the bag except for a can of spray paint. The chef’s knives and the two-pronged fork were set out in a row, steel blades gleaming in the electric light. There was a roll of red satin ribbon and a sheet of pink-heart gift wrap, a plastic box, and a white cardboard box, with a printed address label and a plastic flag. Next to them the killer laid the stun gun that looked like a mobile phone, bought in Florida and smuggled back through Gatwick. It was illegal to buy stun guns in Britain.
‘Killing isn’t murder when it’s necessary.’
The killer spoke the words aloud. One final check before leaving, closing and locking the door. A quick spray of paint. It was a second coat. The paint was invisible, difficult to check.
Back to the corridors in the building, then returning to the apartment, avoiding CCTV cameras, moving as slowly and carefully as on the journey down.
Home! The lock clicked. The sound was loud.
A cry tore through the air from behind a bedroom door. The killer froze.
Chapter Two
The killer remained still, silent. The cry subsided to a soft moan. After a heart-thundering eternity, the sound of steady breathing once more echoed from behind the door.
A nightmare!
Slip into own bedroom. Undress with five minutes to spare. 3.05. Everything was ready. Close eyes, try to sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day – and, for one person, their last.
‘Happy Valentine’s Day, darling.’ Jack Barnes set the tray on the four-poster bed next to his wife, Zee.
She opened her eyes to a vista of pink.
‘Pink rose, cranberry juice, fresh raspberries topped with raspberry yoghurt, smoked salmon and pink scrambled eggs. The eggs are a cheat. I mixed tomato juice into them.’ Jack shook out the napkin and laid it over the sheet. ‘The best I could do with the coffee was to serve it in a pink mug.’
‘You are a sweetheart.’ Zee pulled his head down and kissed him.
‘The last luxury.’ He uncovered a pink iced doughnut.
‘If I eat that, I’ll grow as big as an elephant,’ Zee complained.
‘In five months we’ll start training for the London Marathon so you can run off the baby weight.’
‘Only if I can bear to leave the baby.’
‘Strap him or her to your back,’ he teased.
‘Have you time for coffee?’
‘No, because I’m working on another surprise.’
‘What?’
‘It won’t be a surprise if I tell you. Enjoy breakfast. I’ll meet you at the restaurant for lunch.’
‘One o’clock at our usual table? Or in your office?’
‘Our table. Make the most of this lazy day,’ he warned. ‘The next Valentine’s Day will be filled with baby and nappies.’
‘I’m looking forward to being a mother.’
‘As opposed to wife?’ he joked.
‘I’ll always be that.’
He went to the door and blew her a kiss. ‘Love you lots.’
‘Love you more.’ It was her standard reply, but it always made him smile.
Jack went into the living room. Their cleaner, Sara, was dusting.
‘Thanks for setting up the breakfast tray, Sara.’
‘My pleasure, Mr Jack. How long will you and Mrs Zee be gone?’
He held his finger to his lips. ‘Zee doesn’t know about the trip yet. We’ll be back on Monday.’
‘I’ll give the apartment a good clean over the weekend.’
‘It always looks immaculate to me, Sara. You do a fine job.’
‘Nice of you to say so, Mr Jack.’
Jack left the apartment and, ignoring the lift, walked down the stairs. He’d lived in Barnes Buildings in Mayfair for five years. Originally two houses, he’d hired an architect to convert them into apartments for himself and his family. His penthouse was large and luxurious. It had four balconies,