“What’s the matter?”
In linen Ralph Lauren pants and a blue silk shirt, he looked as handsome as ever. With more money to spend than he’d had before, he’d developed expensive tastes in clothes and watches that would have looked flashy on some men, but he wore them well. Then again, he wore everything well.
“Nothing. I’m tired.” Tired of looking over my shoulder. Tired of the nightmares, the loneliness, the deceit.
Lisa was standing by the window. Walking up behind her, he started rubbing her shoulders.
“Did all that sex with Matt Daley take it out of you?”
“Stop it,” she snapped. “He’s a nice man, okay? Besides, you were the one who told me to get close to him.”
It was true. He had told Lisa Baring to get close to the American, to find out what he knew. Inspector Liu was clearly stumbling around in the dark, like all the other detectives he’d dealt with. But Daley was different. He didn’t think like a cop, he thought like a human being, like somebody’s son. That alone made him dangerous.
“You fell in love with him, didn’t you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Lisa. She didn’t want to talk about Matt. Not here. Not with him. She comforted herself that at least, with her out of the picture, Matt would be safe. He’d get over her eventually. Then he could go back to L.A. and his life and pick up where he’d left off. What she wouldn’t give to be able to do the same!
She turned around to face him. “Look, I’ve done what you asked. With Miles. With Matt Daley. I have the money, I can wire it wherever you want. But what about your side of the bargain? When can I see my sister?”
“Soon.”
“‘Soon’? Soon when? You promised!”
He grabbed her violently by the throat. Lisa whimpered in fear. How had she ever been attracted to him? Ever trusted him?
“When it’s over, that’s when. When all the guilty have been punished.”
The guilty. Who are the guilty? Was Miles guilty, really? Did he deserve to die? And what about the others, the men you slaughtered all those years ago? What about their poor wives?
There was a time when she’d believed that Miles was guilty. When she’d seen the world the way he saw it. But meeting Matt Daley had changed all that. It was as if Matt had woken her from a trance, brought her back to reality. But by then it was too late.
He released his grip and Lisa slumped back against the wall, tears streaming down her cheeks. When he reached for her again, she cowered in fear, but this time his touch was gentle, brushing away the tears.
“Don’t cry, my angel. Just one more, I promise, and it will all be over. How would you like to go to India?”
“No!” Lisa sobbed. “Please. I can’t. I won’t.”
“Yes, you will…” He stroked her hair. “You need to rest first, that’s all. Like you said, you’re tired. But you know you’ll help me in the end. We’ll help each other. Remember: your sister’s counting on you.”
DANNY MCGUIRE TURNED RIGHT ONTO CLIFFWOOD, enjoying the sensation of the breeze on his face and the warm L.A. sunshine on his back as his open-topped rental car sped up the hill. It had been so long since he’d driven in Los Angeles, and his last memories of the place had been so grim, he’d entirely forgotten how much he had once loved it. Brentwood especially was glorious in the sunshine, with its clean, wide suburban streets lined with blossoming trees of every size and color, its pleasant Spanish-style homes and neatly kept yards, its white picket fences and yellow school buses and smiling, healthy-looking residents.
I must bring Céline here, he thought, just as soon as she can stand the sight of me again. Since Claude Demartin’s breakthrough at the Chaumures Laboratory, relations had thawed not only with Inspector Liu in Hong Kong but with the French and British police forces too. Even the powers that be at the LAPD were suddenly willing to let bygones be bygones and get behind Operation Azrael. As a result, Henri Frémeaux had finally given Danny a half-decent budget, more manpower and free rein to devote the bulk of his time to the operation for the next six months. Danny was delighted, but Céline had burst into tears when he told her, especially when he announced that he was kicking things off with a monthlong trip to the States.
“So this is how it starts. A month here. Six weeks there. And what about us, Danny? What about our marriage?”
He’d done his best to explain to her. A crazed killer was on the loose. Lives were in danger. But her answer was always the same: “So let someone else save them. You can save other lives here, in Lyon, like you have been doing for the last five years. You can save us.” She hadn’t even gone to the airport to see him off.
Making a left on Highwood, Danny pushed his marital troubles out of his mind. He was on his way to see Matt Daley at Matt’s sister’s house and glean what evidence he could about Lisa Baring firsthand. Lisa’s disappearance was front-page news in Hong Kong and she was now openly spoken of in the Chinese media as a suspect in her husband’s murder. Danny McGuire was reserving judgment. All he knew right now was that Lisa Baring was a link—the link—to the Azrael killer. And that Matt Daley was a link to Lisa Baring.
“You must be McGuire. I guess you’d better come in.”
Claire Michaels answered the door with a distrustful look on her face. She was blo
nd, like her brother, and had the same open, animated features, even though at this moment they were set into a scowl.
“Thanks for letting me stop by.”
She showed him into the living room. “Matt’s upstairs getting dressed. He’ll be down in a minute.” She started to leave, then apparently thought better of it. “Look,” she said to Danny, angry tears in her eyes, “this thing with the Baring woman has really taken it out of him, okay? He’s not himself. Ever since he got involved with this stupid documentary, he’s changed, but when he met Lisa Baring, it went to a whole new level. He’s already lost his marriage, his home and now his heart. I honestly don’t think he can take any more.”