‘The friendly one?’
‘Yes.’
‘The one who always smiles and says hello and helps you out?’
‘Yes.’ I sighed. ‘Unfortunately there’s nothing in the rule book that says murderers have to look evil and act like bastards. The worst ones are kind, thoughtful and everyone’s friend.’
Lukas swore again.
‘I need you to do this, Lukas. Make everyone think I killed Stubman until I’ve brought Max down. It’s the best way to ensure he doesn’t escape.’
‘You’re already the main suspect in one murder, Emma. If the police think you killed Stubman, they won’t stop until they get you. They won’t hesitate to shoot you and the baby—’
‘I had a vision about this. Don’t worry.’
‘You saw this future?’
‘Yep.’
‘It’s going to turn out okay?’
I grimaced. ‘Mmmm.’ Time to end this call. ‘I have to concentrate on driving. I’ll talk to you again soon.’
This time, I threw the phone out of Tallulah’s window; I wouldn’t be needing it again. A moment later, I put my foot down on the accelerator.
* * *
Stubman had givenme Max’s address. He didn’t live in a block of flats close to supernatural action, far from it. Max now resided in a tidy two-up, two-down in the quiet London suburb of Hillingdon. Perhaps he’d felt the need to distance himself from his actions as much as possible, only using his job and Stubman to keep an eye on things in case his name ever came up. He was a canny bastard – and far more conniving than I ever could have imagined.
Judging by the lights on at his house and the shadows moving around behind the curtains, he was also wide awake, even though he was a day worker and it was now almost two o’clock in the morning. He was waiting to hear if his plans for Stubman had worked. I was sure of it.
I circled around the block and examined both the front of Max’s house and the shrouded rear, which included a small fenced-off garden. I debated sneaking in from the back and taking him by surprise, but I already knew what was going to happen. I’d seen it in my vision. Besides, I wasn’t the criminal here and there were smarter ways to confront him. I had a plan – of sorts. I’d just have to pray it worked and I didn’t end up with my brains splattered against a beige suburban wall.
I started down the narrow garden path leading to Max’s front door. I’d barely taken two steps when the security light from the neighbouring house flashed on and I sensed movement to my left. I froze and turned, immediately spotting the two shining yellow eyes fixed on me. A fox.
I expelled a rush of breath from my lungs. I’d seen those eyes in my Cassandra vision and I knew what would happen next. This was where everything ended; strangely, the thought spurred me on instead of holding me back.
The fox remained stock-still for another second before twisting around, jumping over the low hedge to the rear and disappearing into the night. I doffed an imaginary cap in its direction, then I strode the final few metres to Max’s door and rang the bell.
Unsurprisingly, it took him a long time to answer; after all, it was the wee hours of the morning. As I saw the curtains in the window twitch and heard footsteps approach, I rearranged my face into what I hoped was an appropriate expression. A moment later, the lock was unlatched and the door opened an inch. Max’s tense face peered out.
‘Max!’ I exclaimed. ‘I’m so relieved you’re awake! I didn’t want to disturb you but I didn’t know where else to go. I know it’s late but I desperately need to talk to you.’
Some of his tension seemed to ease. He opened the door wider and blinked at me. ‘Detective! What on earth are you doing here?’
I waved my hands helplessly. ‘It’s a long story but it’s to do with your colleague, Stubman. It’s imperative that I find him as quickly as possible.’ I watched his face, waiting to see if his expression would betray him but there wasn’t a single flicker to reveal his guilt. He’d been playing a role for far too long and he was far too skilful at it.
‘Alistair?’ He clapped his hands to his face in a display of concern. ‘My goodness. Is he in danger?’
Yeah, he was good. ‘Possibly,’ I said, hoping my ability matched his. ‘But others might be in danger from him.’
Max stepped back. ‘You’d better come in.’
I pressed my palms together in gratitude. ‘Thank you, Max. Thank you so much.’
Without a single backward glance, I entered the lion’s well-disguised den.
The interior smelled homely and pleasant, with a faint floral scent that was fresh without being overpowering. As I followed Max through the warm hallway and into his living room, taking in the clean and tidy décor, doubts crept in. I gazed at the painting on the wall of a bucolic country scene. Maybe he was nothing more than a nice, ordinary bloke who lived in a nice, ordinary house. Maybe Max wasn’t the killer I was looking for.
