The little girl’s navy-blue tights with white horses slipped off with a crackling of static electricity. Her legs were white like mother-of-pearl, which made the three bruises below her right knee stand out more. Why hadn’t he brought something to cover them up with?

Her dress, also with a horse motif, he cut off. Same thing with her panties. One snip on one side, one on the other and they were gone with a little tug.

Apart from the bruises, the sight before him was the most beautiful he’d ever seen, and it made his desire grow so strong he felt certain it had never been stronger. He wanted to be inside her, and he wanted it now. Immediately.

But that was bad. He knew it would be bad and too quick if he didn’t check himself. Instead, he took it in his hand and started pulling back and forth. First with calm, careful movements. But the sight of her soft ivory skin made him go faster and harder and in the end, he couldn’t hold it back.

Catching his breath, he could feel it soften as the blood left it, swollen and half-erect after the rough treatment. He looked out of the grimy window and noted the arrival of another flashing car as the police officers fanned out in different directions.

He cut out a piece of fabric with the pruning shears and used it as a rag to wipe her clean. Then he opened her mouth and counted five moist breaths before he balled up the rag, pushed it in and covered the whole thing with two large strips of tape.

The girl switched to breathing just as calmly through her nose, without any reaction. Had he really hit her so hard she was in some kind of coma? It had its advantages, but it reminded him too much of death, and he didn’t like death. Not at all, as a matter of fact.

He picked up her right arm and pulled it to turn her lifeless body 180 degrees, which made her head brush against him. Then he rolled her on to her stomach and pulled on both arms until her head dangled free over the edge of the table.

Then he picked up the bowl with the lavender scented water and eased it down and in underneath her head. He held it with both hands to avoid spilling, knelt down and raised it until her whole face was under water.

Please, don’t let her be in a coma. If she was, he’d have to hurry before she turned cold and stiff. Because he’d heard about that. Dead people went all cold and stiff; he didn’t like that at all.

Then she finally coughed and came to with a violent jerk. He could see the muscles between her shoulder blades tense up like springs as she pulled her head out of the water and looked at him.