‘You believe you’ve suffered as a result of psychological experiments,’ he said, confident now. ‘Something happened to make your life different from other people’s lives, and you blame the psychologists. You see them as vivisectionists of the mind. That’s it, Geronimo, isn’t it?’ He knew at some instinctive level that he’d conjured up the visceral motivation behind this series of killings.

Now he was ready to begin thinking about drafting his profile. But the hour was late, and he knew it would be better left for morning. Reluctantly, he turned off his machine and unzipped his travel bag. He doubted he’d get much sleep, but at least he could go through the motions. And tomorrow not only would he have the chance to do what he did best, he’d see Carol again. The thought made him smile. For once, he was convinced the positive elements of their relationship were starting to outweigh the bitter memories of the past. He might be kidding himself about that, but at least he was willing to put the theory to the test.

Chapter 22

22

The second act seemed to last forever. Carol couldn’t concentrate on the music; all her mind was capable of was rerunning their conversation and finding fault with what she’d said and how she’d said it. She wished she’d had the chance to role-play the scenario with Tony in advance. At least then she’d have felt more confident that she was pushing the right buttons. It wasn’t that she’d expected instant capitulation from Radecki. But she had hoped for something more than his obstinate refusal to acknowledge that he had any idea what she was talking about.

She was aware too of his eyes on her. His seat was set slightly further back than hers, and out of the corner of her peripheral vision, she could sense him studying her for long periods. She couldn’t catch his expression, which made her feel exposed and edgy. What was he thinking? What effect was she having on him?

Carol stifled a sigh of relief as the second act reached its climax with the wedding of the vixen and her mate. No echoes there, she thought thankfully. Before the house lights could come up, she saw Tadeusz rise from his chair and move to the back wall. She turned to catch him reaching inside the pocket of the overcoat hanging on a hook by the door. His hand came out holding a mobile phone. ‘I have some calls to make,’ he said loudly, so his voice would carry over the applause. ‘I will be back shortly.’