‘The cause of death, however, was drowning. A tube of some sort had been forced into her throat and water poured down it. As with the other cases, I believe. But the really significant difference here is that Dr Calvet was raped vaginally before she was killed.’

‘Oh shit,’ Marijke breathed. ‘That’s bad. That’s very bad.’

‘I agree. Killing’s no longer enough for him.’

There had been little more to say. Marijke had promised to send Karpf a full report on the murder of Pieter de Groot, and he had assured her that all the relevant material from his case would be sent immediately via Europol. The one thing Marijke hadn’t shared was what she was going to do next. She opened up her e-mail program and began to compose a message. Escalation could change a profile dramatically. Dr Hill needed to know what she had learned as soon as possible. Marijke might not know much about serial killers, but she did know that when anyone as controlled as this killer appeared to be losing it, life could become very cheap indeed.

Chapter 27

27

The private room looked as if it had been modelled on a nineteenth-century hunting lodge. Wood panelling covered the walls, relieved only by heavy oils of rural landscapes. A stag’s head was mounted on one wall, a wild boar’s on another, the glass eyes glittering in the candlelight. A log fire blazed at the centre of an inglenook fireplace flanked by a pair of leather club chairs. In the middle of the room was a small circular table, blazing brilliant with crystal and silver and dazzling white napery But it was all an elegant fake.

A bit like me, Carol couldn’t help thinking. She hadn’t expected to see Tadeusz again so soon after her abrupt departure from his boat. But within an hour of her return to the apartment, she’d opened her door to a bouquet of flowers so large it completely obscured the delivery woman. The card read, I’m sorry. My manners are atrocious. I’ll call you soon – please don’t hang up. Tadzio.

The relief was physical. Her shoulders dropped and her back muscles unclenched. She hadn’t blown it after all. Luckily, the reaction she’d invented had proved to be the correct one to disarm him. When he called, he managed to be graciously apologetic without grovelling. And so she’d agreed to his dinner invitation. She’d have liked to have talked strategy with Tony, but he was out of reach. She’d have to make do with a late-night debrief.

To reach the private room, they’d taken a lift to the seventeenth floor of one of the modern skyscrapers in Potsdamer Platz and walked through the reception area of a modern restaurant. Crossing the threshold had been an entry into another world. Carol couldn’t help a bubble of laughter escaping her lips. ‘It’s absurd,’ she said.