Little Boy Blue

65

The SOCOs had already lowered the body to the ground and removed his clothing for further analysis. The victim now lay on the floor, naked save for a sterile sheet. It wasn’t much dignity, but it was the best that they could do in the circumstances.

Crouching down, Helen used the tip of her pen to lift a corner of the sheet. She knew what to expect, but still it was horrific to behold. In life, Paine had been a handsome man, but now his face was waxy and mottled – numerous burst blood vessels giving his expression an unpleasant patchwork quality. He looked like he had exploded from within.

Helen shuddered silently. She had disliked – no, she had despised – Max Paine. He was a violent misogynist who took pleasure in bullying and degrading women. She had used his services a couple of times and had had cause to regret her decision, only escaping a dangerous situation by fighting her way out of his clutches. But still she wouldn’t have wished this on him. This didn’t seem like a similar situation, this wasn’t a question of Paine overstepping the mark. This was a well-organized and premeditated attack on his life. This was an execution.

What connected Jake Elder and Max Paine? They were two very different characters who’d chosen the same profession. Helen knew both of them – one intimately, one in passing. Was that important? If so, it was hard to see why. Max Paine was hardly a friend of hers and as far as she was aware the rest of the world wouldn’t miss him either. So what was the point of his death? Were he and Jake chosen specifically or had they just hooked up with the wrong client? It seemed increasingly likely that their attacker was from the BDSM community, but the motive was still unclear.

Dropping the sheet, Helen stood up. She would not mourn Paine, but his death was still distressing and alarming. If the two victims were connected, then Helen was the obvious link. But if they weren’t, the outlook was even worse. Helen and her team had put so much work in trying to link their killer directly to Jake Elder, but maybe they had been barking up the wrong tree? Perhaps it was the act of murder, not the identity of the victim, which was driving the killer here.

If so, then there was no telling when he might stop. Killing was like a drug – the appetite becoming sharper and more urgent with each successive act. If their killer was getting off on his total control over his victims – and his seeming ability to strike without attracting attention – then what would possibly induce him to stop? Helen had a nasty feeling that he was just hitting his stride.

Having exchanged a few words with Meredith, Helen headed through the front door. Introspection and fear would get her nowhere. Their perpetrator had just raised the stakes significantly and she had to respond. It was time to summon what resolve she could if she was to stop him from killing again.