The Alex King Series, A BATEMAN [good books for high schoolers .TXT] 📗

upright position made her feel unbalanced. She squinted at the light, the bare bulb dazzling her eyes, forcing her to blink. She tried to move her hands, but they were stuck. She squinted again, realised they were taped in front of her. Her arms were restrained too, at least three strands of silver-coloured duct tape was wrapped around her elbows securing them to her waist. She tried to force her arms out, twist her wrists, but they were simply too tight.

She couldn’t remember anything since the kitchen. Then she thought of Giorgi touching her, the look in his eye. The thought made her squirm on the chair. She had no idea if he had interfered with her. She tensed her thighs, her buttocks, didn’t feel any different down there. Prayed he hadn’t done more to her after the chloroform had kicked in. She thought about Amanda and her concern, if not callously for evidence of foul play not to show up on Caroline’s post-mortem. She realised the desperation of her situation, and her heart raced in response. She needed to calm herself. There was always hope.

She was in a bathroom. It was unfamiliar. Dirty. There was mildew set in the grout of the tiles and the tiles themselves were chipped and stained. She noticed a tide mark around the bath, but she wouldn’t have believed the owner of this property had used it in a while. The flooring was just plain wooden boards, but not sanded and prepared and the gripper around the edge indicated that a lino floor had been pulled up at some time or other and no further work had commenced.

She heard heavy footsteps and they grew louder rapidly. Giorgi entered carrying two large builder’s buckets with screw down lids. They were twice the size of the feed buckets Caroline had used on her uncle’s farm where she helped as a child during stays in school holidays. They had writing on them, but her eyes were too blurred to see, although she made out the word mortar. Giorgi dropped them down and they made a sloshing noise. He ignored her, walked past her and reached into the bath. Caroline had contemplated faking unconsciousness, but she had not been quick enough. Besides, Giorgi hadn’t so much as glanced in her direction when he entered.

“Wait!” Amanda snapped at him as she stepped into the room. “Gloves. Gloves at all times!”

“What are you doing?” Caroline asked weekly.

“Killing you,” Amanda replied coldly. She studied Caroline, smiled when she saw her reaction. “Gosh, your face! Oh, it’s a picture!”

“But you’re a pathologist,” Caroline said disbelievingly. “You trained in medicine. This isn’t you.”

“So?” Amanda stared at her. “I’ve been working in pathology and forensics for almost ten years. I work with corpses all day long. My work solves murders. That makes me the perfect murderer. I have the highest insight into not only how to kill most effectively, but how to avoid tell-tale signatures and traces of evidence. And I don’t have a problem with killing you. There is too much standing in the way to keep you alive. You think I care what happens to you? If I did, I wouldn’t have slept with your boyfriend.”

“You didn’t,” Caroline said emphatically. “He has taste.”

Amanda smiled. “Would you like the details? Your pretty little Union Jack cushions in the lounge; tastefully faded, or stone-washed, of course. Very retro. The barbeque area. Who the hell barbeques on a cold evening in April? Oh, and that captain’s trunk at the foot of your bed. Nice and tidy for all your bed covers.”

“So?” Caroline did her best to shrug. “You’re describing the inside of our cottage, not the man you say you slept with. I know you two had dinner together, you’re not telling me anything I don’t already know.”

“Whatever.”

“Go on then,” Caroline sneered back at her. “Hairy chest or smooth? Six-pack or not? He has a scar. Where is it? Come to think of it, he has a lot of scars.”

Amanda looked at her contemptuously. “You’re going to die, and you want to spend your last moments testing me? You have bigger problems, believe me. I suggest you think about something else. Take some time to reflect.”

Caroline stared at her belligerently. She was damned if she’d do anything this woman told her. “Alex has a small scar on his side. Which side?”

Amanda scowled. “His left! What do you want? I was fucking him, I didn’t notice a scar!”

Caroline laughed. “Oh, you poor little girl. How tragic you really are! Alex was shot last year, and he bled internally. A lot. They had to open him up like an umbrella! It looks like Jaws took a bite and decided he tasted like shit and spat him back out!” She shook her head. “You’re a sick little bitch! What could you possibly expect to gain from saying you’d slept with him? Just the chance to hurt someone emotionally? You’re pathetic.”

Amanda lunged forwards and slapped her across the cheek. Caroline reeled, but didn’t go anywhere. She was securely fastened to the chair and there was little give. Amanda grabbed her around the throat. For the first time, Caroline noticed she was wearing surgical gloves, and her heart started to race faster. Whatever she was planning to do, she was planning to do it well. Amanda stared into her eyes, smiled when she saw the fear and uncertainty. She released her throat and pinched her cheek.

“I’d never killed before,” she said quietly. “Not before that morning. Kerchenko killed the dog. I was sad about that, but I suppose we couldn’t have had it barking all bloody day.” She let go of Caroline’s face, squatted down on her heels, but her eyes did not shift from Caroline’s own.

“The Jameson family? Why?”

“We had to cover for Helena and Viktor. They had performed the killings up to that point. But they couldn’t