come to investigate.’
‘You’ve been watching too many movies, Kotlas. We don’t have a prayer of that working.’
‘Oh, ye of little faith,’ the young psychiatrist said. ‘I didn’t tell you, but if need be, I can handle myself.’
The guard grabbed his bicep and squeezed, surprised at the firmness of the muscle. ‘You’ll need more than experience of pumping iron to deal with those animals. You’re like a poodle going in with a pitbull. That’s what catches people off-guard: the craziness. Murderers like them don’t think twice about going for the kill. By the time you’ve realized that, you’re dead.’
‘Tell me about it,’ Kotlas said. ‘I’ve seen a few make that mistake.’
‘So you’ve worked with people like these before? Where have you come from?’
‘Ashmore.’
‘Christ,’ Edwards said, ‘that is a rough place.’
You do realise that we’re damned whatever we do.’
‘I know,’ Edwards said, ‘but I’ve made up my mind.’
‘So have I.’ Kotlas was grim-faced. ‘Couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least try.’
A heart-rending scream, muted, unmistakably female, pierced the silence. The men looked at each other in dismay and then rushed down the stairs.
Chapter 14
Copse Hall. 9:46 a.m.
Crazed laughter reaching fever pitch, spurred the two men on towards the door at the foot of the stairs, a portal into a world of insanity.
A look of consternation appeared on Kotlas’ face. ‘Why has she stopped screaming?’
‘Fleur,’ Edwards said, ‘her name is Fleur.’ His hands trembling, haste, not fear caused Edwards to miss the keyhole. One hand steadying the other, he guided the key home and opened the first air-locked door, and secured it after they’d stepped into the space between.
‘I know you could point them out to me, but I want to do it this way. As soon as we go through, I’ll say Vanner’s name,’ Kotlas said, dry-mouthed. ‘Then, I’ll know which one he is. Fisher, if he still has the screwdriver, will be obvious.’
‘As soon as we go in, I’m busting heads,’ the guard said, his eyes scanned the monitor out of habit, despite it being blank. He drew his baton, and pressing close to the vision panel, checked that no inmates were lurking immediately on the other side. The key slid home. He twisted it and took a deep breath. ‘Remember, don’t give them a chance. Fight dirty.’ His fingers wrapped around the door handle.
Kotlas grabbed his wrist. ‘We agreed I’m going in first. You open it, but fall in behind me.’
‘Are you fucking mad?’ Edwards said, glaring, surprised at the strength of the smaller man’s grip. ‘Didn’t you hear what I said just now? What do you think you’re going to do? Talk them out of it? They’ll tear you apart—’
Calm and self-assured, the psychiatrist returned his gaze. ‘No time to explain. Give me a few seconds before you go wading in. Do I have your agreement?’
‘If it was just your funeral, I wouldn’t care. Now, take your hand off me.’
‘Your way is suicide. You said it yourself.’
‘At least I’ll go down fighting.’
The younger man didn’t waver. His confidence and resolve unmistakable, he convinced Edwards, who looked down at the hand restraining his wrist. ‘All right. Let’s try it your way.’
Kotlas released him.
‘You ready?’ the guard said, turning the handle. The heavy-duty lock drew back with an ominous clunk.
Kotlas stepped through the open door.
Naked, spread-eagled on top of a table-tennis table, her limbs tied to its legs, the Frenchwoman lay motionless, either dead or passed out. Like doctors in conference around an operating table, four inmates in varying stages of undress, two of them barefoot, were too busy molesting her to notice the intrusion. Fisher – trouserless, crazed, his tongue protruding – withdrew a long, flat-headed screwdriver from her body. Fluid, predominantly blood, smeared its otherwise shiny
‘You’ve been watching too many movies, Kotlas. We don’t have a prayer of that working.’
‘Oh, ye of little faith,’ the young psychiatrist said. ‘I didn’t tell you, but if need be, I can handle myself.’
The guard grabbed his bicep and squeezed, surprised at the firmness of the muscle. ‘You’ll need more than experience of pumping iron to deal with those animals. You’re like a poodle going in with a pitbull. That’s what catches people off-guard: the craziness. Murderers like them don’t think twice about going for the kill. By the time you’ve realized that, you’re dead.’
‘Tell me about it,’ Kotlas said. ‘I’ve seen a few make that mistake.’
‘So you’ve worked with people like these before? Where have you come from?’
‘Ashmore.’
‘Christ,’ Edwards said, ‘that is a rough place.’
You do realise that we’re damned whatever we do.’
‘I know,’ Edwards said, ‘but I’ve made up my mind.’
‘So have I.’ Kotlas was grim-faced. ‘Couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t at least try.’
A heart-rending scream, muted, unmistakably female, pierced the silence. The men looked at each other in dismay and then rushed down the stairs.
Chapter 14
Copse Hall. 9:46 a.m.
Crazed laughter reaching fever pitch, spurred the two men on towards the door at the foot of the stairs, a portal into a world of insanity.
A look of consternation appeared on Kotlas’ face. ‘Why has she stopped screaming?’
‘Fleur,’ Edwards said, ‘her name is Fleur.’ His hands trembling, haste, not fear caused Edwards to miss the keyhole. One hand steadying the other, he guided the key home and opened the first air-locked door, and secured it after they’d stepped into the space between.
‘I know you could point them out to me, but I want to do it this way. As soon as we go through, I’ll say Vanner’s name,’ Kotlas said, dry-mouthed. ‘Then, I’ll know which one he is. Fisher, if he still has the screwdriver, will be obvious.’
‘As soon as we go in, I’m busting heads,’ the guard said, his eyes scanned the monitor out of habit, despite it being blank. He drew his baton, and pressing close to the vision panel, checked that no inmates were lurking immediately on the other side. The key slid home. He twisted it and took a deep breath. ‘Remember, don’t give them a chance. Fight dirty.’ His fingers wrapped around the door handle.
Kotlas grabbed his wrist. ‘We agreed I’m going in first. You open it, but fall in behind me.’
‘Are you fucking mad?’ Edwards said, glaring, surprised at the strength of the smaller man’s grip. ‘Didn’t you hear what I said just now? What do you think you’re going to do? Talk them out of it? They’ll tear you apart—’
Calm and self-assured, the psychiatrist returned his gaze. ‘No time to explain. Give me a few seconds before you go wading in. Do I have your agreement?’
‘If it was just your funeral, I wouldn’t care. Now, take your hand off me.’
‘Your way is suicide. You said it yourself.’
‘At least I’ll go down fighting.’
The younger man didn’t waver. His confidence and resolve unmistakable, he convinced Edwards, who looked down at the hand restraining his wrist. ‘All right. Let’s try it your way.’
Kotlas released him.
‘You ready?’ the guard said, turning the handle. The heavy-duty lock drew back with an ominous clunk.
Kotlas stepped through the open door.
Naked, spread-eagled on top of a table-tennis table, her limbs tied to its legs, the Frenchwoman lay motionless, either dead or passed out. Like doctors in conference around an operating table, four inmates in varying stages of undress, two of them barefoot, were too busy molesting her to notice the intrusion. Fisher – trouserless, crazed, his tongue protruding – withdrew a long, flat-headed screwdriver from her body. Fluid, predominantly blood, smeared its otherwise shiny
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