Face of the Devil by N. J. Cooper

Author:N. J. Cooper [Cooper, N. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781849832878
Publisher: Simon and Schuster

Chapter 13

Day Six: Monday 8 a.m.

From the moment Will brought a breakfast tray into Karen’s room on Sunday morning, she knew he was determined to make the day work. He had cooked her favourite, eggs Benedict, and he neither cross-questioned her about what she’d been doing so that he could tell her how she should have done it better, which was one of his worst habits, nor nagged her for the commitment that was so hard for her to make.

When she carried a large cup of delicate Kenyan peaberry coffee to her desk on Monday morning, she was still warmed by the pleasure of being able to enjoy Will’s company without having to grit her teeth once. She sat, staring out across the Solent towards the Island and contemplating the possibility that her whole life could be like this if she said ‘yes’ to him. Tempted to phone him and do it now, she controlled herself. He would be operating, and this was not something to say to his voicemail.

Instead she tried to phone James Blazon on the landline number she’d found in one of the professional directories. It was unobtainable. Frowning in irritation, she opened her laptop, Googled him and found an email address. Hoping it was a current one, she quickly typed a message:

Hi, James. Would you have time to see me today?

She had no reason to suppose he kept his inbox open all day, but she assumed he’d be checking it pretty regularly at the moment. She would, if it had been her reputation at risk and one of her most vulnerable and dangerous patients was out of police custody and doing who-knew-what. While she waited, she sipped her coffee, enjoying every mouthful. The subtle fruity taste reminded her of the last time she’d seen Max, and it occurred to her that he might be able to help – if he would. His mind was one of the most incisive she’d met, and he had a wide web of contacts.

Max would definitely not be reading his emails every few minutes, but he did pick up his phone. She dialled his number.

‘Karen,’ he said. ‘What’s up now?’

‘I wanted to ask your advice.’

‘You know what it is. Settle your differences with Will, whatever the hell they are, and walk up the bloody aisle with him.’

‘Max!’ She felt as though she were shouting at a nagging student. ‘That’s not what I meant. It’s a case I’m working on. Have you ever known a previously non-violent schizophrenic suddenly lash out and kill?’

‘In my experience there have usually been prior incidents,’ he said, sounding more interested. ‘You know perfectly well that the clearest predictor of future violence is violence in the past. Animals in childhood, beetles, birds, cats, whatever. Then humans.’

‘So what could trigger a first kill without any of that? Apart from alcohol and drugs.’

‘Those are the two most obvious.’ Max’s gravelly voice was back to normal. ‘Apart from them, I can’t think of anything except a kind of random coincidence

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