按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
fts round the clock。 The pressure's really on and there's an undercurrent of latent hysteria throughout the city。'
'Ever thought there might be a link between the two？'
'You mean the killings and the fascists？'
'It's an idea。'
'Sure； but with eight or ten different right wing splinter groups who are constantly decrying one another it's hardly the makings of a future coalition nazi regime。'
'Unless that's a load of bullshit； propaganda put about to blind everybody to the real truth until it's too late；' Sabat smiled whimsically。 'Hitler's new army on the march。'
'You found something out？' McKay's neck craned forward； his eyes searching for the faintest sign that Sabat could be holding back on something。
'Just a hunch； a gamble that's paid off more than once。 But； as I was saying； Clive； don't let me mislead you； I could be entirely wrong。'
The CID man stood up。 Til bear that in mind。 Thanks for the tip。' Then he was gone； knowing full well that Sabat was on to something； that he'd reveal his findings when it suited him and not before。 And right now Scotland Yard could use any information。
Once he was alone Sabat attempted to phone Ilona； listened to the telephone ringing at the other end； hung on for several minutes before he replaced his receiver； a puzzled expression on his face。 Ilona had not said she was going away and in any case the other two girls； Jackie and Emma were there。 An old familiar feeling began to creep over him； certainty that something was wrong； a premonition that spread a rash of goose pimples。
And somewhere inside him Quentin was laughing； a sound that sent a chill up Sabat's spine because his brother was seldom wrong over such matters。
Sabat went out to his car； eased the Daimler out of the quiet backwater and into the How of London traffic。 Only with a supreme effort did he control his frustration；； the urge to blare his horn； to shout and curse the lines of lumbering traffic which came to a halt every few yards。
Maybe he was wrong after all； and Ilona and her girls had gone into town on a shopping spree。 According to Quentin they hadn't and that was enough to twist Sabat's stomach muscles into knots。 Quentin's soul was his own in…built warning system。
A longer delay this time； the road was up and the automatic traffic controls appeared to have jammed in favour of the oning flow。 Two men in orange jackets were fiddling with the lights but in the end they had to resort to manual direction of the build…up of cars； vans and several articulated lorries。 It was twenty minutes before Sabat was clear of the obstruction。
The Daimler seemed to pick up its driver's mood of frustration； the usually smooth engine sluggish and missing on more than one occasion。 It was because Sabat was an excellent and sensitive driver； being part of the car once he was behind the wheel。
The last stretch of the journey was the worst。 Lorries that did not seem to want to move； another hold…up because somebody had broken down and nobody bothered with traffic controls。 And Quentin still laughed。
Finally Sabat swung into the street where Ilona lived； the shock of what he saw causing him to swerve and almost hit a parked van。 Two police cars and a black van which could only be here for one purpose； all parked outside number sixty…six。 A uniformed constable was on duty by the door of Ilona's house。
Sabat double…parked； tried to shut out Quentin's mocking laughter as he got out of the car。 He didn't need telling what had happened； already he was blaming himself。 He should never have left her alone； moved her and the other girls to some place of safety； for these ghouls who murdered under the cover of darkness had undoubtedly discovered the house where one of their brethren had died。 In all probability a roaming 'vampire' had seen Sabat leave with the corpse； whatever； it was too late now。
'Well； well； Sabat； we meet again so soon。'
Sabat whirled round。 In those moments of awful realisation he had not heard the black Granada pull up behind him。 Detective Sergeant Clive McKay and another plain clothes officer were getting out of the car。
'What's going on here？ What the hell happened？' Sabat's face was grim； deathly white。
'You should know；' McKay's expression was one of scepticism； 'you got here before I did。'
'That hunch I told you about；' Sabat's irony was humourless。 'I just played it and I hoped to God I was wrong but as I told you my hunches seldom let me down。 Unfortunately；' he added。
'I got the call on the way back to the Yard。' McKay began to cross the road； beckoned Sabat to follow him。 'Now that you're here I guess you may as well take a look。'
Other vehicles were beginning to arrive； a small crowd gathering on the pavement outside number sixty…six。
'The fucking Press；' McKay muttered as the constable opened the door to admit the three newers； 'one gets the impression sometimes that their noses are trained to smell blood in the air。'
Or else they've had a tip…off by somebody wanting to make sure that this gets into the early editions； Sabat thought； killers who are relying on publicity。 But he kept his thoughts to himself。
There were some half a dozen detectives already inside； the interior of Ilona's house resembling a beehive； ings and goings； a buzz of low conversation。 Sabat stuck close to McKay； followed him down those familiar steps to the converted cellar。
'Jesus Christ！' McKay pursed his lips at the scene which greeted them。
Sabat took a deep breath； held it。 Every sensation torturous to the human nervous system came at him in a bined rush。 Revulsion； grief； but it was cold fury that had him trembling。 He had once seen a private showing of a documentary film； a visual factual anthology of the true horrors of the Nazi torture camps； Man's inhumanity to Man。 But even the Nazis' sadistic ingenuity had not stooped to this level。 Until now。
Ilona's corpse hung from the wall； a sagging pathetic thing that was barely recognisable； streaked with dried rivers of blood； the head lolling to one side to expose the gaping circular wound in the throat； a crust of crimson…brown encircling it。 Blood everywhere； some still sticky； you could smell it； feel it cloying your nostrils and lungs。 Sabat stared； saw those same marks on the thighs and arms； read what had happened in the same way that others read a book。 This had been a revenge killing； the victim condemned to a slow death； her life oozing away before the final death plunge by that hideous needle into her jugular vein。
Sabat's rage simmered as he followed the detectives up to the top storey； saw another scene of death and torture in a blood splashed bedroom； the sheets beneath the two bodies saturated through to the mattress。 Jackie and Emma； two attractive girls in their mid…twenties； just the one all too familiar puncture on their necks。 Nothing else； an apparently senseless killing unless you knew what was behind it。
And this will be your