Prologue
The fact the package came by courier was nothing out of the ordinary, but my stomach churned when I saw the solicitor's name and address on the back.
My heart beat a crazy rhythm as I opened the brief letter accompanying Carla's book, and then it sank as I read the note:
Dear Mr Mailer
We understand you were party to an agreement with our client, Ms Carla Black, to publish her work in your newspaper if she failed to appear in person at our offices by a designated date. In accordance with her wishes, we hereby enclose a copy of her book ...
I stopped reading. My mind drifted back to the last time I'd seen her. We'd met for dinner in an expensive restaurant. She hardly ate anything while she outlined her plans.
'I've written a book, and I've done it with the sole intention of baiting a serial killer into coming after me.'
'OK ...' I said, 'but why would you want to do that?'
'Because if I can get him to come after me to England and then get him arrested, it'll be a big story.'
'Sounds dangerous. Does this killer have a name?'
She laughed. 'Of course. It's William Boyle. Do you remember that manhunt a few months ago? Well, I'm pretty sure I know where he is, and I have it on good authority that he's calling himself by his old Foreign Legion name, William Boule.'
'I remember that story. We ran it for a few days until our sources dried up. How did you find out about his Legion name?'
She tapped her nose with a well-manicured forefinger. 'I can't tell you exactly, but let's just say I tracked someone down who confided in me.'
I nodded. 'So he's somewhere out of the country, you've already said as much, but what makes you think he'll come after you?'
'I've had a limited run of books printed, with an artist's impression of what he looks like on the front cover. Posters too. I'm going to go and put them up in the town I think he's holed up in. If he's there and he sees the book's for sale, he'll buy a copy. If he does, if he reads what I've said about him, from what I've learned, it'll send him into a rage and he'll come for sure.'
I shook my head. 'You should go to the police, Carla.'
She arched an eyebrow, looking faintly amused. 'And ruin my story? I think not.'
'You won't have a story if he gets to you.'
'He won't, not if it all goes to plan.'
'Why are you telling me all this, Carla?'
'I want you to promise to run a serialization of the story, come what may.'
'I can't do that. I haven't seen it yet.'
She smiled seductively. 'I think you can. This is what I propose: If I don't show up at my solicitors by, say, the end of the month, they'll send you a copy of the book. All the necessary documentation has been drawn up – all you have to do is sign. You're really going to have to trust me on this,' she said, picking up her fork. She twisted it into her food, and then laid it down again. 'Well, what do you think?'
'It's too dangerous, that's what I think.'
'But David, what a story it'll be ... and besides, I'll be in and out of there in no time, and well gone by the time he buys the book. I'm sure I don't have to tell you that I'm trusting you not to tell anyone what I've told you. I leave for Essaouira in Morocco the day after tomorrow.'
