Johnson was thrashing underneath him in a way Brandt found most pleasurable. With her breasts now released he leaned down to suck on her right nipple. He couldn’t resist biting it instead. She cried out in pain. Brandt sat up and raised his fist to punch her for breaking one of the ground rules but then shrugged. Fair enough, I suppose. He bent over again to kiss it better.
There was an almighty crash from downstairs. Simultaneously Johnson stopped wriggling and Brandt raised his head to stare at her in confusion.
‘Police, stop right there!’ commanded the voice from below.
Brandt spun off the bed with an agility that belied his advancing years. He reached over to the dresser, grabbed his knife and made for the stairs; almost tripping over her discarded clothes as he went.
Exiting the bedroom, he covered the short journey across the landing in two strides and rounded the top of the bannister. With a thump he collided with the intruder and, feeling his balance going, he instinctively tried to steady himself. With his left hand Brandt grabbed the side of the man’s jumper and, forgetting in his panic that he was armed, unwittingly drove the knife into his ribcage with his right.
For a few fleeting moments it appeared they had successfully stabilised but then the intruder fell backwards down the stairs; his grip taking Brandt with him.
He felt collision after collision slamming against different parts of his body as his spinning vision told him he was falling down the stairs with increased momentum. As he reached the bottom, his body continued to rotate, and his head smashed against the solid brick wall behind him. His brain didn’t have time to register a coherent thought before unconsciousness enveloped him.
Chapter Sixty-two
In the distance he could hear something. Faint, almost imperceptible, but certainly there. It was growing louder; still unidentifiable but definitely more noticeable. It was a scream; a woman’s scream.
McNeil opened his eyes as reality hit him. It only took a few moments of staring up at the unfamiliar hallway ceiling for everything to become clear. It was Johnson upstairs screaming, much louder and more frantic than the one he had heard outside. He attempted to call back to her; to tell her it was okay, and he was here, but as he pulled in a deep breath he started coughing. Blood was mixed in with his spittle and he reached towards the searing pain in his chest to find the hilt of a knife. McNeil didn’t remember being stabbed but he assumed it must have been done by the man lying slumped against the wall, blood pouring from the back of his skull.
He reached out to prop himself up but when he placed his left arm down it collapsed under him, having been broken in the fall. As his body involuntarily tried to make him cry out in pain, again there was that excruciating burning in his chest, followed by more blood being coughed up.
McNeil knew he had to get to Johnson, so he summoned up all his strength and managed, with just the use of his right arm, to get onto his knees. Blinking hard to try and clear his vision, he crawled to the first step and started his ascent.
She must have heard his shuffling because the screams had been replaced by anxious demands to know who it was. He would dearly have loved to call out to her that it was him; he had come to rescue her, but he didn’t dare risk another coughing fit unsteadying him and causing him to fall back down again.
As he reached the top of the stairs, following the direction of the voice from his crouched position, he could only see Johnson’s bare feet poking out the end of the bed. The awkward way they were flapping around caused him to see the ropes that held them. Concerned more than ever, he somehow managed to summon the strength required to get him standing and he staggered through to the bedroom, sliding along the wall to keep himself upright.
Horror filled him as he saw Johnson there, spread-eagled and naked except for her black knickers. Hearing her shouting his name brought him back to his senses. Without the wall of the landing there to prop him up, McNeil lurched alarmingly as he attempted to round the bed. Feeling his legs giving way he slumped down next to her.
‘My God, what happened to you?’ Johnson said, her voice now hoarse from all the screaming. ‘Call an ambulance!’
He used his right arm to pat the front of his trousers. He remembered slinging his mobile onto the passenger seat when he thought he was about to drive off.
‘No… phone…’ he croaked, desperately trying to resist the urge he felt to start coughing again.
‘Shit!’ she cursed. ‘Mine must be in my bag somewhere. Quick, help me undo these ropes.’
McNeil slowly lifted up his right arm and made a futile effort to untie the nearest knot one-handed. ‘No… arm…’ he spluttered, nodding towards his left shoulder.
‘If only I could just get one hand free…’ Johnson said, their gaze locking. They looked at each other for a long moment. Her eyes opened in abject panic: ‘No!’ she shouted, thrashing with all her strength.
McNeil couldn’t risk any more words. He just smiled and nodded at her.
He could feel his coordination going but managed to find the hilt after a few moments patting around. Johnson was now pleading with him; begging him not to do it. He tuned her out.
The sound the knife made as he pulled it from his chest; a mixture of squelching and sucking, was hideous. McNeil dared not look but was sure he could feel the blood pouring down his front. He held the blade aloft and realised that she had stopped shouting and was now just staring at him. With his vision closing in, he regretted he didn’t have the strength to free her himself. Rousing himself one last time he reached across and blindly found Johnson’s wrist. He felt her take the knife, only to return a moment later to wrap her hand tightly around his. Satisfied he had done all he could, he rested his head on the mattress; his now sightless eyes pointing towards her face.
McNeil smiled as he took his last breath.
HIDE AND SEEK – Book 2 in the trilogy
Police are closing in on a notorious serial killer, but they are walking into a trap…
Ex-detective superintendent Brandt has turned against society. The first kill was a stab in the dark, but now he’s got a real taste for it.
But his pursuer, DCI Stella Johnson, has rankled him. She has leaked to the press the idea he is impotent, and it has taken hold.
Brandt wants to prove himself. Who better a victim than the woman who has embarrassed him?
Johnson’s strategy backfires and she is in trouble with her superiors. Yet she now has a very personal reason to hunt down Brandt.
But will going solo put her at even greater risk than before? And just what has he in mind for her?
Available on Kindle, and FREE with Kindle Unlimited:
http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07MTK71ZD
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B07MTK71ZD
SMOKE AND MIRRORS – Book 3 in the trilogy
Has ex-DSI Brandt become the perfect killer, or will he be a victim of his own success?
Retired policeman Brandt has gone underground. He is even living something like a normal life.
He killed to make society stand up and take notice. It did. His crimes are notorious. So infamous, in fact, that someone wants to emulate him.
How will Brandt react to a copycat killer? Will he be flattered, or disturbed that someone wants to steal his limelight?
Crucially, for investigating officer DSI Stella Johnson, the new spate of murders might offer an opportunity to finally bring Brandt to justice.
Can she stop the new killer in his tracks? And can she catch her nemesis?
Find out in the gripping final instalment of this unputdownable trilogy.
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Denver Murphy, ONE STEP AHEAD: detectives hunt a serial killer who knows all their moves (The DCI Jeffrey Brandt Murders Trilogy Book 1)
ONE STEP AHEAD: detectives hunt a serial killer who knows all their moves (The DCI Jeffrey Brandt Murders Trilogy Book 1) Page 22
