Red Widow (Vivian Xu, Book 1) (11 page)

“
An acute subdural hematoma
is present in the left temporal lobe, where blood coagulated below
the dura mater and above the arachnoid membrane. The coagulum was
compressing the left cerebral hemisphere. Tearing and widespread
hemorrhaging was also noted in the corpus callosum.”

Nikolai remembered watching her shave
Krista’s head in search of other bruises left by her assailant. It
struck him as surreal watching the glamorous tangles of blonde hair
fall to the floor, drenched in blood like a hair dying appointment
gone disastrously awry. She had sewn the skull shut after
extracting the brain and dumping it in a bucket of formaldehyde
solution. After a week of preservation, Jezebel would mount the
tissue slices on slides and scan the cells for signs of drug
abuse.

“
Estimated time of
death?”

“
Within the last
twenty-four hours. A histological analysis of the hematoma will
tell me exactly when she was attacked.”

Jezebel clipped another film revealing
a pelvis invaded with hooks.

“
Under most circumstances,
tearing in the vaginal wall would suggest forced intercourse, but I
find that scenario unlikely. Vaginal swabs didn’t reveal any
presence of semen. The genital trauma was induced by microfilament
wires and hooks.”

“
Were there any other
fractures besides the skull?” Nikolai asked, in no mood to dwell on
the sexual aspects.

“
No. He seems quite adept
at subduing his victims.” Indeed he was. He must have ambushed
Krista from behind and stunned her with a blunt object, at which
point she became an unwilling participant in his torture
escapade.

“
May I ask you a question,
Nikolai?” Jezebel chirped, jolting him from his
thoughts.

“
Yes?”

“
What did you see when you
arrived at the crime scene?” The absurdity of the question evoked a
scoff from Nikolai.

“
I saw a terrified girl
barely old enough to live on her own, hanging from the ceiling by
butcher hooks. I saw premeditation, sadism, and a level of cruelty
that defies human conscience.”

Jezebel’s lips curved into a supremely
wicked smile.

“
Always stating the
obvious. I thought you might miss it.” She paced across the morgue
with cat-like grace, savoring hidden knowledge. “The killer
positioned the victim like a cross, possibly symbolic of punishing
her for her sins.”

“
What sins?”

“
Only the killer knows.”
Silence festered in the autopsy room. Nikolai dipped his gaze
toward the body and studied her ghostly expression.
What horrible secrets lie behind that face?
he wondered.
What did you
do to deserve this?

“
See if you can find any
fingerprints or fibers…” he murmured.

“
Before you leave, I
uncovered something else at the crime scene.”

“
What?”

“
The message ‘You cannot
hurt me anymore.’ It doesn’t match the blood of the victim.” The
implications silenced Nikolai. Was the killer keeping another
victim alive? But for what purpose?

He had a sickening feeling he would
find out soon enough.

* * *

Vivian clutched the balcony rail and
squeezed her eyes shut. The image flashed into her mind like an
ebbing and flowing tide.

She could picture a gigantic spider
cocooning a woman in its twisted fantasy, rigging the hooks just so
on pipes, tenderly sliding the twine on the fixing
points.

Like a puppet he could
control.

Perhaps he was manipulating the
police, too, demonstrating his absolute control over their feeble
attempts to rein in his homicidal rampage.

“
This has to be a dream.
I’m not Red Widow,” she chanted, trying once again to deny her
fate. She quickly swallowed that sense of self-defeat, refusing to
label herself a victim of unfortunate circumstances. She would
never resign herself to this shadow of an existence, always
teetering on the verge of self-doubt and waiting for life to unfold
as planned. She would overcome this predicament one way or another
and seize the future she deserved. In so many ways, the future felt
like a defunct machine, trapping her in an endless cycle of
discontent and whimsical fantasies.

“
I refuse to be a slave to
time for another second,” she said. “Tomorrow, I’ll do what Nikolai
asks of me and possibly the day after that, but he’s mistaken if he
thinks I’ll remain his pet informant forever. I’ll see this mess
through to the end and then I’m cutting my ties to him. My future
can’t wait any longer. It’s time to reclaim everything I
lost.”

She smiled as if she had regained some
control of her life. The city lights winked mischievously back at
her.

Just as she was about to retire to
bed, she spied a window propped ajar below. When had she opened it?
She would never open a window on so cold a night. Her heart began
to scream with panic. More than likely, a fierce gust wrenched it
open.

Slender hands poked out of the window
below and slowly closed it.

Vivian reeled away from the balcony,
feeling her pulse pound through her quivering fingers.

Someone is in the house
with me.
She lunged for her phone, ready to
punch Nikolai’s number.

“
Where the fuck did I drop
it?!” she roared.

She spun toward her bed, flinging
aside newspapers, journals, and books. The bottle of wine cascaded
to the floor, pouring forth its spiced contents.

“
Downstairs,” she breathed.
“I left it on the table downstairs.” She lurched to a stop at the
door. The gun Nikolai gave her lay waiting on the nightstand.
Without a thought, she grabbed it. She had never fired a gun
before, and the steel felt wet and clammy in her palms. What if it
wasn’t loaded? She didn’t know what an empty gun felt like compared
to one stuffed with a fresh clip.

Perhaps this intruder was no more than
a vagrant searching for a place to hole up for the night. It
couldn’t possibly be the killer who stitched up Krista.
Nevertheless, she timidly tiptoed down the stairs, spiraling down
to the lower level.

She dashed to the table, where she
vaguely remembered discarding her phone.

Her heart stalled several beats when
she saw it was no longer there. In its place was a scrap of
notebook paper.

Follow me.

“
What the hell is this?”
she demanded. “Some kind of sick joke?” Her head jutted to the left
as something seized her attention. A candle beamed at her from the
dining room, licking at coarse shadows. With a quick glance at the
windows rusted shut, she followed the light. The moment she reached
the candle, another flaming candle hissed to life further down the
hall. Her entire body bristled with anticipation. Whoever entered
Vesely Manor was luring her away from the bedroom, beyond the
comfort of the estate.

“
Where are you?” she
demanded. The raw caress of the wind answered her.

The door to the Sea of Fire had been
propped open, goading Vivian to set foot in the unforgiving
wilderness. Not one to shy away in the face of a challenge, she
stalked through the door. The lake burbled passionately in the
uncharacteristic heat of the night. She scanned the bank, expecting
someone to rear up from the darkness and drag her toward the
waters.

The gnarled trees were iced with the
last tinge of sunset, dwindling down to the kiss of
night.

A silhouette lingered on the bridge,
bearing a candle in its hand. The figure had unwittingly turned its
back on her.

Second
mistake
, Vivian thought. The first dire
mistake was intruding on the manor. Slowly but deliberately, she
tiptoed across the ashen sand. She fingered the trigger of her gun,
feeling the weight press smoothly into her skin. She had the upper
hand now on this unsuspecting fool.

“
You look very beautiful,”
a female voice whispered. She froze. The voice was so gentle it
rolled over her like a feather in the breeze. The candle
illuminated the speaker’s soft features, revealing a woman only a
few years older than Vivian. Untamed, chestnut hair flowed down her
back in a ponytail. She was modestly dressed in a scarlet blouse
and a sleek black skirt that rustled against her contours. A scarf
curled around her shoulders in a slash of crimson that cut through
the night.

Her emerald eyes plunged deep into
hers.

“
You were watching me last
night,” Vivian said once her tongue regained its function. “Who are
you?”

“
Camilla. And you? What are
you doing in my family’s manor, Vivian?” For a moment, neither of
them spoke. Vivian scanned her face, trying to match it with a
name. Could she have attended class with her in college? She didn’t
strike her as one of her previous clients either. She would
remember an exotic face like hers. Vivian’s phone chimed like
musical dice and she slapped at her pockets. At once, she realized
it was ringing in Camilla’s hand.

“
It’s for you.” She flicked
her wrist and Vivian barely caught her phone before it could smash
against the bridge. She fumbled with it and pressed it to her
cheek.

“
Hello?”

“
Vivian, where are you?”
Nikolai demanded. “I’ve been trying to reach you for
hours.”

“…
I’m at the
manor.”

“
I’m just checking in to
make sure everything is okay. You were pretty shaken up at
Grigorshire.”

“
Yeah, well, you can
imagine why.”

“
Hopefully this is the last
dead body you see for a while. I can’t say the same about myself,
considering my sordid profession. Now what do you plan to do
next?”

“
I guess I have no choice
but to return to the outskirts—”

Vivian didn’t continue that thought.
She noticed the woman watching her closely, trying to pick up the
expression on her face. Did she know what morbid business they were
discussing? She was staring intently at the phone, captivated by
some detail.

She couldn’t hear Nikolai, could
she?

“
Is everything all
right?”

“
Yes, sorry, Nikolai. Can I
call you back later?”

“
Fine. I’m turning in for
the night. We’ll keep in touch.”

Vivian snapped the phone shut and spun
toward the stranger.

“
How do you know my name?
Were you looking through my phone?” The mysterious woman
smiled.

“
I’m sorry, I couldn’t help
it… Call it a journalist’s intuition.”

Vivian’s molten eyes widened in
disbelief.

“
So you’re Camilla
Vesely.”

SIX

The pristine lake whispered to fill
the void in conversation.

She was hardly what Vivian imagined
Camilla to look like. When they traded secrets over the phone, she
vividly pictured a woman with her hair tied in a neat bun and
horn-rimmed glasses perched on her nose. Needless to say, Camilla
hardly fit that image.

“
How did you get in here?”
Vivian demanded, not about to lower her guard. Camilla looked the
part of a harmless girl, but she learned long ago not to take a
person at face value. Camilla flashed a disarming smile.

“
The family
key.”

“
You used to live
here?”

“
If only. I wasn’t even
allowed to set foot in this manor. At least, not until everyone
passed away.”

Vivian glanced at the manor
as if a roiling disease might ooze out of the entrance.
She opened her mouth to demand answers when
Camilla’s musical laughter rang forth.

“
I’m the illegitimate
daughter of James Vesely. While I was never allowed a close
relationship with my father, I stopped by every now and then to
adore the manor; the way the first snow blanketed the courtyard,
the statues glistening in the rain … the gardens bursting to life
every spring.” She gazed vapidly into space, her eyes iced over in
reverie. “And you? Why are you sleeping in my father’s
bed?”

“
I didn’t think anyone
lived here anymore.”

“
That doesn’t excuse
trespassing.” Vivian’s eyes narrowed at the blunt
accusation.

“
I wasn’t trespassing. I
have a key.”

“
Really? And who gave it to
you?” Vivian hesitated, biting down on her tongue.

“
It’s a long
story.”

“
I’m a journalist. There’s
no such thing as too long a story. I’ve listened to politicians
ramble for hours about how they’ve single-handedly paved the way
for civilization. I can spare the time to hear your story. After
all, I think you owe me an explanation if you wish to continue
living in Vesely Manor.”

Vivian squirmed under her intense
scrutiny, knowing all too well what could transpire in the next few
seconds. Camilla wouldn’t waste a breath calling the police about a
vagrant squatting in Vesely Manor. Vivian couldn’t afford a misstep
of this magnitude when she was so close to re-integrating with
society. She threw her hands up in defeat.