Requiem Mass Read Online Free PDF Page A

spots, Mrs Fearnside, do you mind if I lock the doors?’
    ‘No, that’s all right. I always drive with my doors locked these days; there are so many horror stories, I honestly don’t feel safe any more if I’m driving on my own.’
    He smiled reassuringly and all four doors locked automatically with a satisfying, synchronised clunk as the car purred its way slowly through the tightly packed cars around Buckingham Palace. Most of his concentration was on driving smoothly through the late rush-hour traffic. At all costs, he wanted to avoid any sort of accident that might draw attention to them. Some of his awareness, however, was still focused on the woman beside him. The next half-hour was the most dangerous and difficult part of his plan. If she became suspicious or upset in any way now, he had few non-violent options for dealing with her. He did not believe that she knew London well, so he thought he had at least another ten minutesbefore the signposts started to hint that they were heading away from the direction she had taken previously to reach the ‘studios’.
    In the meantime, he needed to build up her confidence in him. His intuition told him that gentle flirtation would be the easiest way to create a relaxed and intimate atmosphere between them.
    ‘Are you quite comfortable, Mrs Fearnside? Is the temperature all right for you?’ He treated her to a sidelong glance from amber eyes which, he calculated, should convey a hint of attraction and definite approval of what he saw, though in truth, he had no sexual interest in her whatsoever. In a purely academic way he was aware that she could be described as very attractive – a factor which would be a hindrance from now on as there was an increased risk she would be remembered by potential witnesses.
    However, he had learnt to respond to his targets when necessary in the way they expected him to. This even extended to subtle modulations in voice, accent, and mannerisms. They’d had a behavioural psychologist in once who had explained that most people gained comfort from the subtle repetition of their normal behaviour by others in their company. Apparently he had a natural skill. Deep down, he felt nothing for her – no compassion, no pity – only a calculated interest in her likely reactions and a finely tuned sensitivity to her mood. There was no way that she would have been able to sense this, so polished was his performance.
    ‘I’m fine, thank you.’ Deborah thought she caught a hint of interest in the glance he gave her from deep tawny eyes – like a tiger, she felt. There was something slightly predatory in his manner, in the way that he looked at her, but his obvious interest in her transformed this into an exciting hint of danger. A warm feeling grew in the pit of her stomach. She felt no trace of alarm. ‘And it’s Deborah, please, not Mrs Fearnside.’
    ‘Right. Deborah it is. That’s a nice name. My sister had a friend called Deborah when she was at school; I always secretly fancied her. Do you know what the name means?’
    She shook her head.
    ‘It comes from the Bible, somebody’s nurse, I think. Anyway, it’s the Hebrew word for bee – which can mean one of two things, diligence or sweetness. I learnt all this to impress that earlier Deborah but it didn’t do me much good!’ He laughed, the comfortable, relaxed sound of a man who could poke fun at himself without being worried. ‘For what it’s worth, I think the name suits you.’ He treated her to another of his sideways smiles.
    To her consternation, Deborah found that she was blushing and hoped he had not seen. She was finding him increasingly attractive. For the first time she noticed that his voice was quite cultured, softly middle class, and she wondered why he had a job as a chauffeur.
    Most of his attention was now focused on the traffic, which was typically heavy at that time in the morning. She looked at his hands on the wheel, long-fingered and strong in light-weight