Osiris had been highly critical of his fellow killer. The attack was certainly violent enough, but way too scrappy. Too emotional. The attacker had failed to distance himself from the victim and as a result the frenzied assault was over too quickly.
Unable to help himself he spoke out loud, ‘Slow it down. Savour the moment.’
The attacker froze. Osiris cursed his own stupidity.
Seconds later the murderer was gone, speeding off in his car. Osiris moved in to inspect the recently deceased. She was tall, blonde and beautiful. He snapped on a pair of surgical gloves he always kept to hand in his car and lifted the vic’s head and laughed out loud. ‘That’s why it was over so quickly, you broke her neck.’ He sighed. ‘What a bloody novice. What a bloody waste.’ He made his way back to his red Mondeo.
Like the blonde’s killer, Osiris had also been watching her have sex in the Aston Martin. He liked to trawl discreet car parks around the country where, as a voyeur, you could usually spot some illicit affairs going on. Occasionally, he’d got lucky himself when he was asked to join in – dogging, as it was called in the tabloid press.
Osiris had watched as the blonde and her would-be killer had a brief conversation. From her demeanour it seemed as if she knew her attacker. Whatever she said made him fly into a violent rage. She hadn’t even had the chance to defend herself such was the ferocity of the attack.
Osiris now needed to focus. He needed his self-help tapes. ‘Channel your energy,’ the American voice intoned. ‘Remember, knowledge is power.’
Fate had handed Osiris a crucial piece of information. He now just had to figure out how to use it.