I thought I could get away with only one more chapter but it seems not.

"Sir, slow down. We can't save Sergeant Havers if we're dead."

Tommy shot Winston a look that would have burned through the heat shield of the space shuttle, but he eased his foot off the accelerator. "Why haven't they rung back yet?"

Beside him, Winston sighed. "It's only been ten minutes, Sir. You heard what the Special Ops guy said, there are no obvious signs of life, but the neighbour thought they heard an argument coming from her flat about an hour ago. They have sent for the heat seeker. If anyone is alive in there, we'll know."

Lynley grimaced. He did not want to think about Barbara not being alive. In the hour since they had left the hotel on the southern outskirts of Colchester, his feeling of connectedness to Barbara had faded. Whether she was injured or had given up hope that he would find her, the consequences were equally terrible. He tried to focus his mind on reassuring her he was on his way. If he could feel her, then perhaps she could feel him. "She's alive, Winston. She's alive."

Tommy obeyed the speed until Winston began to make some phone calls. Then he gently accelerated to sit about 10 miles over the limit.

They arrived at the police cordon near the flat just under ninety minutes after they had left the motel. The heat sensing camera drone was being set up. "They are going to fly it all around the flat and see if they can detect anything," Winston reported to Tommy after he had spoken to the technicians. "We should have some news within ten minutes."

Tommy knew he would incur everyone's wrath, but he had waited long enough. "Tell them not to bother."

He pulled blue nitrile gloves from his jacket pocket and hurriedly put them on as he dashed up the street towards Barbara's front door. If anything had happened inside, he did not want Hillier accusing him of contaminating the scene. He fingered his key ring in his trouser pocket and felt for her key. She had given him an emergency key with a plastic cover over the bow decorated as a female bobby. He had laughed at the time but was grateful now. Tommy quickly inserted it into the lock and turned it. Pushing the door open a few inches, he peered inside. All the blinds were drawn, and on a dull mid-afternoon, the flat was lit only with a soft, eerie yellow light that defied her cheap curtains.

He took a breath then pushed the door open and stepped inside. The hair on his neck stood on end when he saw a discarded bathrobe from the hotel. They were here. Or at least they had been. "Barbara? It's me... Tommy."

A faint muffled rustle came from his left. He turned towards it when he caught a movement in the opposite direction. Instinct made him turn. A large cast iron frypan descended from a height towards his head. He turned and jumped, allowing it to hit on his back near the shoulder blade. It hurt like hell, and he heard a crack. "Oomf."

"How did you find us?" Scott demanded. He was holding Barbara's largest kitchen knife. Tommy knew it as sharp because she was always too afraid to use it in case she popped off a finger.

"It was obvious." Tommy was pleased to see his adversary confused.

"I thought...

"That you could outsmart a bunch of dumb cops?" Tommy pressed home the advantage that he hoped would give him an opportunity to disarm Mr Bean. "I am not stupid, and I share a connection with Barbara that you will never have."

"Margaret."

"Margaret?"

"My wife. I brought my wife here so we could be reunited. It's almost over. I will join her soon."

Lynley was conscious that sweat was trickling down his back. "Where is Margaret?"

Scott flicked the knife toward Barbara's bedroom. Tommy had never been inside, but he knew from her description that it had no easy exit as there was only a high window running above her bed. To escape, they would have to overpower Scott. He had no idea of Barbara's condition, but not sensing any connection to her. He suspected she was not fit and healthy. Not taking his eye from Scott, he shuffled back towards the door.

As he neared, he could hear groaning coming from the room. She was alive. Adrenaline pumped through him giving him new strength and determination. He pushed the door open and stepped back into the room. "Barbara, I'm here."

"Sir? Hel...p meee."

A strange acrid ammonia smell assaulted his nostrils. He glanced at Barbara before trying to shut the door on Scott. The glance had cost him the fraction of a second it had taken for Scott to wedge his foot between the doorframe and the cheap, flimsy door. Each man grunted as they pushed. Tommy braced one leg back and leant his shoulder against the door. Pain shot from his shoulder to his heel. He quickly backed off his weight and leant his uninsured shoulder against the door. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his chest heaved with heavy pants that were timed with the surges of pain into his shoulders and back.

Tommy lowered his head in an effort to push harder. He had assumed that when he did not return quickly, Winston would organise a team to raid the flat. His ears strained to hear footsteps, but the only sound was the wheezing breath of Scott. The ammonia smell was being overwhelmed by the foul whiff of Scott's breath that reminded him of the rancid shark eat eaten by the Scandinavians. With his head lowered, he could see Barbara. He quickly looked away. She was splayed naked the bed with only a small towel covering her pelvis. Her breasts were covered in red scratches as if they had been clawed by rough talons. Her hands and feet were bound with rough hemp rope stained brown where she had struggled and worn away her skin. What shocked him most was that her hair was black. At first, he assumed a wig, but when he dared a second look, he could see it had been dyed.

Tommy feared what Scott May have done. He wanted to go to her, to cover and comfort her. She had seen him glance at her and had looked away. He could feel her shame as if it were his own. "Barbara, look at me. It's okay. None of this is your fault."

"I... he..."

"Save your strength, Barbara. Let me deal with him first."

Tommy released his weight on the door. When Scott overbalanced, Tommy rammed the door into his head. Scott moves his foot to balance, and Tommy slammed the door. Without a lock, that gave him only a momentary reprieve. He turned and leant his weight against the door.

"Arrrrgggghhhhhhhh!"

Scott slammed into the door. The handle gave way, and the door pushed open forcing Tommy into the room. He spun to face Scott. The man had lost touch with reality. For the first time, Tommy saw that he was also naked. His worst fears for Barbara seemed true. Scott sank into a semi-crouch. His eyes burned fiercely in the dull light. His body was unseemingly hairy. With the smell, the hair, and the eyes he looked like a rabid animal.

"She's mine, Lynley. Not yours. My Margaret came back to me." Scott looked across at Barbara with genuine love.

Tommy felt sorry for him, but he had to protect Barbara. He took two steps to his left to stand between her and Scott. He opened his arms and lowered his shoulders ready to respond. "She's not yours, Scott. You will never touch her again."

Scott leapt at him. The knife grazed Tommy's left arm slicing through his jacket. Tommy reached up with his right hand and grabbed Scott's throat. Scott pulled back, but Tommy tightened his grip, searching with his thumb and forefinger for the arteries that would cut off the blood to Scott's brain. He watched as the man's eyes grew wider and wilder. The pain was intense as Tommy felt the knife slip into his side.

Behind him, Barbara squealed. It was an urgent, angry cry. Tommy jerked sideways and rammed the heel of his hand upward into Scott's nose. The knife handle was slick with blood and slid from Scott's grip but stayed imbedded in his side. Scott tottered on his heels. Tommy still had him by the throat. He tried to punch him but had no strength in his hand. In a move he considered unsporting, Tommy reached out and found Scott's genitals. He clamped his hand around them. His disgust at feeling them wet and slippery was overwhelmed by the feeling of failing strength and little pinpricks of light flashing in his eyes. He yanked them down and twisted his hand 180 degrees.

"Arrrrrrrroooooooyaaaaaaaaa."

Scott's scream came directly out of Hell. He moved backwards, and Tommy let him fall. With a sickening crunch, Scott's head slammed against the edge of Barbara's bedside table. His limp body rolled to the side.

A barely audible whimpering broke the sudden silence. He looked at Barbara. Her face was turned away from him. "I'm here, Barbara."

Holding the knife in his wound, Tommy bent down cautiously and felt his adversary's neck. There was a faint pulse. With only hand available hand, the search of his pockets for his phone took too long. His hands shook as he fumbled to unlock it. "Winston. Get the hell in here, and we need three ambulances." He shoved the phone in his trouser pocket then slipped off his jacket.

He carefully placed it over his sergeant, covering her modesty. He then climbed onto the bed and put his arm over her ensuring that the knife did not go deeper into his side he pulled her sobbing face against his chest. "You're safe, Barbara. I'm here."

When Tommy woke, he was under bright lights. "Wake up Mr Lynley. You have to wake up."

He opened his eyes. A small African woman with beaded hair was shaking him. "Where...?" He tried to sit up but fell back with the pain in his side.

"Whoa, Mr Lynley. Steady on."

"Barbara. Where's Barbara?"

"I don't know who that is. You've been in surgery. You're in recovery. Do you remember being stabbed?"

Tommy nodded. "I need to know how Barbara Havers is. It is important. Get someone here who can tell me."

"Cool. Stay calm, Mr Lynley. I will find out if you co-operate. Now what's your full name?"

"Thomas Edward William Lynley, Eighth Earl of Asherton. Now find me someone who can tell me how Barbara is."

The nurse nodded and hurried away.

Within ten minutes, Stuart appeared at his bed dressed in scrubs. "They didn't let you operate did they?" Lynley asked.

"No, I'm out of practice in live ones. I observed. The doctor did a good job. He was very pleased you did not pull out the knife."

"I heard that from you once."

"You listen to what I say? Well, that's a first."

"Cut the small talk. I want to know how Barbara is."

"Physically, not too bad. She is covered in scratches. The nurses washed them and dressed the worst ones and started antibiotics. She insisted they dye her hair back to its proper colour. In a week, she will be fine."

Tommy shook her head. "No, she won't. He... violated her."

Stuart put his hand on Lynley's shoulder. "No. There is no evidence of that. He appears to have masturbated while he watched her. We think he intended to... couple with her as his final act before killing her, and probably himself. You prevented that."

Tommy tried unsuccessfully to stop a tear before it leaked from his eye. "Small mercy, but she must be traumatised. How do you recover from that?"

Stuart squeezed his shoulder. "She's strong, but she will need help. Something tells me you might be the key to that."

Tommy shook his head. "She was mortified when I found her like that."

"She would have been mortified that anyone did, but also very grateful. You both need time to recover. Maybe get away from London... and perhaps it's time to tell her how you feel about her."

Tommy bristled. "She's my..."

"Life?" Stuart interjected. "Your reason for living? The woman you love? I don't care how you phrase it, just damned well tell her." He turned and walked up the corridor.