I debated going upstairs to throw him off then I could get out on a random floor and take the elevator down. But stairs are not my friend. Even at home, going up the two flights of steps, a total of twenty-four, yes, I counted, and my thighs burned and I was sucking wind by the time I got to the landing in front of my bedroom. It was just embarra.s.sing.

So up was out for the thigh burning but also, what if the doors were locked from the stairwell side, not allowing me in? I could be trapped with a killer below me and no way out. On that note, I hit the steps running.

I had just cleared the second landing when I heard the door slam open and Tyler was running down after me.

"Scarlett, give me that paper," he yelled.

If I had any doubt about its significance, he had just cleared that up. I grabbed at the door on the landing. It was locked, so I had made a good call there. I ignored Tyler and kept going. I couldn't be distracted. I had to make time, thirty-one floors to go. I could do this. I just prayed he was in worse shape than I was.

Five more flights and I was sucking wind hard. Snot and tears were leaking from my face and I was sweating like I had just run a 10K. My knees were wobbly and my ankles felt crunched. Every muscle in my legs felt wrecked. I kept going.

I glanced up to see where he was. My heart sank. Where there had been a two-story gap between us, we were now at one and he looked like he was gaining on me. I poured the speed on, my feet flying over the steps, my hand skimming the cold steel rail as I put distance between us. I could outrun him. I decided to try and jump down the last few steps to increase the distance. Big mistake.

I did not stick the landing. My ankle turned and my leg went all noodly under me. I fell in a heap. Then I heard a noise that caused my blood to freeze into cubes in my veins; judging by how light-headed I went, the cubes caused my circulatory system to shut down. When Tyler's laughter echoed in the stairwell, I almost pa.s.sed out.

Instead, I grabbed the handrail and hauled myself up. I grunted with the effort. The pain in my ankle turned my fear tears into serious pain tears. I hauled myself up anyway.

"Scarlett, seriously stop," Tyler said. "At this point, you're just making a spectacle of yourself."

He had stopped running and was now standing on the landing above me, doubled over trying to catch his breath. I took great pleasure in the fact that he was winded. What can I say? When death is imminent, you take victories where you can.

I pulled out my phone and opened an app.

"Who are you calling?" he asked. "The police?"

I ignored him. I turned my back to him and snapped a quick picture of the invoice then I sent it to the first three people in my contacts, Harrison, Viv and Fee. Someone had to get this, but I didn't have time to tell them where I was. Darn it. I stuffed the invoice into my phone case, hoping it would be safe there.

"What if I am?" I asked. I held the phone to my ear, pretending to call while the message sent with its attachment.

"I'd say that's unfortunate," he said.

"You got that right," I said. He was at the top of the steps just a short staircase away from me. "They're going to bust you for the murder of Winthrop Dashavoy. You strangled him with your necktie and I have the proof."

"Proof? Don't be ridiculous," he said.

"If it's not proof, why are you so determined to get it back?" I asked. "And while we're at it, why did you kill Win?"

"I didn't-" he began but I cut him off. He was a sociopath, he was never going to admit to his crime, but I was pretty sure I had it figured.

"Your wife is a lot younger than you," I said. "It must be hard keeping a beautiful woman like Ava faithful to you, probably keeping her doped up to her eyeb.a.l.l.s helps. Is that what Win did for you? You kept him employed so long as he kept your wife 'medicated'?"

It was a long shot, but I was betting I was right. His face went eight different shades of angry red, leaving it mottled and rashy looking.

"You can't prove anything," he said.

"Maybe," I said. "But when I visited your wife the other day she certainly had a lot to say about Win."

He didn't hide his surprise fast enough. I saw the widening of his eyes and I knew I'd struck a nerve.

"That's right," I said. "Your wife knows what you did, too. And she's willing to tell the police and you will be arrested."

I might have overplayed my hand here. Tyler laughed. It was chilling. Then he looked at me with eyes I had once thought were kind but now saw as calculating and cruel.

"I sincerely doubt that," he said.

"Really, why?" I asked. I didn't really care. I was in full-on stall mode now, trying to weigh my increasingly limited options.

"My dear," he said. "Who do you think I have on my payroll?"

That got my attention. I looked at him and saw his Cheshire cat smile.

"Who?" I asked. My voice was barely a whisper but it echoed in the cement walls.

"Your dear Inspector Franks, of course," he said. "Why else do you think he came all the way from his vacation in York if not to clean up this little spot of trouble I've found myself in?"

I gripped the handrail so tightly my knuckles went white. "You're lying."

"No, I'm not," he said. "And you're wrong about me keeping my wife drugged. She came to me damaged, addicted to pills, but she hid it so well for so long, and then, I found out about her condition and discovered who her supplier was. It was Win. I begged him to stop, but he laughed and said his plan was to steal both my wife and my business and there was nothing I could do to stop him.

"Then he showed up at our annual bonfire party not wearing his tie," Carson said. "He knew it was mandatory. I told him to wear mine. He refused and taunted me about the day that he would own my company and burn all of the neckties. I was so angry. He gave me no choice."

"Choice? You're a murderer," I said.

"No, I'm not," he said. "Don't you see? I had to silence him just like I tried to silence you that night on Portobello Road."

Oh, my G.o.d! Carson was the man in the mask who had chased me. I felt sick and dizzy. The stairwell spun and I started to see spots. I was afraid I was going to faint.

Carson shook his head at me and resumed walking toward me. I had no doubt that this time he would kill me for sure. I had nothing to lose. I thrust my phone into my coat pocket and threw my leg over the handrail. I slid out of reach just as he lunged for me.

The turns were the worst part. They were very tight and I got my leg stuck the first time and barely got it out before I broke my shinbone. By the second level I had figured it out. Slide backward and kick the legs out at the turns. The heat from the metal on the fabric of my jeans was searing but I kept going, knowing that it was the only way I could outdistance him.

Carson yelled after me and I saw him pick up his pace on the steps but he didn't try to ride the rail like I was. A few more turns and I was starting to get dizzy. If I fell off the rail, I was a dead woman.

By the fifth turn I had left Carson several flights behind and I had to close my eyes for fear that I would throw up. It was a losing battle. A whiff of smoke caught my attention and I glanced behind me to see a man standing on the landing, smoking. Behind him the door was propped open just a crack.

He saw me and his eyes went wide and the cigarette fell out of his mouth and onto the smartphone he'd been looking at.

I grabbed the rail, chafing my hands as I braked to a stop. Carson's steps were ringing out upstairs. The man on the landing was shaking the burning cigarette off his phone. I swung my leg over the rail and ran at him, ignoring the searing pain in my ankle.

"Inside!" I barked. "Inside now!"

He stared stupidly at me until I ran past him toward the door. I grabbed him by the arm and pulled him with me as I yanked open the door and dragged him inside after me, closing the door behind us.

"Does the door lock?" I asked.

He stared at me, not speaking. It appeared I had shocked him into a stupor. I had no time for that either.

"Does the door lock?" I yelled.

The man blinked at me and then glanced at the room beyond me. I turned and noticed that all of the sound in the room had stopped. The office of cubicles filled the room and every person had popped up out of their designated box like meerkats on sentry duty.

A fist slammed against the door and I jumped. The door rattled on its hinges. Carson was banging on it and yelling, "Open the door, Scarlett. Open the door. You can't win this."

"Do not open that door!" I yelled at the man, who had also jumped at the sound of Carson's fist. "The man on the other side is a killer. He will kill you all."

Perhaps I was overdramatizing but I couldn't risk any weakness in the ranks.

A woman at the desk closest to me, with an enormous knot of black hair on her head, cleared her throat and asked, "Do you want me to call the police?"

"Yes, do it now," I said. "Please."

She gave me a quick nod and ducked back down into her cubby. The banging on the door stopped, and the man who'd been smoking looked at me.

"Do not open the door," I said. "He's probably still out there, waiting."

The man nodded, looking scared. He was young, looking to be just out of university. He had a thick mop of black hair and his face was aesthetically unshaven. I had read this was a new look that ad campaigns were using to make men look more virile. Whatever.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Adi," he said. "I'm just an intern here. Ah, man, I burnt my phone."

"It's okay, Adi, you're doing fine," I said. "Can you tell me what floor I'm on?"

"You're on the eighteenth floor," he said.

"And what office is this?" I asked. I made my voice seem very matter-of-fact when inside I was having a complete freak-out.

It worked. He swallowed and blew out a breath and his voice was calmer when he spoke, "It's Quantum Calculations, it's an accounting firm."

"Okay, can you lead me out of here?" I asked.

He nodded. "Yeah, I can do that."

We pa.s.sed the girl in the cubicle who was on the phone, and I paused to say, "Tell them that a killer is in the stairwell. His name is Tyler Carson."

I heard the collective gasp emitted from the group. So they knew him. This could go badly for me.

"I have the proof that he killed Winthrop Dashavoy," I said. "I must get it to the authorities, and I need your help."

Adi looked at me then at the door. "Tyler Carson, one of the richest men in England, are you sure?"

"Positive," I said. "He was afraid Win was planning to take over his company just like he'd taken his wife."

There was a moment of silence while the room absorbed this information. Adi studied me closely and then nodded.

"All right then," he said. He turned and looked at the people in the room. "I saw him, I saw him trying to catch her. Whatever you do, do not let him in."

A buzz of conversation began, and two men came forward. They positioned themselves on either side of the door and crossed their arms.

I wanted to weep with relief. Maybe I was going to survive this after all.

"He'll be stuck in the stairwell unless he can get someone to let him out. The lower sixteen floors are a Swiss insurance company, so I don't know how lucky he'll get," Adi said. "You can beat him by taking the elevator, but let's hide that hair of yours."

Adi was taller than me by six inches and he was moving fast. I had to pump my wobbly legs to keep up. He s.n.a.t.c.hed a hooded coat off a coatrack and tossed it to me.

"Put that on with the hood up," he said.

He hit the elevator b.u.t.ton while I put the larger coat on over my own. I pulled up the hood, covering my red hair.

"That should work," he said. He adjusted the hood a bit before he was satisfied.

The elevator arrived with the pleasant ping of an electronic bell. It was empty. I wasn't sure if that was good or bad. He went to step inside with me, but I shook my head.

"No, stay here," I said. "It's too dangerous."

The doors started to close.

"But-" he began to argue but I cut him off.

"I'll return your coat," I said.

He looked like he was going to jump in with me, but the doors shut. I felt both relieved and disappointed. The coward in me would have liked the company but I couldn't bear it if he was harmed because of me.

The elevator glided down the floors. I remembered that Mim had been very excited about the Gherkin, which was completed a few years before she died. She loved that it was the tenth tallest building in the city, and that its elevators moved at a clip of six meters per second. I couldn't believe these ridiculous thoughts were flitting through my mind, then again, anything to keep the panic at bay.

I glanced up. Surely I should have reached the lobby by now. It felt as if the elevator were crawling. I wondered if Carson had managed to sneak out of the stairwell. Would he be waiting for me? The elevator stopped on the eleventh floor. Three people got on. No one even glanced at me as they stayed on the other side of the compartment, chatting about the upcoming weather forecast for the weekend.

At first, I was annoyed. Why are you stopping my getaway elevator and then talking about inanities? But then I realized that they would make an excellent cover for me to hide behind when we reached the lobby.

When the car stopped, I gestured for them to go first and then I followed, sticking close to their heels as if I were a part of their group.

It worked for about ten steps, but as we came around the corner of the elevator bank, a hand grabbed my arm, stopping me.

I balled my right hand into a fist. If it was Tyler, I was going to drop him with a sucker punch. Okay, I was talking myself up, since the only thing I'd ever punched was a pillow.

"Ginger, what are you doing here? What was that message about? Hey, whoa!"

Luckily, Harrison ducked just before my fist would have connected with his nose. I put so much weight behind it, it spun me around, pushing the hood off my hair while I fought to keep my balance. He caught me about the waist and then frowned.

"Whose coat is this? It's enormous on you," he said.

"Harrison!" I cried. I hugged him hard and fast and then started running for the door. "No time!"

The front of the Gherkin has two ma.s.sive revolving gla.s.s doors. I hit the one on the right with Harrison jumping right in behind me. As it began to turn, I saw Inspector Franks coming in the other. We saw each other at the same time, and in a nanosecond, I knew it was true. Everything Tyler Carson had told me about the inspector was true.

"Ginger, what is going on?" Harrison asked.

I looked at him in panic. Then I started trying to push the door to go faster.