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anything other than the table and chairs.
    Their breathing became fervid, their moaning deeper, longer. A zipper glided, and Nox gritted his teeth in revulsion.
    â€˜What’s that?’ The woman had fear etched into her voice.
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜That … that smell.’
    Suddenly Nox realised his body odour was his enemy. He had to act now.
    At that very moment, his foot touched something on the floor, and he knew exactly what it was. The small cast-iron statue had probably been used as a door stop for centuries, though at some point in its history it had most likely held a much more glorious posting. Nox picked it up from the floor and, upon feeling its significant weight, he knew the little statue was about to make history.
    The element of surprise was in his favour, and Nox wasted no time. He stepped forward and swung blindly in the darkness at the table. The statue thumped into something solid. It wasn’t wood. There was another load moan, not one of sexual arousal, either.
    â€˜Niccolo, are you okay?’
    â€˜No, he’s not.’ Nox stepped towards her voice, and as she screamed, he brought down the statue. The scream died and he hit her again, just to make sure she was dead too. Silence returned to the room. Nox let out the breath he’d been holding and when he inhaled again, he sucked in the metallic smell of blood mingled with his own fishy odour.
    It was time to get the keys to the nurse’s station, and as much as he didn’t want to, he had to turn on the light. He took another deep breath to calm himself, and with the statue poised above his head in case either of his victims moved, he flicked the switch.
    It was gruesome. The sight of blood and other mangled bits made his stomach buckle.
    He held his breath and cringed while feeling along the woman’s body. It was an eternity before he located the jingling keys in her coat. With the keys secured in his pocket, Nox wiped his fingerprints off the little statue and returned it to the floor. Then he flicked off the light with his knuckle, left the Esagonale room and closed the door, and using Isabella’s keys, he locked it.
    The nurse’s station was only a short walk, and once there he tried six keys before he unlocked the door. He shut the door behind him and turned on the light.
    Nox went straight for the medicine cabinet and again fiddled with the keys until he located the right one to open the door. He stuffed a couple of syringes into his pocket, along with bottles of morphine, and a few other bottles with names he couldn’t pronounce.
    He took a moment to go through then nurse’s desk drawers in the hope of finding cash. In the bottom drawer, he found something that was so much better.
    A gun.
    Nox drew the small weapon out from beneath the paperwork and turned it over in his hands. He would never have guessed a woman like Isabella would obtain a weapon. Then again, he would never have imagined her having sex on the ancient table in the Esagonale room either.
    He checked the other drawers and found a chocolate bar, but nothing else of interest. He stood to leave, and that was when he noticed a handbag hanging on a hook on the back of the door. He spilled the contents onto the table and rummaged through the purse. Nox smiled at the one hundred and sixty euro slotted into the side. It was more cash than he’d held in months. Hell, it could be years.
    Nox put the gun, money, drugs, syringes and his scroll into the bag. Then he took off his coat. He slung the bag over his shoulder and put his coat back on. Now all his worldly possessions were tucked up nicely near his armpit and away from view. For the third time that night, Nox wiped down the surfaces he’d touched and left the room.
    With multiple weapons in his possession, the only thing left to do was kidnap Rosalina. For months he’d stewed over a suitable place to keep her captive once he’d kidnapped her. The answer had come to