A Twist of the Knife by Peter James Read Free Book Online Page A

state’, were more accurate descriptions – at least, for anyone who took the consciousness-download option offered by most leading funeral directors these days as a pre-death service. Blimey, Henry thought, the array of options was bewildering for both the living and the downloaded. Options for everything: static books, interactive books; virtual reality, alternative reality. And, of course, good old television still had its following.
    No one knew how many channels there were now. His MinuteManager trawled the airwaves around the clock for programmes fitting Henry’s taste parameters. It then divided them into two categories – those Henry would actually watch and those it would load straight into Henry’s brain via his silicon interface, so that he would simply have the memory of having watched them.
    ‘There’s some good legal retro on tonight,’ the MinuteManager announced. ‘
L.A. Law
,
Kramer vs. Kramer
,
Perry Mason
,
CSI
,
The Firm
,
Lawman
,
Rumpole of the Bailey
. Would you care to watch any in real time or compressed time?’
    For some moments Henry Garrick did not answer. He was still wondering why his wife had got up so early. Perhaps there was a problem with one of her modules – maybe he should call an engineer and get her looked at under the maintenance contract, if he could remember who the hell it was with. Then her voice startled him.
    ‘Goodbye, darling. Have a nice day.’
    She was going out! She wasn’t supposed to go out . . . There wasn’t any way she
could
go out. ‘Hey!’ he shouted. ‘Hey, where the hell are you going?’
    *
     
    It was nearly midnight when Susan came back. She reeked of booze and smoke and had her arms around a man.
    ‘Where have you been?’ Henry yelled at his wife. ‘And who the hell is this creep?’
    To Henry’s chagrin, Susan didn’t even respond. She did not even look at him.
    ‘I thought I would miss him,’ Susan said quietly to her new boyfriend, Sam. ‘I thought it would be nice to continue having him around the house. The problem is, he’s never realized he’s dead – can you believe it? He thought it was me that died! Poor sod, he was getting terribly muddled towards the end of his life. It’s spooky the way he looks at me sometimes. I mean, he’s just a hologram guided by a few bits of data, but it’s as if he’s still alive, still sentient. And he seems to be getting more and more so every day. He actually got mad at me for going out this morning! I guess it’s time to call a halt.’
    ‘Yes,’ Sam agreed, staring uneasily at the quivering hologram. ‘There comes a time when you have to let go.’
    Susan lifted her arm and pressed the switch.

MEET ME AT THE CREMATORIUM
     

‘I want you,’ he texted.
    ‘I want you more!’ she texted back.
    Trevor was fond of saying that the past was another country. Well, at this moment for Janet, it was the future that was another country. The future – and another man.
    And tonight she was going to have him. Again.
    A sharp, erotic sensation coiled in the pit of her stomach at the thought of him. A longing. A craving.
    Tonight I am going to have you. Again and again and again!
    Her past receded in the rear-view mirror with every kilometre she covered. The forest of pines that lined the autobahn streaked by on both sides, along with road signs, turn-offs and other, slower cars. She was in a hurry to get there. Her heart beat with excitement, with danger. Her pulse raced. She had been running on adrenaline for forty-eight hours, but she wasn’t tired – she was wide, wide awake. Going into the unknown. Going to meet a man who had been a total stranger until just a few weeks ago.
    His photograph, which she had printed from the jpeg he had emailed her, lay on the passenger seat of her elderly grey Passat. He was naked. A tall, muscular guy, semi-erect as if teasing her to make him bigger. A tight stomach, nearly a six-pack, and she could already feel it pressing hard against her own. He had