CHAPTER 1

MONDAY 6.30AM

The sound of the sirens seemed a long way off as he ran in the opposite direction, away from the noise, the cars, the smell of blood and the dead. He had no idea of where he was going or what he was going to do, his need was just to get away.

He was breathless and had a stitch in his side which made it all the more difficult to think. As he rounded a corner he stopped, backed against a solid stone wall and hunched over, fingers pressed to his ribs trying to force air back into his lungs whilst he figured out what to do next.

He needed to get as far away as possible but he knew it wouldn't be long before he'd be spotted wearing the clothes he had on. The writing on the blue overall stood out a mile and he felt exposed. There was also the inconvenient wetness forming in his shoe from the wound on his calf and it made his sneakers slip and squelch faintly every time he took a step. Studying the situation he realised that was the least of his problems and if it hadn't been for the blood he may never have escaped at all.

The police were fools and didn't seem to understand his needs, he wasn't a criminal – just someone with very definite tastes, he shouldn't be locked up – he should be given a congregation.

With his breathing more in check he pushed himself off the wall and started walking; he deliberately slowed his pace so as not to attract attention. The world should be waking up soon, people getting ready to go to work, taking kids to school or deciding what to cook for breakfast. Normal people with boring normal lives. He hated every one of them. If anyone stopped him he would kill them.

When he saw no one he started jogging, only slowing down if someone came into view and then he kept his head down, his long brown hair and stubble hiding most of his features from public gaze.

After half an hour or so of aimless wandering and with the sirens far behind him but not so far that he felt he was safe, he came across a small group of untidy shops; a grocers of the type that sold few things at inflated prices to the locals who found it too difficult to drive the bigger malls. A Hawaiian tattoo parlour that looked hideously out of place in the neighbourhood, a small post shop, a paper booth that doubled as a cleaners and a fish bar selling battered food from owners who, the man thought to himself, probably had unclean hands. The post shop and fish bar were closed although the part of the cleaner's shop selling papers seemed to be opening up now in readiness for the rush of locals seeking morning news with their cornflakes. The stranger had no real sense of the time but knew it was too early for most shops to be open and as a consequence there was little activity anywhere in sight barring the small Chinese man pulling the shutter up to the paper kiosk.

The man thought wistfully of his own shop back home in Illinois. His stock was tobacco and other smokes – not always legal ones but no one ever questioned that and his special customers made sure he was never bothered by the police. In fact had it not been for the unfortunate incident with the garbage he had buried in his back yard the cops wouldn't have even have pissed on him if he was on fire. Now he was a hunted man and it felt all so unfair so unpleasant..

He moved out of sight of the shop owner and into an empty telephone booth noticing as he did so that vandals had rendered the phone inoperable. He hunched into the corner to view the scene from relative safety whilst he waited for inspiration to strike.

It didn't take long.

He hadn't realised before but the corner grocery store appeared to be open and there was some activity inside. He waited patiently like the predator he was.

Perhaps he could hold up the store and get some cash – he needed money to get out of the islands. Maybe steal a car from the parking lot he saw out back. He noticed in the dull light of the interior someone waving goodbye to one of the assistants. It was a woman and she exited the shopl, two large brown bags of shopping in her arms. She was small and blonde. He couldn't tell from a distance if she was young or old but what caught his eye was that she was wearing the prettiest outfit of a blouse and full skirt. She was crisp, clean and very neat. The shirt was a pale butter colour and the skirt had large white flowers on a canary yellow background and peeking out from underneath was an out-of-fashion white cotton petticoat. Even her belt and scarf matched. She wore a straw hat to shade her head from the sun and as she turned towards the parking lot with her skirt flouncing around her legs she looked like a milkmaid from one of those television advertisements for dairy produce or Doris Day.

Perhaps his day was looking up after all.

He carefully stepped out of the booth and checked for anyone watching before heading at a fast pace into the car park to follow her.

The woman placed a bag of groceries on the ground and with the other tucked under one arm was fumbling with the car key, trying to insert it into the lock.

He seemingly came out of nowhere and grabbed her from behind placing one hand straight over her mouth in case she screamed. Instantly she froze in shock from the assault, and as her hands came up to grab his hand in an attempt to ward of the attack, she dropped the rest of her shopping. The woman started struggling but was pushed against the car door – her body pressed between the metal and her attacker with the full force of his sinewy body. He was a big man and a five-foot-something woman was no match for him. As he continued to push her he reached with his other hand into the belt of the overalls where he had made a pocket-like slit in the material and fished out something that barely glinted in the morning sun.

He relished the feeling of her body moving against his and wanted to prolong the excitement but realised he had bigger goals than this woman so swiftly, quietly and without mercy, he slit her throat with the small scalpel blade in his hand. The woman had no time to cry out, blood spurted from the wound in her neck and along the top and sides of the car as he continued to hold her there whilst her life drained away. He kept her in that position with her neck pulled back to let the blood flow out easily, her struggles weakened until he felt her die, her last breath accompanied by a gurgle as the life bubbled from her ….

"Que será, será little darling" he said before allowing the now lifeless woman to drop to the ground.

He was confident no one had heard or seen the murder and he felt elated, alive and energised like nothing he had felt in months. He dragged the woman's body away from the door and quickly scooped up the provisions that had scattered around the car then together with the other brown bag he shoved them into the leg space of the back seat. He picked up her hat and popped it on his head at a jaunty angle.

Breathing heavily from a combination of exertion and excitement, the killer lifted the woman's body onto the back seat - sliding her across it and smearing the covering with fresh blood. He banged the door shut and trapped the edge of the flowery yellow skirt in it. His fingers brushed the delicate material and he re-opened the door gently to release the dress, treating it as though it were a living thing.

Almost as an afterthought he looked at the amount of blood on the sedan's paintwork and realised he would need to get rid of it in case it was noticed. The scarlet was so sharp against the stark white. Taking the scalpel he had just used on the woman's flesh, he pulled up her skirt and sliced a large section of her petticoat off before returning the scalpel to its home. He gaily wiped off the red liquid as casually as if he were washing a car. Grisly handiwork done he picked up the keys from the ground, dumped the soiled cloth into the car, got into the driver's seat and drove off.

The killer started to whistle a song happily to himself as he pulled out of the car park and turned right onto the open road, away from his third murder scene of the day.

Doris Day would have been horrified.

He hadn't even thought about the possibility that the woman he had killed had carried a purse, a purse that in the struggle had got kicked under the car and out of sight. As the car pulled away the exposed tanned leather looked out of place on the grey concrete surrounded by a shadow of fresh blood like a solitary boulder in a shiny rock pool.

MONDAY 7.10am

The breeze had a cool edge to it but the new morning sunshine warmed the man standing on the lanai. Every now and then the keen bite of the wind cut through the warmth and raised goosebumps on his naked flesh causing him to shudder involuntarily.

Undeterred, he stood with his hands on the balustrade, fingers gripping the wood, his boyish face turned to soak up the heat as the sun rose further in a crystal blue sky. He closed his eyes against the glare and sighed deeply - chest rising and falling.

Perspiration trickled gently down his lightly tanned torso stopping every now and then to negotiate a muscle or a swell slowly continuing its doomed path down the length of the man's body to meet the top of his loose blue shorts before disappearing from sight. The occasional drip made its slick way to the decking beneath him and onto his bare feet.

He raised one hand and ran it through damp, tightly curled hair. His whole body glowed in the morning air.

A noise from inside broke the reverie and a voice heavy with romance asked "Danny, are you coming back to bed?'

Reluctant to give up his soul searching but knowing he had a different kind of bliss awaiting him in the bedroom he looked back through the lanai doors to call gently to the woman with whom he had shared a bed last night "Just give me a moment Lizzie."

A sleepy note of agreement came back to his ears "Mmnn." said his lover before tucking a feather pillow further under her head and retreating back to slumber and dreams of the night before.

Dan Williams, law enforcement officer and Five-0's second in command sighed again and stretched his arms over his head easing the tension in the muscles of his back, revelling in both the coolness of the breeze and the warmth kissing his skin.

Squinting from the light, he took one last look back at the view across the rough patch of grass in front of the cottage to the stretch of golden beach and the sea beyond with its foamy waves waxing and waning. He turned and glanced at the sleeping form inside; Danny smiled remembering their evening together but he felt bad about their relationship too.

Dan found it hard to get closer to women than a few dates before the damage from his past self-sabotaged any relationship he was in. Part of his problem was the depth of feeling he had for anyone who shared his life. Never the kind of guy for one-night stands he chose his partners carefully, almost to a formula, and found himself falling hopelessly in love with every one of them. If he didn't he could never bring himself to sleep with them. But even though he longed for a partner, his mind screamed at him not to go there again; not to risk getting close and losing them…again….like Jane.

Even now, after a lengthy courtship and half a dozen intimate dates with the beautiful brunette lying beyond the doors he could feel the pain of his loss start again and the need to get away; to release himself from the weight of responsibility he would feel if he brought her into his life. What if she was taken from him as Jane had been?

He felt guilty immediately for thinking that. Here he was standing in the Hawaiian sunshine having made love to a wonderful woman who cared about him deeply, as he did her, and he was already contemplating dumping her. Dumping was probably not the the most appropriate word but Danny knew, in his heart, he would unconsciously start pushing her away and somehow he felt today was that day. The job, Steve McGarrett, his life in Five-0, those would be the excuses – again. It all seemed so inevitable that part of him wondered why he fought it so hard.

Stumbling a little from sun blindness and trying not to disturb her, he padded around the bed and took a good look at the curvaceous body lying before him, barely concealed by the cotton. He lifted the sheets and climbed back into the space he had so recently vacated.

Danny leaned over and gently pushed a stray strand of hair from her forehead as he studied her perfect skin, still feeling ashamed of himself. Opening her eyes, the woman turned as she felt his weight dip the mattress and brought one arm up to lie on Dan's sun-warmed chest whilst she spooned her body into his. Danny kissed her passionately as she clasped his back and pulled him to her.

"Danny, I love you.." she murmured.

…and all the while his mind screamed guilty'

MONDAY 7.48AM

In the Five-O offices at the Iolani Palace Steve McGarrett paced the length of his room, fingers twirling a pencil to such great effect that the two detectives with him; Kono Kalakaua and Chin Ho Kelly, could not keep their eyes off the writing implement as if hypnotised.

Kono shifted his bulk uneasily in the chair, the hot leather making his trousers stick.

"Gentleman," the Five-0 boss said as he continued pacing, "we have a potentially volatile situation here. Two officers are dead and a dangerous escaped criminal on our island with no leads at present as to where he might be."

He stopped pacing and turned to face the men before parking one hip on the side of his large wooden desk.

Still brandishing the pencil like a weapon he continued, "Chin bring us up to speed on the situation, tell us what happened this morning."

The oriental detective dragged his gaze from the writing implement and replied, "Not good Steve. As you know we got a call this morning at around 6.40am from the boys downtown, they sounded real panicked; said a killer was on the loose and that they needed our help. Dispatch passed it to me and I drove down to Aliamanu Park and met the officer there who was more than a little shaken up." Chin paused and his face paled as if remembering something awful.

"It's okay Chin, even if it's unpleasant we need to know details."

"Sure Steve." Regaining his composure he continued, "When I got there the place was crawling with HPD but it was chaotic. Appears someone missed us out of the loop on this and they sure paid for it!

Lieutenant Franks finally took charge at the scene so I spoke to him. Apparently there were two police cars transporting a prisoner; the lead and a backup. The officers in the vehicle following were badly shaken but not hurt however it was the guys in the lead car, the one carrying the prisoner, who were most seriously involved. Both dead."

Chin paused, reflecting again on what he had heard. "Something happened in that car to make it crash Steve, both collided and the lead one spun out and hit a phone pole, busting the radiator. The other squad car was badly damaged but managed to stay on the road. The HPD officer driving the lead car had been killed by the prisoner so we assume that was how he lost control. The other officer was then forced out of the car with a blade to his throat."

McGarrett was confused. "Hold it, back up Chin. How did a high security prisoner get hold of a knife?"

"They don't know Steve. Somehow the escapee had secreted a knife upon his person. They have no idea how he did it - he was strip searched after capture and just before they set off for the airport. At this stage we just know he has a weapon."

"Did he take the officer's guns?" Steve said, concerned.

"That's the funny part, he didn't even touch them!"

"Who is this guy?" McGarrett asked.

"Roger Cooke – seriously bad dude. Name ring any bells?"

Kono beat Steve to it. The big Hawaiian sat forward in his chair. "Sure I know him. He's the guy that killed those men in Illinois isn't he? One sick haole!"

Steve agreed "He was convicted of the murder of eight men and one woman as I recall. They suspected more bodies but never found any. I don't remember the whole case but I'd remember his face anywhere; his mugshot was in the papers for months." He added "He was supposed to be awaiting re-trial on the mainland, something about new evidence coming to light I believe. What's he doing here on our rock Chin?"

"No idea, still waiting to hear. All Franks told me was he had escaped to Honolulu, means unknown, then was recaptured here before he even got past immigration. After an overnight at Halawa they were taking him back to the airport for a 9am flight out.

The cavalcade arrived at the prison about 6am to pick Cooke up and get the papers signed over. It took a while but everything went smoothly; no hint of any trouble until just before the crash." Chin continued "The guys were supposed to turn the prisoner over to someone from the Illinois SPD who was arriving this morning to accompany Cooke back to the mainland with an armed escort."

"Right, so how did the other officer die?"

Chin shook his head "When I spoke to the others they said after their car crashed they got out, pulled their guns and approached the transport then noticed a struggle going on. From what they could see the driver appeared to be seriously injured, or dead, and they believe the other officer hit the windshield. They think he was dazed which is how Cooke overwhelmed him."

Steve was genuinely shocked "Are you telling me that HPD allowed a murderer to be transported in an ordinary squad car without even a mesh shielding the officers!?" He sat down in his chair with a heavy thump, amazed at what he was hearing.

Chin and Kono looked at each other. Kono slowly shook his head at their stupidity.

"I thought the same boss," Chin said. "Seems to me negligence is the least of their worries. Someone's going to pay for this with their badge."

"Damn straight, I'll see to it! Two people have already paid with their lives! I'll make sure every one of those involved in such a stupid, incompetent plan gets precisely what they deserve. God help them if anyone from the general public gets hurt because of this! Go on Chin."

"So at that point the officers said they weren't sure if Cooke had a gun so they stayed a safe distance away and appealed to him to come out with his hands up. He had the other officer, Officer Johnson, by the hair and forced him out of the car where he used him as a human shield"

"Wasn't he handcuffed either or did they do something right?" McGarrett said sarcastically.

"He was handcuffed but not behind his back apparently and he held a blade to Johnson's throat. One of the other guys said it seem small like some kind of razor blade but he wasn't sure, all he knew was their fellow policeman was in trouble. One slip of that knife and he was dead.

Cooke called for them to put their weapons down and they complied, raising their hands and backing off further. They said he seemed mad, kept laughing and whistling.

Because of the hostage they didn't see any other option than to let the prisoner go. Once he'd dragged Johnson off behind some bushes they retrieved their guns and gave chase. By the time they caught up the young officer was lying on the ground bleeding. They tried to help him but he bled out from a throat wound. Cooke's cuffs were beside the body and no sign of the prisoner. That's when they called it in."

Steve was shocked at the senseless waste of life, all through incompetence.

"Both officers were married Steve and Johnson was only twenty-three!" Chin was genuinely affected by what he had seen that morning. "That blade really tore up Officer Keeley's neck. I've never seen so much blood."

Kono felt sick as he pictured it.

McGarrett got up from the chair and put a sympathetic hand on the detective's shoulder.

"I'd hate to be the one to break the news to those guy's widows!" Chin shook his head.

"Don't worry my friend you won't have to but get Che Fong and Doc Bergman to check those officers' wounds would you? We must know how he's armed."

"Should we get Danny back in on this one boss? Seems like we could do with the extra help."

"Yeah Kono, tell Danno I'm sorry to break up his long weekend but we need all hands on deck for this one. I don't know what he is doing can you find him?"

Kono grinned bringing a much needed lightness back into the conversation. "Think I have a pretty good idea what he was up to!"

"Girls?" Steve asked and smiled knowingly before retreating back to the pile of papers on his desk. "Chin I also want you to get everyone that was involved this morning in my office wiki wiki. We need statements and tell HPD we're taking over this investigation. They've lost the right to any privileges the way it's been handled so far. Make sure all free units are despatched to cover the area the prisoner escaped. Start a grid search and put Cooke's description on an APB. Kono?"

"Yes boss?"

"Get down to the airport, see if that marshall or agent has arrived from Illinois and if so bring him back here. We need more intel. on this Cooke guy before we go further.." Steve added "On your way out please send Jenny in, oh and don't forget to tell Danny to put his suit on before he comes to work!"

They laughed and opened the door to leave just as Steve's secretary, Jenny Sherman stepped past them and into the room. Kono didn't bother to relay McGarrett's request to her, seemed her normal sixth-sense was working anyway.

"Sorry Steve, there's a gentleman to see you, a Doctor Woodfield wanting to speak to you about the case."

"Okay love, send him in. Oh and Jenny"

"Yes Steve?"

"Mahalo for coming in so early on a Monday morning, I appreciate your help. Any chance of a coffee?"

Jenny smiled, happy that the head of Five-0 had time to worry about his staff "No problem – on both counts." She said and turned to usher a tall, slender man into the room.

He was a a sombre-looking individual dressed in a faded black suit, blue shirt and a burnt orange patterned tie. His long face was freckled and his light brown hair - worn slightly long - retreated back in a receding hairline. Topping off the effect were fashionable sideburns and cold, steely blue-grey eyes. Woodfield's handshake was firm as McGarrett promptly asked, "What can I do for you Mr..?"

"Woodfield" he finished for him " Doctor Anthony Woodfield but call me Tony." He smiled at the Five-0 chief and looked as though he expected to be offered a seat but McGarrett simply replied "Doctor Woodfield, what brings you to my office so early? I'll tell you now, if you're a reporter," he pointed to the door Woodfield had come through "there is the door."

Woodfield gave a slight grimace, he'd heard what Hawaii's state unit chief could be like. "No, you misunderstand," he said with conviction, "I'm a criminal psychologist and I've come to give you some strong advice."