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completely submerged in another minute and a half, maybe two.
    ‘Operations said that there was no way they could trace the call?’ Hunter asked Garcia.
    ‘That’s right. He was bouncing the signal all over town.’
    The water reached the man’s stomach. He was still trying to wiggle himself free, but he was steadily losing energy. He was shivering even more now. A combination of uncontrollable fear and the water temperature, Hunter guessed.
    There was nothing Hunter or Garcia could say, so they both went eerily quiet, watching death rise inch by inch around the man on their computer screens.
    The phone on Hunter’s desk rang again.
    ‘Detective, is this for real?’ Dennis Baxter asked.
    ‘Right now, I have no reason to believe it isn’t. Are you capturing it?’
    ‘Yeah, I’m recording it.’
    ‘Any luck with tracing it?’
    ‘Not yet. It can take a few minutes.’
    ‘Get back to me if you get anything.’
    ‘Sure.’
    The water reached the man’s chest, and the camera slowly zoomed in on his face. He was sobbing. Hope had left his eyes. He was giving up.
    ‘I don’t think I can watch this,’ Garcia said, moving from behind his desk and pacing the room.
    The water reached the man’s shoulders. In a minute it would be past his nose, and death would arrive with the next breath. He closed his eyes and waited. He wasn’t trying to break free anymore.
    The water reached the underside of his chin, and then, without any warning, it stopped. Not a drop more came out of the pipes.
    ‘What the hell?’ Hunter and Garcia looked at each other for a second and then back at the screen. Surprise etched on both their faces.
    ‘It was a goddamn hoax,’ Garcia said, approaching Hunter. A nervous smile on his face. ‘Some nutcase pulling our chain.’
    Hunter wasn’t so sure.
    At that exact moment the phone on Hunter’s desk rang again.

Six
    The sound of the phone ringing cut through the silence like thunder ripping through a night sky.
    ‘You are very clever, Detective Hunter,’ the caller said.
    Hunter quickly signaled Garcia one more time, and within seconds the call was being recorded again.
    ‘You almost had me fooled,’ the caller carried on. ‘I thought your concern for the victim was quite touching. Once you realized there was no way you could save him, you picked what seemed to be the less sadistic, less painful and quicker death of the two choices I gave you. But that was only half of the story, wasn’t it?’
    Garcia looked confused.
    Hunter said nothing.
    ‘I figured out the hidden reason behind your choice, Detective.’
    No reply.
    ‘You realized I was about to pick fire, and you quickly interrupted me and chose water.’ A self-assured laugh. ‘Water would’ve given you hope, right?’
    ‘Hope?’ Garcia mouthed the word, frowning at Hunter.
    ‘The hope that when, and if, you come across the body, maybe your—’ the caller put on a silly voice ‘ —super-advanced, high-tech forensics lab could uncover something. Maybe on his skin, or hair, or a trace of something under his nails or inside his mouth. Who knows what microscopic clues I might have left behind, isn’t that right, Detective Hunter? But fire would’ve destroyed it all. It would’ve carbonized his entire body and everything else with it. No clues left, microscopic or not.’
    Garcia hadn’t thought of that.
    ‘But if he drowns, the body is intact.’ The caller moved on. ‘Death comes from suffocation . . . skin, hair, nails . . . nothing gets destroyed. It’s all there ready to be analyzed.’ The caller paused for breath. ‘There might be a million things to find. Even the water in his lungs could provide you with some sort of clue. That’s why you chose water, isn’t it, Detective? If you can’t save him, do the next best thing.’ The caller let out an animated laugh. ‘Always thinking like a detective. Oh, you’re no fun.’
    Hunter gave himself a subtle headshake. ‘You were right the first time around. My