BLOOD DRAGON by Freddie Peters (books to get back into reading .TXT) 📕

“How did they manage that?” Nancy too is glad the subject can be dropped.

Ollie winks. “Backstreets, wrong side of the road and jumping traffic lights.”

Nancy fakes indignation.

Cora has already opened the building door and she is calling them from inside. She then opens the loft door and a magnificent structure almost 12ft high engulfs almost the entire living space.

“The beauty of this piece …” Cora sweeps a hand through the air. “… is that I can rearrange it as I feel. The aluminium tubes are just props. They fit into one another in multiple ways … it’s really neat.”

Nancy said aloud, “The aluminium tubes … your props … where are they?”

* * *

Andy had worked his magic again. Pole never ceased to be amazed by his DS’s ability with technology.

“Gov, I think I’ve been able to trace the hoodie guy.”

Pole looked at his watch. Barely forty minutes since he had forwarded the pictures that Nancy had sent him.

“Shoot.”

Andy adjusted his thick glasses, cracked his knuckles and seized his computer mouse decisively.

“CCTV picks him up entering the Regents Canal towpath at Saint Peters Street. I backtracked and found another image of him on the High Street … interesting …”

“Okay, genius. What is your point?”

“Right … a black SUV drops him at Camden tube. The driver must know what he’s doing because I can’t get a trace on the SUV either before or after. And as we know, the number plate doesn’t exist.”

“Same as yesterday, so … why not change car by simply stealing another one?”

“That’s the thing, a black SUV looks very much like any other black SUV. Unless there is something distinctive about it, I won’t be able to trace it. The other thing, of course, is that the windows are dark and I can’t see who’s inside.”

Pole dragged over an empty chair and sat next to Andy’s desk, looking at the computer screen sideways.

“But something surprised me.” Andy had isolated the hoodie as he was walking out of Angel tube station and towards the canal. Andy slowed down the movement of him walking on screen.

“I watch a lot of these and I’ve learned a few things from hours of CCTV deciphering.”

“Are you telling me I am not being fair?” Pole crossed his arms over his chest. “You get the best CCTV footage there is, just for you … I selected it myself.”

“Yes … you … did …” Andy was paying no attention what Pole was saying. Pole could have served him his notice. He would not have heard him.

“Do you see the way he walks … legs close to one another, rather short strides?”

The image on the screen moved painfully slowly, one foot lifting from the ground and taking what seemed forever to land on the ground again. Pole could see what Andy was getting at, the strides were indeed short.

“So, he has a problem with the way he walks … that’s a good identifier.”

Andy chuckled. “And also, the body looks as if it is bobbing up and down when he walks.”

Andy used a cursor he had created on screen and followed the movement with it to demonstrate.

“Okay, I’m convinced. What issues does this man have with his legs then?”

Andy pulled a disapproving face. “Half the population suffers from it. I don’t think it’s a bloke … I think it’s a woman.”

Chapter Five

“What about the props?”

“I don’t quite know why they come to mind, but I just recall talking about them, the last time I was here. Somehow it feels relevant.” Nancy stopped herself from mentioning Ollie, but Cora had read her mind. She remembered that glorious evening too. She ran her hand through her hair and grabbed a tuft of it.

“They are still there, stored at the far end of the room.”

They both looked around the large open space. It had been cleverly designed to exploit the layout for maximum effect. A small entrance, leading directly onto an open kitchen with its long work top, a dining room and lounge area. At the far end, where the room turned a corner into the short arm of an ‘L’, was Cora’s studio.

“I don’t think we can reach your studio.” Nancy crouched down to assess the state of the floor. “I’m not even sure we should be walking on this floor at all.”

“You can’t but I can.” Cora removed the thick bomber jacket Nancy had lent her and took off her shoes and socks. She started climbing the pillar that stood closest to the entrance.

Nancy opened her mouth but stopped herself. The evidence had been disturbed some time ago when the firefighters had trampled all over the place and her friend was not a stupid young girl. She didn’t need someone telling her off every time she decided to do something.

Twice Cora almost slipped. The residue from the smoke that coated every surface of the flat was treacherous. Cora managed to reach the top of the column.

“Jonathan was right. The fire started in multiple places at the same time. I’m glad I never stored my welding equipment in here.”

“I didn’t think about that … where do you cut, weld and assemble your props?”

“There is a place in Hackney I share with some other artists. I do all the rough work there.”

Cora moved up a little higher and swung her legs across the central beam of the room. She was now 12ft in the air looking as comfortable as if she were relaxing in a lounger.

“What do you see now?” Nancy craned her neck to follow Cora’s eyes, but there was no way she could see round the corner.

“The props have been displaced but I’m not sure whether it is because of the heat of the fire, the water spray or someone trying to move them.”

The soot that covered everything was clinging to her hands and feet. Cora stood up slowly. Her right foot slipped again. “Shit … this stuff is diabolical.” She clung to the top part of the vertical beam she had