Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #3: Books 9-12 (A Dead Cold Box Set) by Blake Banner (read with me .TXT) 📕

I laughed. “The whole thing, Hastings—calling you to the Ritz, Chiddester’s call to me when you showed up, as you had to—the whole thing was planned. And you walked right in.”

Chiddester looked gray and exhausted. He said suddenly, “All right, Green. You may as well come in now. I think we have everything we need.”

Hastings’ eyes bulged. He scrambled to his feet and ran for the door. Chiddester was quick for a man his size, and strong. He stood, laid the flat of his left hand on Hastings’ chest and stopped him dead in his track. Then he delivered a right hook to his jaw that sent him reeling back across the room, laid him flat on his back, groaning like Sunday morning after Saturday night.

“There’ll be no Queen’s evidence in this case. You’re all going to the fucking wall!”

The doorbell rang and the guys who’d brought Sadiq in went to open in. There was a murmuring of voices and a rustling of feet and after a moment, the door opened again and Harry came in with two constables.

“Evening, all. Where is he?”

Chiddester pointed and said, “He tried to get away. Had to stop him.” The constables crossed the room and dragged Nigel Hastings to his feet. He was still having trouble focusing his eyes, and he had an ugly, swollen bruise covering the lower left side of his face. The constables cuffed him and Harry intoned, “Nigel Hastings, I am arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Katie Ellison, and conspiring in the attempted murder of Detectives John Stone and Carmen Dehan. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defense if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence against you.” He nodded at the constables. “All right, take him away.”

As they walked him past me, Harry said, “Oh, by the way, Stone, the DNA results came in last minute. It was Hastings’ DNA, like you thought.”

He stopped and stared at me with crazy eyes. “You tricked me! You’re all the same! Lying, cheating…”

The rest of it was lost as he was bundled out into the hall. Chiddester frowned down at Dehan, who was still sitting in her chair in her sinful black dress. “I’m sorry you had to witness that, my dear.”

I smiled down at her, wondering if she’d give him a taste of her attitude. But there was only humor in her eyes. She stood and grinned at him and said, “Don’t apologize, Chiddie. I just wish I’d filmed it so I could watch it again.”

She winked and his cheeks flushed. Harry made a ‘crazy Yanks’ face and said, “Right, we’d better be making a move. Lord Chiddester, I’ll leave a car outside and an armed officer inside. Any problem at all…”

“And I’ll shoot the bastard, Green, don’t worry about that.”

I smiled and before Harry could reprimand him, I asked, “Where is your wife, Chiddester?”

“Upstairs in bed. We’ll be fine, now go and do whatever you have to do.”

We stepped out into the balmy night and crossed the garden toward Harry’s car. The street was oddly peaceful, with the ancient, wrought iron streetlamps casting a gentle, green light through the leaves of the giant chestnuts. His car bleeped and flashed and we pulled open the doors. Then he leaned on the roof a moment and looked at me. “Tough old goat, isn’t he? Lost his daughter, obviously shattered by it, and yet there he is, in the thick of it, not flinching, and even decks the fellow who did it.”

I nodded. “A few more like him, huh, Harry?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe you’re right.”

EIGHTEEN

The radio crackled in the darkness of the car:

“Subject moving north along Ladbroke Grove. Over.”

We pulled away and headed toward Holland Park Avenue. Harry took the radio and spoke. “Bravo team, what is the status of your subject? Over.”

“Bound west along the Acton Vale Sir, seems to be headed home to Ealing Common. Over.”

We reached the intersection with Holland Park Avenue and stopped. It was late and there was no traffic. The road was quiet and still.

I said, “Caulfield has gone home. Sadiq is on his way to Villiers Road, in Willesden.”

He looked at me sharply. “How do you know that?”

I sighed. I could explain, but it wouldn’t convince him. I said, “Believe me. Leave the tail on Caulfield, there is an outside chance he’s not involved. We know for a fact Sadiq is. Even if I’m wrong, which, you know, I’m not, we should stay with him.”

He sighed and turned north toward Notting Hill Gate. “Couldn’t you be wrong just sometimes?” he said, with not much humor. He turned left then and we started accelerating down Ladbroke Grove, toward the Harrow Road. It is long and straight, and at that time of night, there were few people about. The luminous shop fronts and kebab parlors gave the street a depressing air of hopelessness. We passed under the metro bridge and the radio crackled again.

“Subject headed for Kensal Rise Station. There is no traffic, sir, we are falling back in case he spots us. Over.”

“Roger that, Sergeant.”

I turned to him. “Kensal Rise is on the way to Willesden, isn’t it?”

He nodded and gave a glance in the mirror. I heard Dehan laugh.

“Left onto Staverton… He’s doing another left onto Willesden Lane, sir. Over.”

Harry sighed. “Be advised, he is probably headed for Villiers Road. Alpha One, stay behind him. Alpha Two, take Belton Road and intercept at the junction with Villiers. Over.”

“Roger that, sir.”

It crackled again almost immediately. “Bravo team, sir. Subject has stopped at the Guilded Lilly on Ealing Broadway. All night bar, sir. Over.”

“Stay with him, Bravo Team, and stay in