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

towards the flat and looked around for signs that might cause him to drop his plan. There was no one else around and the cars parked in the small courtyard in front of the building had been there since he arrived. A police patrol car had driven around twice already that morning to show a police presence in the area and an unmarked police vehicle would be taking up position within the hour.

He was almost finished with his fag. He moved swiftly towards the main road, crossed diagonally, and entered the small café he had spotted on his previous nicotine run.

And there it was … He could see it from the colour of the liquid in the mug that a large man in overalls was holding, sitting near the window.

A proper cup of English brew.

The woman at the counter eyed him with suspicion. Then gave him a large smile. The broad cockney accent and the request for a cuppa and a sausage roll seemed to have convinced her that Michael Branning was an okay guy.

He dipped his lips into the burning liquid and smiled, perfect.

Branning took a bite of his sausage roll. It was now pure heaven.

In the distance a large van had turned into the courtyard he had just left and parked in front of the building that was still cordoned off and sealed. He looked at his watch. They were early. He grabbed his tea and made his way across the road.

Three people got out of the van and started kitting up in full PPE.

“You were quick.”

“No time to lose mate.” The tall man was zipping up his white protective suit and adjusting the hood over his head.

“Which lab are you from?” Branning stood a few paces away, relaxed, removing the lid of the cup in his hand.

“Yvonne Butler’s Lab.” The sound of the man’s voice was muffled by the mask he had now fitted to his face.

Branning nodded again. He looked at the other two men who had also completed their preparations. They lifted the yellow and black hazard tape. Two of them carried their SOCO kit inside the building and disappeared.

The tall man who had spoken to him lingered a little longer. He locked the van and made his way to the first floor of the ravaged building.

Branning strolled through the other entrance to the building, climbing the steps quickly. He walked past the door of the arty gang’s flat, straight to the back door that opened onto the old fire exit.

His mobile rang, a number he did not recognise.

“DS Branning, Nancy Wu speaking … I hope I am not interrupting.”

He grumbled a no.

“Excellent … I wanted to check on Cora.”

“She is having a rest.”

“Good … Anything else?”

Branning almost asked why he should give her any more information but then recalled being told she was a consultant with the Met. Perhaps a little diplomacy would not go amiss.

“The SOCO team has arrived.”

“Is that Yvonne Butler’s team?”

“It is, Ma’am.”

“Splendid … Do you mind if I pop in to ask a few questions?”

Branning didn’t mind as long as they didn’t prejudice the integrity of the evidence.

Nancy assured him she understood the rules rather well.

She jumped into a cab and arrived less than 15 minutes later.

DS Branning was waiting for her next to the van that had brought the SOCO team. They had not reappeared since he last saw them, then again he had nipped into the arty gang flat to check on Cora.

“They started half an hour ago.” Branning said by way of introduction.

“And still no evidence bag?”

“Not that I have seen.”

“They probably came down without you noticing.”

Branning squinted but did not reply. Nancy breached the new entry tape and turned towards him. “Are you coming?”

She turned back and walked into the property without waiting for his answer.

There was little noise coming from Cora’s flat. The place sounded almost deserted apart from the soft sound of objects being moved around. Nancy stopped. Branning caught up with her. “What?”

She put a finger to her lips to stop him talking. They walked together towards the entrance.

The door had been shut. Nancy pushed against it and it opened. She ventured a quick glance. There was no one in her immediate field of vision.

Furniture had been moved. A set of solid planks had been laid across a part of the floor that was threatening to collapse. One of the men was standing near the door and the other two had reached the far end of the room. Their face masks had been dropped around their chins and their gloves were black from the soot on the furniture they had touched.

The man at the far end seemed to be systematically going through the props for Cora’s installation.

Nancy took one step forward, her eyes falling on the box that lay open. Its contents did not belong to the standard SOCO team equipment. Despite her caution Nancy trod on a piece of broken pottery. One of the men turned around. What he held in his hand had the glimmer of a gun.

* * *

The plane had been in the air for about 30 minutes. The ride was a little bumpy, but Jack didn’t mind. He had chosen to purchase a first-class ticket, less out of a need for comfort but rather to ensure privacy. He had asked one of his analysts to gather as much information as she could about a subject that sounded more like sci-fi than a medical school study topic … Bioinformatics.

A number of emails had dropped into his inbox just as the steward had asked him to log off and shut the laptop down. Jack had indulged in accepting the snack offered by American Airlines … An excellent smoked salmon and cream cheese bagel and a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

He resisted the temptation to say yes when the tray of freshly baked muffins came through, poking with a finger at a waistline that had suddenly started to expand more than it should. He was going to London and intended to