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

“Spot on, Gov.” Andy handed over the post-it on which he had scribbled the message. Pole glanced at it vaguely. He knew what the message was saying and was not keen to read it.

“Thanks Andy … how is the search for the mysterious man you lost in Balham going?”

“Nothing much, so far.” Andy looked gloomy. He was rarely defeated by someone sneaking past CCTV cameras or other public recording devices. It seemed, however, that this individual had been well prepared.

“How about the gunman that went through the floorboards and is now lying on one of Yvonne’s slabs?”

Andy remained gloomy. “Yvonne has not started the post mortem yet … otherwise nothing has shown up.”

Pole eyebrows shot up. “You mean he has no record?”

“If he has one … it’s very well hidden … the only observation Yvonne made was that he is almost certainly not British.”

“I agree on that one.”

“I’m in touch with Interpol and Europol. I’ve just received photos from the lab which have been forwarded to them.”

“Something will give.” Pole nodded encouragingly.

“Not so sure, Gov.” Andy hesitated. “It is as though someone has gone to great lengths to erase all traces of whoever this chap is.”

Pole grabbed a chair and rolled it next to his DS’s desk.

“That’s an interesting theory.”

“… and also, they are pretty well informed. Even if it was not too difficult to find out which lab was going to look after the Wilson case and intercept the real SOCO team, it’s really ballsy.” Andy had crossed his plump arms over his chest.

Pole gave a shadow of a smile. His DS was getting much more confident in voicing his own opinions … he liked it.

“That’s a good point too … and I suppose the next thing we need to ask is whether they have someone close to Cora who keeps them informed.”

Andy pursed his lips. “How do we find out?”

Pole was fidgeting with the post-it Andy had given him. The idea of an inside job rattled him. At least MI6 was trying to fight the good fight.

Andy was waiting for an answer and Pole shook away the unwanted thoughts.

“Let me speak to Rob … he may be able to help. His network is extensive and I’d very much like to know who the person is, who gave the NCA the location of Ollie Wilson.”

“And I’ll keep digging.” Andy returned to his monitors.

Pole turned towards his office, keyed his pin code into the door lock and entered.

Ferguson had invited himself for an 11am visit this morning, that is if Pole didn’t mind.

Pole very much minded but not something to admit to one of the best counter-terrorist squad commanders in London.

* * *

The doorbell ringing several times in short bursts made Nancy jump. She gathered together the photos that were still lying on the coffee table and with nervous fingers replaced them in the envelope they came from.

Nancy moved the intercom. She immediately recognised Cora’s voice. She took a moment to steel herself.

“I’ll leave the door on the latch and prepare some tea.”

She turned back towards the kitchen, barely missing the side of the door. She swore under her breath. She needed to get a grip.

Nancy threw her head back and opened the cupboard doors. She heard the front door close. “Sichuan tea will do?” She turned towards Cora with a welcoming smile. “Although, dear DS Branning might not approve …”

Cora moved from one foot to the other. “He’s not with me.”

Nancy’s measuring spoon stopped halfway in the air. “This is not on … really.” But the sternness was not there. Why could she not be as severe as she should with Cora? “I’m going to have to call him and tell him you’re safe.”

“Please don’t.” Cora dropped her eyelids and her shoulders followed. “Or at least give me a bit of time with you on my own first.”

Nancy said nothing for a moment. She had made up her mind already, but just for good measure, she wouldn’t yield to her friend’s demand just yet.

“I’ll give you a cup of tea and then I’ll call him.”

Cora nodded, relieved. She joined Nancy at the counter, and they made tea in silence, preparing the pot once the water had boiled, throwing in the right measure of leaves, covering it with a tea cosy.

“I thought DS Branning was the arty gang’s new friend.”

“It’s not that.” Cora stopped, holding onto the door handle of the pantry she had just opened to fetch some biscuits. “He is very nosy. He looks around the flat and I’m always worried about Johnny’s … you know …”

“Plant cultivation …” Nancy’s voice sounded amused.

“He does have green fingers.” Cora giggled.

“DS Branning is there for your protection … I don’t think he cares so much about your friend’s smoking habits.”

“I’m not going to complain, but I’m not always comfortable with all the attention.”

“And if you give him the slip on every occasion … things are not going to improve.” Nancy lifted the tea cosy, pouring tea into two mugs and replaced it to keep the pot warm.

“He probably won’t even notice I’ve gone.”

“How did you manage that anyway?”

Cora smiled. “There is a really handy drainpipe outside Beth’s window and the flat is only on the first floor.”

“Oh well then … you might as well have jumped.” Nancy handed over a mug of the fragrant Sichuan tea, lips pursed and eyes amused.

“I hesitated.” Cora drank some tea and exhaled in satisfaction. “So lovely … I don’t know why I never think about buying this brand when I go to Chinatown in Soho.”

“I only do because it’s a family tradition.” Nancy took a sip and gave a small sigh of contentment too. “One of the few traditions I can recall.”

Cora sat on the sofa in exactly the same place she had occupied a couple of days previously, when she had been carried by Pole into the safety of Nancy’s flat.

“I think Ollie said something.” Cora left the mug on the coffee table, grabbed a comfortable blanket Nancy had left