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

Nancy cocked her head. “Any idea? It is odd, as you say.”

“Someone was very keen for us to find him … I just need to know who.”

“Any other discoveries on your side? Andy has been sieving through CCTV cameras for two days solid.”

“We’ve traced one of the fake SOCO men to Balham but after that nothing.”

“And the other man?” Nancy pushed away the memories of the moment she had crashed the chair over his back several times.

“Eastern European, according to Yvonne … previously had lots of tattoos but they have been removed surgically.”

“So, a keen desire for anonymity.”

“Without a doubt … these people aim to operate without being noticed. They know all the blind spots of the London CCTV system. They have an excellent understanding of how the police operate.”

“And they recruit people who won’t mind being anonymised. It’s a big thing for those Eastern European gang members to let go of their tats … they tell their life story.”

“Is that so?” Pole moved forward a little.

“There is a code, and some tattoos will tell what crimes these people have committed, whether they have escaped prison, whether they are lifers and so on …” Nancy nodded. “The Russians in particular. The mafia and the prisoners themselves use it to signal reward or punishment. You get a tattoo that tells people if you are a snitch or a paedophile, and you are given that tattoo whether you like it or not.”

“So, you think Eastern European or Russian mafia?”

“That’s right … or an agency involved in this area, using former agents … ex KGB or ex FSB that have moved on.”

Pole jaw tightened. “Something we can’t ignore either.”

“I wouldn’t. As long as we don’t know what it is that Ollie was trying to hide, we can’t discount anything.” Nancy had hit an unexpected nerve.

“Shall we have some food?” Pole looked at his watch. He got up and moved slowly towards the kitchen.

Nancy waited for a short moment. She was not backing down and she had to try to make him see this was right. She was now certain that Pole was himself taking risks he had not disclosed to her.

There was only one way to find out.

She stood up and reached the kitchen as he was moving the tossed salad to the table, meticulously arranging the serving cutlery on top of the bowl.

“I almost forgot to say … Yvonne has found someone willing to help in the authentication of Amy’s document.”

Pole slowed down a little. He considered the dish he had just brought in and rearranged the cutlery once more. “Who is that?”

“I don’t have a name, but that person has the tools it will take … they work for MI6.”

* * *

“Ollie,” was the only word Cora could utter when the UCH doctor called her. She had asked to be told as soon as the results came, torn between the desire to still have hope and wanting to know the truth.

He wouldn’t wake up. He would never smile at her again. He would never …

The doctor’s voice was saying her name, asking questions.

Was she alone?

No.

Did she need help?

No.

He could call back later to discuss things further.

Yes.

Cora thanked him in a voice she barely recognised. She looked around, feeling at a loss. Beth’s room that had felt welcoming and cosy, now looked alien. She longed to be in her flat, in their flat amongst their familiar things. She wanted to wrap herself in Ollie’s ample dressing gown and smell the scent of his discreet aftershave.

She must have spent some time on the floor where she had fallen. Someone was knocking softly at the door. Johnny’s cheerful face popped in through the door he had just opened.

“Dinner is …” He did not finish his sentence. In a few steps, he had reached her, knelt next to her to wrap his arms around her. There was no need to talk. Her friends knew about her last visit to the hospital.

Beth and Charlie came in. Beth sat on the bed next to Cora, hands on her shoulders. Charlie sat on the other side of her, simply a kind presence.

“The doctor told me to speak to Inspector Pole.” Cora closed her eyes for a short moment. She managed to steady her voice to tell her friends the news.

Crying would not bring back the man she loved. She needed to know what had happened. Whatever Ollie had been, he had no longer been a junkie.

“Whoever suggested that?” Charlie moved sideways to look at Cora, his voice tinged with anger.

“Because they found him in a heroin den and that looks bad if you don’t know the guy.” Johnny had moved forward to speak to his partner.

“That’s ridiculous … I know a junkie when I see one and that was not him.”

“He didn’t even want to try your excellent, crunchy cookies spiced with a hint of weed.” Johnny shrugged. This was almost incomprehensible.

“He had taken drugs though … at uni.” Cora’s voice trembled. Perhaps she was wrong after all.

“Everybody at uni tries a bit of everything … right?” Johnny looked at the others for support. “That’s what it’s all about, try different things, find yourself … you know, that sort of stuff.”

“And learn something …” Beth’s tone of voice stopped Johnny. “… which Ollie did better than any of us … with a PhD from Harvard Medical School.”

“What did Inspector Pole say about all this?” Charlie slid to the floor to sit next to Cora.

“I’m not sure he will want to discuss it with me. I suppose I could be involved … but I sense he is not ruling it out.”

“That’s his job.” Beth spotted a loose thread on Cora’s sweater and removed it delicately.

“He won’t fall for it.” Johnny shook his head with fierce determination. “For a copper he looks pretty enlightened.”

“You just like the goatee and the fancy motorbike.” Charlie mumbled.

“Not true … I’m perfectly able