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

the last question, she took a sip of tea. It relaxed her tightening throat. It was so much harder to remain dispassionate about a case that was so close to her. She stood up and walked back to the kitchen, refreshed her cup and gave herself a few moments before returning to her study.

She gazed outside into the gardens below. The trees stood naked and dark against the brightening sky. Another few minutes and she would call Pole’s DS.

She returned to her desk and decided to concentrate on the Ollie Wilson case before calling Andy.

Was Ollie working on unauthorised bio-tech research?

Where does the financial backing come from?

What is Jared Turner’s, Viro-Tech’s CEO, background and connections?

Nancy toyed with her pen for a moment but reluctantly added a final question.

Was Ollie Wilson still clean?

Her hand lingered over her mobile phone. She picked it up with a sharp move and dialled Andy’s number.

“DS Todd.” Andy’s voice sounded young and keen on the phone.

Nancy bade him good morning, amused.

“Good morning Ms W … Nancy … are you calling for an update on the case?”

“Excellent guess, of course, and to thank you for updating Inspector Pole on the particulars of my misadventures. I hope he did not shoot the messenger.”

“It got a little hairy.” Andy chuckled.

“Oops … I owe you one then. I hope it’s okay if you tell me a bit more about the Wilson case, though.”

“No problem … Inspector Pole is not around. He’s just been summoned to see Superintendent Marsh.”

“The Super is involved in the case?” Nancy asked candidly.

“I don’t think so.” Andy hesitated and Nancy didn’t push. There was very little Andy would not tell her and certainly Pole had not mentioned Marsh. Not unexpected in itself but the combination of Andy’s reluctance and Pole’s silence piqued her curiosity … another question to be added to the list.

“Never mind … what is the latest?”

“Still very little information coming through on the man in the mortuary. Yvonne, I mean Ms Butler, has confirmed that the genetics of our John Doe is Eastern European.

“But otherwise, we have nothing, no dental records, some broken bones, but nothing like a plate or a medical implant that could help in further identifying him. The other matter of interest is that he had tattoos removed recently. We can no longer see what these were but we can see that the skin has regrown in places after the procedure.”

“Tatts, Pole mentioned this. Can you tell me more, or perhaps send me a picture of what you have?”

“Sure, but you’re not going to see much.” Andy sounded more intrigued than reluctant.

“I know … you wonder what it is that I might be able to see,” Nancy acknowledged. “I have met many villains in my time and quite a few of them came from the East. I’ve learnt a lot about what these tattoos mean and if you can still see some of their shapes … who knows?”

“Brill … I’ll send you what I’ve got right away.” Andy was already sending an email with attachments. As he did so, he kept updating Nancy on progress.

“I’ve also gone through Ollie Wilson’s bank accounts and apart from the usual standard current account and deposit account, I have found an account in Jersey, set up a couple of years ago. It had very little activity until recently and that’s when it becomes quite interesting.”

“You mean the regular payment and withdrawal of large sums of money?” Nancy inhaled, holding her breath until he answered.

“Not huge, but big enough, and ranging from a couple of thousand up to £10,000.”

“Have you been able to trace the funds and the payee or recipient?”

“An account in Panama for the incoming payments, an account in Switzerland for the sums going out … It’s a nominee account so we’ll need to do a lot more digging before I can get the name of the ultimate beneficial owner.”

“Typical money laundering structure.” Nancy mused.

“That sounds right.”

“How about the biker?” She had to ask and it was a welcome diversion.

“Well, I lost his trace in one of the underpasses in the East End. The camera had been smashed. By the time we could pick up his trail he had switched clothes and swapped number plates. I did a trace on ANPR … nothing.”

“Organised crime … and they were well prepared.” Nancy knew that. The question was where from and who was paying.

“Very much so.” Andy’s voice dipped a little. “I just can’t pin these guys down … frustrating.”

“I’ve got the pictures you sent me … let’s see what we’ve got.”

Nancy opened the shots of the man’s torso, arms and shoulders, back and neck. Andy was right, there was very little to see. She took her time to consider all of them.

Apart from the thoracic puncture that had caused death, the skin looked remarkably intact. Large patches of newly grown skin indicated where the tattoos had been removed. It must have been a long and painful process and the requirement for anonymity must have been obligatory.

There was nothing left on the torso or the arms. She moved meticulously to the man’s neck and shoulders. She enlarged a close up shot and considered it for a moment.

“Look at photo #37 … what do you see?”

The sound of fingers on the keyboard, a moment’s hesitation. “A long object perhaps … not sure … a rod?”

“Could it be a dagger …?”

“Perhaps … I could ask Ms Butler to take more pictures and I could play around with the pixilation …” Andy’s voice trailed off. His mind assessing whether this was a possible route to an answer.

“And I’ll pay Yvonne a visit. I’m sure she won’t mind.”

“Excuse me for asking, but what does a tattoo of a dagger mean?”

“It’s a typical tattoo used by the Russian mafia or by people who have spent time in Russian prisons … A dagger through the neck means that the bearer has killed someone in prison and they can be hired to kill.”

“Wow … how did you …” Andy stopped short, hesitating