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

“Ollie Wilson is a US National.” Pole waited. Marsh came to sit down at his desk. He let himself drop into his leather armchair a little too heavily judging by the complaining sounds the joints made as he did.

The Super rolled his chair forward, elbows on the armrests of his seat, fingertips joined in front of his mouth. His mind was working on whether there would be anything to gain by being involved. He no doubt reminisced the Henry Crowne days when Pole, in the space of four years, had brought him some of the most high-profile cases of his career.

Marsh eyes lit up, a mixture of renewed interest and mischief.

“Is Ms Wu involved?”

Pole raised a quizzical eyebrow, a slight reproach that Marsh should find a case of interest solely based on the involvement, or not, of their consultant.

“Well, yes, as a matter of fact she is, Sir.”

“And what does the excellent Ms Wu think about the central question?”

“If you are referring to whether Ollie Wilson was involved with drugs in some extensive way, she’s waiting for DS Todd to complete his research.”

Marsh nodded. He swivelled from left to right in his chair. How far could he get involved without looking a little too obvious. The change of tack came as a surprise to Pole … he had not forgotten after all.

“And of course, you have notified her of our need to clarify her involvement in the Mark Phelps case?”

Pole’s fingers tightened on the armrest of his chair. “Not yet, Sir.”

It was now for Marsh to raise a quizzical eyebrow. “Are you dragging your feet?”

Pole managed a lukewarm smile. “No … I’m simply trying to do this sensibly and with sensitivity.” Pole remained serious. “It is always rather difficult to question people’s integrity. I am seeking to approach Ms Butler, one of the best pathologists in the UK and Ms Wu, a former QC of impeccable stature, in a manner that does the job without alienating them.”

Marsh rolled the chair further forward towards his desk.

“I’m not suggesting otherwise, Pole.” His voice was irritated that DCI Pole might think him unsubtle.

“Commander Ferguson, an excellent officer … may become a little impatient, but I am carrying out the informal investigation as fast as I can.”

“And what is the outcome of your findings so far?” Marsh leaned forward, his eyes searching Pole for a physical reaction he might not be able to hide.

“We have found logs of a number of burner phones, active at or near our offices.” Pole exhaled slowly. “But we haven’t tracked down the owners yet.”

“Isn’t the idea of a burner phone that it is untraceable?” Marsh retorted.

“That’s the general idea. However, sometimes we can trace them back to the place they were sold, and with the help of CCTV cameras find out who the buyer was.”

“Who is dealing with this?” Marsh pursed his lips.

“DS Todd.”

“But did he not work on the Mark Phelps case himself?”

“That’s right.” Pole’s words almost stuck in his throat.

“Don’t you think that amounts to a conflict of interest?” Marsh pointed out, satisfied to have found a weakness in Pole’s approach.

Pole sat back in his chair. “That would be the case, Sir, if this were a full formal inquiry. In fact, I would certainly not be allowed to conduct it myself, since I too would be compromised. But if we are going to keep this investigation informal, and prevent it from raising unwelcome attention, we need to limit it to a small number of people.”

Marsh tapped his fingers on the desk. Pole knew he had a point and that Marsh did not want the Ferguson inquiry to get out of hand. Marsh had been involved in the case himself, and, if it came to a formal inquiry, he too would be on the list of staff under suspicion.

“Then perhaps we should introduce a four-eye procedure?”

Pole froze for an instant. “You mean …”

“Well, yes … let’s make sure that each individual finding is reviewed by two people. Since I was the senior officer on the case, why don’t I be the second pair of eyes?”

Pole nodded slowly, lost for words. Marsh would be looking over one of his shoulders and MI6 the other.

* * *

“Fresh cup of tea?” Charlie was telling, not asking. No one around the table looked their best. Cora, Beth and Charlie had dark rings under their eyes. Whereas it could be expected of Beth who was now sleeping in the lounge, and Cora who was understandably feeling the trauma of the past few days, Charlie and Johnny also looked a little fatigued.

Johnny had opted for a good dose of concealer that seemed to have gone some way towards hiding the shadows under his eyes.

The doorbell rang and everybody straightened up. Perhaps Branning had forgotten his keys. Johnny decided he looked the most presentable and went to open the door.

“Darlin’ we missed you.”

“Obviously not Branning,” Beth grinned.

Nat entered the kitchen and did the rounds, kissing everyone on the cheek. She bent over Cora, holding her a little longer. She too looked pale. Charlie offered her some tea.

“I’m just popping in really quickly to see how you are all holding up.” Nat had taken off her bike helmet and was still holding it awkwardly. Her eyes rested on Cora for a moment.

“Won’t you stay and have a cup with us then?” Charlie had already taken a mug out.

A shadow crossed Nat’s face, but Cora could not quite make out why it was.

“All right … Just a quick one.” The cup had already been poured. Nat took hold of it with her free hand and leaned against the worktop, gulping the hot liquid down.

“Isn’t it a bit hot with your leather jacket?”

“I’m fine.” Nat drew back a little. “I’m sorry I can’t stay for very long.”

She held back from finishing her cup, waiting for the conversation she had interrupted to resume. Cora hesitated. She wanted to share the crazy evening she had just had, but