Read Online 48 Hours - A City of London Thriller by J Jackson Bentley - Free Book Online
Authors: J Jackson Bentley
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London’s most
popular restaurants were within a stone’s throw of where we stood.
We walked along the South Bank in the direction of Butler’s Wharf
and the stylish post-modern pedestrian bridge. There was no sign of
Andrew, but it was only just after seven, so we agreed to give him
until seven fifteen before calling him.
We stood on the bridge for a while, taking in the fresh air
and just talking. I explained how the Shad Thames area had turned
from a derelict warehouse district into a thriving community
occupied by aspirational professionals. As I looked around, I
noticed that many of the businesses and buildings which we could
see housed companies which were in our company insurance
portfolio.
Dee was becoming concerned, and suggested that we call Andrew.
By now it was almost seven fifteen. I called Andrew’s number up on
my list of most recently called numbers and pressed the green
telephone symbol.
Almost immediately I heard a sound like an old fashioned
telephone bell. Assuming that Andy must be somewhere close by, I
looked around for him but couldn’t see him. Dee looked around, too,
clearly as puzzled as I was. The ringing stopped and my call went
to voice mail. It was definitely his phone which we had heard
ringing.
I rang the number again and we listened carefully. The tone
seemed to be coming from underneath the bridge. Dee looked through
the steel grating that formed the walkway and saw the phone
lighting up with each ring. She caught her breath and pointed at
it. I rang off and, kneeling down, I looked more closely. The phone
was lying on debris at the bridge parapet, just inches away from
the muddy water which was splashing around down there. Dee held my
jacket as I climbed over the guard rails and stood on the exposed
muddy bank. I had to hold onto the bridge to avoid slipping into
the quicksand-like mud in the basin. I picked up the mobile phone
from amongst the stones. It was dirty but it appeared largely
undamaged. I was checking that it was still working when another
Thames Clipper passed about fifteen metres away and the wash pushed
river water into the basin, washing over my feet and soaking my
socks and shoes. I swore loudly. Then I thought I saw something in
the muddy morass.
As the river water washed over the mud I was sure I saw a face
appear just below the surface, but then the water withdrew like a
receding wave and the face was gone. I was convinced that I must
have imagined it, until I noticed the toe of a brown shoe breaking
the surface of the mud just a few metres away. I didn’t want to
believe what I knew must be true.
I climbed back onto the bridge and told Dee what I had seen.
She looked into my eyes.
“ Is it Andrew?” she asked.
“ I hope not, but it does seem to be rather too much of a
coincidence,” I replied, feeling a depth of sadness that surprised
me.
Dee dialled the number for Inspector Boniface and twenty
minutes later we heard the River Police boat approaching, sirens
blaring.
***
An hour later the body had been recovered from the mud before
the tide could come in and sweep it away. I unofficially confirmed
it was Andrew, and Dee nodded her agreement as I spoke. The
official identification would be done by Charlotte later, after the
body had been cleaned and a cause of death had been
established.
Dee and I were sitting in a police transporter with Inspector
Boniface.
“ Josh, this is outside my jurisdiction, it’s a job for the Met
boys, so be wary. Remember, you have a motive and also opportunity,
so you are bound to be questioned.”
“ I have Dee as an alibi,” I responded, feeling mildly annoyed
that anyone would consider me a suspect in Andrew’s
death.
“ I understand that, Josh, but...” he looked at Dee. “....Ms
Conrad was heard threatening Andrew less than twenty four hours
ago. I’m just warning you both to be prepared for some hard
questioning. Now, I’m going to take you both back to the City
Police HQ. I’ve told the investigating
popular restaurants were within a stone’s throw of where we stood.
We walked along the South Bank in the direction of Butler’s Wharf
and the stylish post-modern pedestrian bridge. There was no sign of
Andrew, but it was only just after seven, so we agreed to give him
until seven fifteen before calling him.
We stood on the bridge for a while, taking in the fresh air
and just talking. I explained how the Shad Thames area had turned
from a derelict warehouse district into a thriving community
occupied by aspirational professionals. As I looked around, I
noticed that many of the businesses and buildings which we could
see housed companies which were in our company insurance
portfolio.
Dee was becoming concerned, and suggested that we call Andrew.
By now it was almost seven fifteen. I called Andrew’s number up on
my list of most recently called numbers and pressed the green
telephone symbol.
Almost immediately I heard a sound like an old fashioned
telephone bell. Assuming that Andy must be somewhere close by, I
looked around for him but couldn’t see him. Dee looked around, too,
clearly as puzzled as I was. The ringing stopped and my call went
to voice mail. It was definitely his phone which we had heard
ringing.
I rang the number again and we listened carefully. The tone
seemed to be coming from underneath the bridge. Dee looked through
the steel grating that formed the walkway and saw the phone
lighting up with each ring. She caught her breath and pointed at
it. I rang off and, kneeling down, I looked more closely. The phone
was lying on debris at the bridge parapet, just inches away from
the muddy water which was splashing around down there. Dee held my
jacket as I climbed over the guard rails and stood on the exposed
muddy bank. I had to hold onto the bridge to avoid slipping into
the quicksand-like mud in the basin. I picked up the mobile phone
from amongst the stones. It was dirty but it appeared largely
undamaged. I was checking that it was still working when another
Thames Clipper passed about fifteen metres away and the wash pushed
river water into the basin, washing over my feet and soaking my
socks and shoes. I swore loudly. Then I thought I saw something in
the muddy morass.
As the river water washed over the mud I was sure I saw a face
appear just below the surface, but then the water withdrew like a
receding wave and the face was gone. I was convinced that I must
have imagined it, until I noticed the toe of a brown shoe breaking
the surface of the mud just a few metres away. I didn’t want to
believe what I knew must be true.
I climbed back onto the bridge and told Dee what I had seen.
She looked into my eyes.
“ Is it Andrew?” she asked.
“ I hope not, but it does seem to be rather too much of a
coincidence,” I replied, feeling a depth of sadness that surprised
me.
Dee dialled the number for Inspector Boniface and twenty
minutes later we heard the River Police boat approaching, sirens
blaring.
***
An hour later the body had been recovered from the mud before
the tide could come in and sweep it away. I unofficially confirmed
it was Andrew, and Dee nodded her agreement as I spoke. The
official identification would be done by Charlotte later, after the
body had been cleaned and a cause of death had been
established.
Dee and I were sitting in a police transporter with Inspector
Boniface.
“ Josh, this is outside my jurisdiction, it’s a job for the Met
boys, so be wary. Remember, you have a motive and also opportunity,
so you are bound to be questioned.”
“ I have Dee as an alibi,” I responded, feeling mildly annoyed
that anyone would consider me a suspect in Andrew’s
death.
“ I understand that, Josh, but...” he looked at Dee. “....Ms
Conrad was heard threatening Andrew less than twenty four hours
ago. I’m just warning you both to be prepared for some hard
questioning. Now, I’m going to take you both back to the City
Police HQ. I’ve told the investigating
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