Read Online Chelsea Mansions by Barry Maitland - Free Book Online Page B

on his face.

    There were press and TV cameras outside when they opened the front door, throwing a dazzling light in their faces. The night air was filled with a hubbub of shouted questions. The crowd parted reluctantly as they pushed through to the gate across the street and the relative calm of the crime scene.
    ‘Sorry,’ Kathy said. ‘I almost lost it with Hadden-Vane.’
    ‘You did fine,’ Brock said.
    ‘I wanted to hit him.’
    ‘That I would have liked to see . . . oh.’ A wave of nausea and dizziness suddenly overwhelmed him and he stopped and bent over, bracing his hands on his knees.
    ‘You all right?’
    ‘Dizzy.’ There was a bench nearby in the shadows, and he stumbled towards it and slumped down. ‘Hot,’ he muttered. ‘Is it me or is it very hot?’
    The local CID man came towards them. ‘Everything okay?’
    ‘My boss isn’t well,’ Kathy said, sitting down beside Brock. He felt her cool hand on his brow and heard her intake of breath. ‘I think I’d better get him to a doctor.’
    ‘No . . .’ Brock objected, but he found it suddenly hard to frame the words.
    ‘We’ve got one here.’ The detective strode away and returned a minute later with a figure shrouded in a blue paper crime scene suit. He was the local forensic physician, who’d just completed a preliminary examination of Moszynski’s body. Now he unfastened his bag and checked Brock’s temperature and pulse. He asked Kathy and Brock a few questions and then said, ‘Looks like influenza, maybe swine flu. Have you been immunised?’ Brock shook his head. ‘He shouldn’t be at work,’ the doctor said. ‘Get him home to bed now and contact his GP in the morning.’ He searched around in his bag and said, ‘You’re in luck.’ He pulled out a packet of Tamiflu tablets. ‘These will ease the symptoms.’
    ‘Come on,’ Kathy said to Brock. ‘I’ll take you home.’
    ‘No,’ he croaked. ‘I’ll get a cab. You stay here. You’re senior investigating officer now.’
    ‘Take him home,’ the detective said. ‘There’s not much you can do till morning. You’ll need to be fresh then. I’ll ring you if there’s any results from CCTV.’
    ‘You’re interviewing people in the square?’
    ‘Of course, all under control.’
    Kathy turned to the doctor. ‘Anything you can tell us?’
    ‘I’d put time of death at two to four hours ago, three puncture wounds to the heart, narrow blade, neat grouping, very precise.’
    Brock heard their discussion as if through a blanket. ‘Like an exercise in fencing school,’ he whispered.
    Kathy put a hand under his arm and said, ‘Come on.’ As he got groggily to his feet he heard the detective chuckle. ‘He’s probably given it to all our witnesses. See if you can spread it among the press on your way out.’
    They avoided the crowd around Chelsea Mansions and reached Kathy’s car parked in the next street.
    As he pulled the belt across his chest he gathered his breath and said, ‘Sorry, Kathy. Came on so fast. Feel so bloody helpless.’
    ‘A friend of Nicole’s caught it, said it was like being poleaxed.’ She opened the packet of pills and gave him one with a bottle of water she had in the car. ‘One a day,’ she said, and started the engine.
    Brock was silent for a while, his eyes closed, trying to think, and then, as they were crossing Chelsea Bridge, he said, ‘This is going to be big, Kathy. Did you hear what the press were shouting? Litvinenko . They think it’s another political killing. MI5 will be involved, the Foreign Office . . .’
    ‘Yes of course, I understand that.’ She paused. ‘You think it’s too big for me?’
    ‘Not the detective work, no, but the politics is something else.’ He coughed and tried to put some force into his words. She had to understand. ‘Sharpe will feel obliged to appoint a more senior SIO. Probably Dick Chivers.’
    ‘Superintendent Chivers,’ Kathy sighed. ‘Oh.’
    ‘Yes. He’s got his own team. It