thing..." she added tentatively.
"I know. No bike. We'll get a
taxi."
Fenton got out of the shower
and towelled down. His body still bore signs of the tan that he had
acquired during the summer and frequent exercise in the form of
squash and running had kept the flab of sedentary occupation at
bay. Wrapping the towel round his waist he padded through to the
bedroom and opened the sliding wardrobe. He laid out his clothes on
the bed, a plain blue shirt, navy socks, black shoes, dark blue
tie, dark blue suit. He shrugged his shoulders as he put on the
jacket and looked at himself in the mirror to straighten his tie.
He flicked at his hair with his fingers but there was little he
could do about it. It was curly and unruly and that was that. Dark
curls licked along his forehead taking five years off his age.
Fiddling with his cuff links, he walked through to join Jenny.
Jenny was sitting at an angle
on the sofa, her stockinged legs crossed and her elbow resting on
one knee with her hand supporting her chin. She was wearing a close
fitting dress in royal blue, the very plainness of which
accentuated her smooth skin and high cheek bones. Her silky blonde
hair was swept back from her face and held tightly with a dark blue
clasp. Round her neck she wore the gold pear drop locket that
Fenton had given her for Christmas.
"You look good," said
Fenton.
"You're no slouch yourself Mr
Bond. Did you call the cab?"
A thick sea mist lay on the
still water of the Firth of Forth as they got out of the taxi in
the village of South Queensferry, some eight miles from the heart
of Edinburgh. The lights of cars high above them on the Forth Road
Bridge twinkled in and out of the fog while the huge, red painted
spans of the famous old railway bridge towered silently up into the
damp air. The regular drone of fog horns was the only thing to
break the silence as they crossed the road to look over the sea
wall.
"It's creepy when it's like
this," said Jenny looking down at the unbroken surface of the
water.
"But nice," said Fenton.
They entered the bar of the
restaurant to find it practically deserted. "Thursday night," said
the barman by way of explanation. "Nothing happens on
Thursdays."
"Except elections," said Fenton
as he and Jenny were drawn to a large coal fire like moths to a
flame.
They finished looking at the
menu and ordered before lapsing into silence for a few moments.
Jenny held her drink between her palms. She said, "A child died in
theatre yesterday did you hear?"
"I heard," said Fenton, feeling
uncomfortable.
"Do you know anything about
it?" asked Jenny.
Fenton stayed silent.
"Oh dear," said Jenny, I see
that you do.
"Jenny I..."
"Don't say anything. Just
listen. Today at lunch I heard Rose Glynn, mention 'excessive
bleeding' then later I heard someone else say that the haematology
report wasn't available. I put two and two together and came up
with four."
"Three," said Fenton, "Timothy
Watson was the third victim. I felt so awful just now when you
asked and I couldn't tell you."
"Relax, you didn't. I worked it
out for myself. So the killer is not someone with a grudge against
the lab?"
"No, it's someone who murders
five year olds."
Jenny noted the bitterness in
Fenton's voice and was forced to ask. "You didn't know the boy did
you?"
"Well enough to be able to put
a face to the name. He was running around the main corridor the day
Susan Daniels was murdered."
They left the restaurant just
after ten thirty and crossed the road to take a last look at the
water.Fenton picked up a handful of gravel and began to flick it
idly into the water with his thumbnail. As they leaned on the
railings Jenny said, "You know, when you think about it, it's a
strange way to kill people isn't it? Anti-coagulants?"
"That's how they kill
rats."
"Rats?"
Fenton flicked some more gravel
into the water and watched the rings spread. "That's how rat poison
works. It knocks out the clotting mechanism in their blood; one
scratch in the sewers
"I know. No bike. We'll get a
taxi."
Fenton got out of the shower
and towelled down. His body still bore signs of the tan that he had
acquired during the summer and frequent exercise in the form of
squash and running had kept the flab of sedentary occupation at
bay. Wrapping the towel round his waist he padded through to the
bedroom and opened the sliding wardrobe. He laid out his clothes on
the bed, a plain blue shirt, navy socks, black shoes, dark blue
tie, dark blue suit. He shrugged his shoulders as he put on the
jacket and looked at himself in the mirror to straighten his tie.
He flicked at his hair with his fingers but there was little he
could do about it. It was curly and unruly and that was that. Dark
curls licked along his forehead taking five years off his age.
Fiddling with his cuff links, he walked through to join Jenny.
Jenny was sitting at an angle
on the sofa, her stockinged legs crossed and her elbow resting on
one knee with her hand supporting her chin. She was wearing a close
fitting dress in royal blue, the very plainness of which
accentuated her smooth skin and high cheek bones. Her silky blonde
hair was swept back from her face and held tightly with a dark blue
clasp. Round her neck she wore the gold pear drop locket that
Fenton had given her for Christmas.
"You look good," said
Fenton.
"You're no slouch yourself Mr
Bond. Did you call the cab?"
A thick sea mist lay on the
still water of the Firth of Forth as they got out of the taxi in
the village of South Queensferry, some eight miles from the heart
of Edinburgh. The lights of cars high above them on the Forth Road
Bridge twinkled in and out of the fog while the huge, red painted
spans of the famous old railway bridge towered silently up into the
damp air. The regular drone of fog horns was the only thing to
break the silence as they crossed the road to look over the sea
wall.
"It's creepy when it's like
this," said Jenny looking down at the unbroken surface of the
water.
"But nice," said Fenton.
They entered the bar of the
restaurant to find it practically deserted. "Thursday night," said
the barman by way of explanation. "Nothing happens on
Thursdays."
"Except elections," said Fenton
as he and Jenny were drawn to a large coal fire like moths to a
flame.
They finished looking at the
menu and ordered before lapsing into silence for a few moments.
Jenny held her drink between her palms. She said, "A child died in
theatre yesterday did you hear?"
"I heard," said Fenton, feeling
uncomfortable.
"Do you know anything about
it?" asked Jenny.
Fenton stayed silent.
"Oh dear," said Jenny, I see
that you do.
"Jenny I..."
"Don't say anything. Just
listen. Today at lunch I heard Rose Glynn, mention 'excessive
bleeding' then later I heard someone else say that the haematology
report wasn't available. I put two and two together and came up
with four."
"Three," said Fenton, "Timothy
Watson was the third victim. I felt so awful just now when you
asked and I couldn't tell you."
"Relax, you didn't. I worked it
out for myself. So the killer is not someone with a grudge against
the lab?"
"No, it's someone who murders
five year olds."
Jenny noted the bitterness in
Fenton's voice and was forced to ask. "You didn't know the boy did
you?"
"Well enough to be able to put
a face to the name. He was running around the main corridor the day
Susan Daniels was murdered."
They left the restaurant just
after ten thirty and crossed the road to take a last look at the
water.Fenton picked up a handful of gravel and began to flick it
idly into the water with his thumbnail. As they leaned on the
railings Jenny said, "You know, when you think about it, it's a
strange way to kill people isn't it? Anti-coagulants?"
"That's how they kill
rats."
"Rats?"
Fenton flicked some more gravel
into the water and watched the rings spread. "That's how rat poison
works. It knocks out the clotting mechanism in their blood; one
scratch in the sewers
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