Read Online Irrefutable Evidence: A Crime Thriller by David George Clarke - Free Book Online

The click of the magnetic lock sounded brutally loud in the silence of the hotel but it made no difference: Henry hadn’t moved.
    After carefully taking off Henry’s clothes, she left them on the end of the bed. She had no plans to try to dress him again – dressing an unconscious man was considerably more difficult than undressing him and there was always a risk that he might rouse from his slumbers. When he found his clothes, Henry would assume that he’d been compos mentis enough to undress.
    She had none of her own clothing with her since she was confident from the lack of any noise from other rooms that even the Korean businessmen were asleep, so there was little risk in skipping down the corridor to her own room in her underwear. If she did happen to bump into one of them, she’d wink at him and disappear into her room, leaving him with a tale to tell that would most likely be put down to a vivid, booze-induced imagination.
    After one final check around the room, Amelia put Henry’s key card on the desk and opened the door. Once she’d shut it, there was no returning.
     
    Half an hour soaking in a steaming bath left Amelia feeling relaxed and delighted with her night’s work. One hooker fewer on the streets of Nottingham — the girl was scum to her, not worth another thought — and one public figure about to fall spectacularly from grace. She lay in the water, luxuriating in its heat as she ran through everything in her mind. It had been a truly professional job. Henry Silk would soon have the full force of the law bearing down on him, and with no alibi and a mountain of evidence to implicate him, there was little chance of anything he said being believed. She had set up his destruction, as she had with others previously, but this fish was bigger. All she had to do now was sit back and watch him being reeled in, twitching and jerking like a man on the end of a noose. But unlike a man in his death throes, Henry Silk would suffer the degradation she had created for him for as long as she chose, after which she might consider mercy. That his life would become a living nightmare gave her a sense of satisfaction like no other.

 
    C hapter 9
    Monday 2 June, 9 a.m.
    T he receptionist at the Old Nottingham Hotel was the same bored twenty-year-old who had checked in the mousey Amelia Taverner the previous Friday. However, after a weekend experimenting with some new tablets her boyfriend had bought, she would have found it difficult to describe Amelia even if her life depended on it.
    Jennifer walked round the reception desk to the girl’s side and gave her a reassuring smile — the girl had looked immediately furtive when she and Derek Thyme had announced they were police officers. “Was it you I spoke to earlier on the phone, Sheryl?” she asked, reading the receptionist’s name badge.
    “No,” said the girl, “I was a bit late this morning.” She glanced sheepishly in the direction of what Jennifer assumed was the manager’s office. “It would have been Denise you spoke to. She covered for me till I got here.”
    “Hectic weekend?” asked Jennifer, noting a residual glassiness in the girl’s pupils.
    “Yeah, I—” Sheryl stopped as she remembered who Jennifer was. “Yeah,” she repeated less enthusiastically, and looked down.
    “Don’t worry, Sheryl, I won’t let on,” said Jennifer.
    Sheryl was suddenly defensive. “Let on what?”
    Jennifer waited a beat before continuing.
    “I can see it in your eyes. Whatever it was you were taking, it was strong, and having seen a lot of users, I can assure you it will be addling your brain.”
    “Don’t know what you mean. I’ve not done nothing.”
    “As I said, Sheryl, I’m not here to find out about your weekend. I need some info about one of your guests. His name is Henry Silk. A regular, I think.”
    Suddenly Sheryl was only too pleased to help. She needed to keep this cop onside, but she was also concerned that the police were interested in