Read Online Martin King and the Space Angels (Martin King Series) by James McGovern - Free Book Online
Authors: James McGovern
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plan. But I was wondering… you know those Deceiving Necklaces you gave us…’
Martin explained his newly-formed plan to Mr Slater, and the alien teacher’s eyes twinkled.
‘That is certainly possible,’ he said. ‘And it just might work.’
*
The streetlamps glowed in the growing fog. Since the storms, the streetlamps in Britain had been permanently lit to ensure constant visibility. A police car was parked at the side of the road.
Three police officers stepped out of the car; the fourth officer remained in the driver’s seat. They made their way towards a large house. The odd glint of lightning cast light over their middle-aged features.
The three officers reached a tall black security gate, flanked on either side by stone pillars. The tallest officer rang the doorbell and they waited.
‘Hello?’ The voice from the intercom had a deep American accent.
‘Harvey Longfellow?’ said the tallest officer. ‘We’re from Scotland Yard. Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?’
‘Certainly. I’ll open the gate. Hang on a second.’
The electronic gates opened with the whirr of a motor. The police officers stepped over the threshold and crunched along gravel towards the house.
A door opened as they reached it, and light poured out into the misty morning. Harvey Longfellow smiled at the officers. His hair was neatly-combed, and he was wearing a business suit. He was overweight, and his skin was pale and rough.
‘I am going out in an hour or so, sirs,’ said the businessman, smiling, ‘but what can I do for you?’
‘We’re sorry to bother you, sir’ said the tallest officer, ‘but we have quite a sensitive matter to discuss with you. My name is Sergeant Martin King, and my colleagues are Constable Darcy Williams and Constable Tommy Walker. Do you mind if we come in?’
‘Not at all, gentlemen—lady,’ said Harvey.
The three police officers followed Harvey into his home. Martin was grateful that his thick police tunic masked the heavy beating of his heart. In actual fact, neither Martin nor his friends were wearing police uniforms. They were still wearing their own casual clothes. But they were wearing Deceiving Necklaces; Mr Slater had reprogrammed them to create the illusion that the teenagers were middle-aged police officers.
‘Have a seat,’ said Harvey, as they sat down. ‘Can I offer you a drink?’
‘No thanks,’ said Tommy.
Martin glanced around the inside of Harvey’s living room. It was large and grand, and filled with expensive furniture. A Picasso hung above the fireplace.
‘Now gentlemen—lady—what is it that you wanted to ask me?’
‘We understand, Mr Longfellow, that you own a significant collection of rare exhibits.’
‘My museum is second to none. But what is it that interests you about it?’
Martin took a deep breath. So far, so good. But this was where the real plan came into action.
‘We have had a report of a robbery,’ said Martin. ‘And we have reason to believe that you purchased a similar item at auction recently.’
Harvey’s face was inscrutable. ‘I purchase lots of things at auction.’
‘You must understand that we’re not accusing you of anything,’ said Darcy, ‘but it would help our investigation if we could take a look at the object for ourselves.’
Mr Longfellow hesitated; then he smiled. ‘Why not? Come with me. Come and see my museum!’
Harvey led the three teenagers to an ornate staircase, and they followed him down into the darkness.
The plan was simple yet audacious. They knew that Harvey was a dishonest man. Therefore, it seemed likely that he wasn’t too concerned about the sources of his purchases. Also, a man with such a shady history was probably eager to avoid any police scrutiny. All they needed to do was convince Harvey that his Monograph was a stolen artefact and get him to hand it over.
They reached the bottom of the stairs, and Harvey pulled a heavy switch. Light after light flickered on.
Martin explained his newly-formed plan to Mr Slater, and the alien teacher’s eyes twinkled.
‘That is certainly possible,’ he said. ‘And it just might work.’
*
The streetlamps glowed in the growing fog. Since the storms, the streetlamps in Britain had been permanently lit to ensure constant visibility. A police car was parked at the side of the road.
Three police officers stepped out of the car; the fourth officer remained in the driver’s seat. They made their way towards a large house. The odd glint of lightning cast light over their middle-aged features.
The three officers reached a tall black security gate, flanked on either side by stone pillars. The tallest officer rang the doorbell and they waited.
‘Hello?’ The voice from the intercom had a deep American accent.
‘Harvey Longfellow?’ said the tallest officer. ‘We’re from Scotland Yard. Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?’
‘Certainly. I’ll open the gate. Hang on a second.’
The electronic gates opened with the whirr of a motor. The police officers stepped over the threshold and crunched along gravel towards the house.
A door opened as they reached it, and light poured out into the misty morning. Harvey Longfellow smiled at the officers. His hair was neatly-combed, and he was wearing a business suit. He was overweight, and his skin was pale and rough.
‘I am going out in an hour or so, sirs,’ said the businessman, smiling, ‘but what can I do for you?’
‘We’re sorry to bother you, sir’ said the tallest officer, ‘but we have quite a sensitive matter to discuss with you. My name is Sergeant Martin King, and my colleagues are Constable Darcy Williams and Constable Tommy Walker. Do you mind if we come in?’
‘Not at all, gentlemen—lady,’ said Harvey.
The three police officers followed Harvey into his home. Martin was grateful that his thick police tunic masked the heavy beating of his heart. In actual fact, neither Martin nor his friends were wearing police uniforms. They were still wearing their own casual clothes. But they were wearing Deceiving Necklaces; Mr Slater had reprogrammed them to create the illusion that the teenagers were middle-aged police officers.
‘Have a seat,’ said Harvey, as they sat down. ‘Can I offer you a drink?’
‘No thanks,’ said Tommy.
Martin glanced around the inside of Harvey’s living room. It was large and grand, and filled with expensive furniture. A Picasso hung above the fireplace.
‘Now gentlemen—lady—what is it that you wanted to ask me?’
‘We understand, Mr Longfellow, that you own a significant collection of rare exhibits.’
‘My museum is second to none. But what is it that interests you about it?’
Martin took a deep breath. So far, so good. But this was where the real plan came into action.
‘We have had a report of a robbery,’ said Martin. ‘And we have reason to believe that you purchased a similar item at auction recently.’
Harvey’s face was inscrutable. ‘I purchase lots of things at auction.’
‘You must understand that we’re not accusing you of anything,’ said Darcy, ‘but it would help our investigation if we could take a look at the object for ourselves.’
Mr Longfellow hesitated; then he smiled. ‘Why not? Come with me. Come and see my museum!’
Harvey led the three teenagers to an ornate staircase, and they followed him down into the darkness.
The plan was simple yet audacious. They knew that Harvey was a dishonest man. Therefore, it seemed likely that he wasn’t too concerned about the sources of his purchases. Also, a man with such a shady history was probably eager to avoid any police scrutiny. All they needed to do was convince Harvey that his Monograph was a stolen artefact and get him to hand it over.
They reached the bottom of the stairs, and Harvey pulled a heavy switch. Light after light flickered on.
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