Read Online Murder at Swann's Lake by Sally Spencer - Free Book Online

British authorities treat us, the murmur seemed to saying. We are not even to be allowed to get near our own embassy.
    â€œFan out,” one of the organisers was shouting through his megaphone. “Form a line to face the police. But make sure you are at least ten feet away from them.”
    Ten feet! Maria thought. That was no distance at all! But if that was what was necessary, then that was what they would have to do.
    The protestors’ line, though more ragged than the one maintained by the police, was soon in place. Maria ran her eyes over the policemen’s faces. Some of the officers had their expressions set in grim concentration, others – mostly the younger ones – seemed a little frightened.
    â€˜We’re not used to protests in London,’
Bob had said.
‘We’re not trained to handle them. And that could spell trouble.’
    She could feel the people behind pressing against her – not aggressively, but relentlessly – and it took all her effort to hold her position. It had been agreed they would stand in silence, but from further back she could hear ugly taunts being shouted. She wished the organisers would get it over with quickly. Wished they would try to deliver their letter, then everyone could go home.
    One of the policemen suddenly lifted his hands in front of his face. At first, Maria couldn’t understand why. And then – with sudden horrified realisation – she did. A brick! Someone in the crowd had had the criminal stupidity to throw a brick!
    As if it had been the signal for a general outbreak, bricks and bottles were suddenly raining down on the police line from all directions.
    â€œNo!” Maria shouted. “No! It wasn’t meant to be like this!”
    The policemen had had their arms linked, but now they broke free of each other. Some held their hands up to protect themselves – others were already drawing their truncheons.
    It was the clatter of the horses’ hooves which started the panic. The huge animals edged their way into the crowd, and immediately people began to scream, to push – to lose all control. Some of the demonstrators stumbled and fell. Then others tripped over them, landing in a heap of struggling arms and legs which didn’t look like people at all.
    Maria no longer had her placard, though she’d no idea where she’d lost it. She heard the girl next to her call out to God for help, and knew that would do no good – they could only help themselves. She saw a young policeman, his truncheon drawn and his face ablaze with hatred, heading towards her particular section of the chaos. She somehow managed to pull herself free, so that she was standing right in front of him.
    â€œLeave us alone!” she begged. “Please!”
    With one hand the constable grabbed her roughly by the hair. With the other, he swung his truncheon. Maria had a split second of absolute terror – and then everything went black.
    Sid Dowd was sitting at a table in the members’ bar of a golf club which wouldn’t even have taken him on as a caddy twenty years earlier. A newspaper was spread out in front of him, and he didn’t look pleased.
    â€œThere’s not as much about Robbie’s murder in today’s paper as there was in yesterday’s, Phil,” he said to the hard young man in the smart blue suit who had been waiting patiently to be addressed, “but it’s still not good.”
    â€œNo, Mr Dowd,” the young man admitted. “It’s still not good.”
    â€œI made a mistake sendin’ you up to the club on Saturday night,” Dowd said. “I should have been playin’ things much more cautiously. But how was I to know the way things would turn out?”
    â€œNo way in the world, Mr Dowd,” Phil assured him.
    â€œDo you think many people will have noticed you?”
    â€œMost of the club,” Phil confessed. “You see, the steward