Read Online Ten Days by Gillian Slovo - Free Book Online

showed off her bronzed skin to its best advantage. He wanted to compliment her on it but no need: she’d clocked his appreciative regard and it made her smile.
    â€˜I was thinking of ringing you,’ he said.
    â€˜Your wife beat you to it.’
    â€˜My wife?’
    â€˜Your mobile’s off.’
    He took it from his pocket – ‘Oh yes, so it is’ – and switched it on, and as it loaded he saw three missed calls from Frances. ‘Did she say what she wanted?’
    â€˜To tell you that the PM’s going to be on at 7.15.’
    Of course he was. Trying to steal Peter’s thunder.
    â€˜She thinks they might be planning to ambush him with his latest legalise drugs obsession. She says you should hear it live in case you’re rung for comment.’ Patricia indicated a folder she must just have placed on his desk. ‘I’ve digested the salient facts. The Dutch example’s telling. And the rake-offs of the Colorado and Washington dispensaries should cause some alarm.’
    First Frances and now Patricia: his women were certainly coming through for him. ‘That’s extremely helpful.’ He cleared his throat. ‘But now I think I’d better ring . . .’
    â€˜. . . your wife. Yes, Home Secretary. I’ll leave you to it.’ She was smiling as she passed him by.
    The scent she gave off was redolent of spring flowers that would long ago have wilted in this heat. Hope she didn’t think the stench that must be coming off him was his. ‘Oh, and Patricia?’
    â€˜Yes?’ The way she looked at him: she was such a coquette!
    â€˜Might be worth turning your keen eye on our new Commissioner. Background. Connections. That type of thing.’
    â€˜Of course.’ She was all business. ‘Anything in particular?’
    â€˜Not sure. He was vetted, naturally, but I think there might have been something missed. Sniff around: see, for starters, if you can find anything about his relationship with the PM. Something peculiar there which might be . . .’ – how should he put it – ‘be . . .’
    â€˜Helpful,’ she said. ‘Of course.’ She slipped out of the room, softly, as she always did.
    10 a.m.
    The heavy tread that Joshua Yares had been keeping half an ear out for caused him to raise his head. ‘Anil? Would you mind stepping in for a moment?’
    â€˜Of course.’ Deputy Commissioner Anil Chahda, highest-ranking ethnic officer in the British police, retraced his steps and walked into Joshua’s office. ‘How can I help?’
    Joshua gestured at the sofas that stood at one end of his vast office.
    Chahda was broad with a bullish head, wide shoulders and a stocky frame, and when he sat down on the sofa he seemed to take up the whole of it.
    â€˜How can I be of assistance?’
    â€˜I gather there’s been a death?’ Joshua paused, expecting a response, but when nothing came he said, ‘In Rockham.’
    â€˜Ah,’ an intake of breath. ‘That death. Unfortunate. Male. IC3. Record of mental instability – officers have been called to his home on several previous occasions. On this occasion a member of the public reported that the man was wielding a weapon in a public place.’
    â€˜I understand that sections in the community dispute this version. They say the man posed no danger and that the police were not in fact called?’
    â€˜I can’t answer to that, sir.’ Chahda shrugged. ‘I’m merely reporting what the IPCC has said.’
    â€˜And I have also been told that there was an earlier incident involving this same man and an officer?’
    â€˜You’re ahead of me on that as well, sir. All I have been told is that the officers who attended called for back-up after the man became violent. It took eight officers to restrain him – others held back members of the public who had become emotional –