A Time For Justice Read Online Free PDF Page A

and he liked to
keep them at arm’s length - in the house he owned in
Cheshire.
    Karen walked across the small room and sat astride the Chief.
She wriggled provocatively. He gasped again.
    ‘ The biggest crime since Lockerbie,’ she mused, ‘and it’s
happened on our patch. It’s got great potential.’
    ‘ And so have you,’ he breathed. ‘Now c’mon, stop thinking
about it for a while. That’s an order, you scheming little
minnie.’
    She took no notice.
    ‘ Just suppose,’ she pondered out loud, ‘you put me in charge
of the investigation.’ She wriggled.
    ‘ But you’ve only ever done short secondments to CID. You’d be
way out of your depth. And I need someone of at least the rank of
Superintendent to head it.’
    ‘ I’ve given that some consideration,’ she smiled.
    ‘ And ...?’
    ‘ That Detective-Super from commerce branch is on long-term
sick. I could become Acting Superintendent ... and anyway, running
it wouldn’t be that hard. Just a case of being a good manager. It’s
all done by computer these days.’
    Before August had a chance to reply, she kissed him. Wet.
Long. Lots of tongue. She swayed her hard nipples across his chest
then ran her hand his belly, grasping him
firmly.
    ‘ How about it, boss?’ she asked, rising for air. ‘Can I? The
media will love me.’
    August chided himself. He wished he was big enough to say no.
But she was bargaining from a position of strength.
     
     
    ‘ Would you take a fuckin’ look at that, man!’ whistled Agent
Donaldson.
    He dabbed the button on the hand-held remote control and
rewound the video tape taken from one of the overhead cameras on
the M6. Then he played it forwards one frame at a time. Even so,
the explosion was so fast and devastating that the camera didn’t
really take it in. It wasn’t designed to do so.
    In one second the car was moving down the middle
lane.
    In the same second a huge flash filled the screen and the car
was gone, replaced by chaos, death and confusion, with no
discernible gap between the scenarios.
    He and McClure watched it a few more times,
mesmerised.
    The picture quality wasn’t that good. The tape had probably
been reused a million times. But it showed that the car was
definitely a Daimler. And no doubt Danny Carver was in the back of
it.
    The Technical Services Unit would spend time enhancing the
tape. They promised wonderful things. The picture would be made
clear with pin-sharp images and using their electronic wizardry
they’d able to enlarge selected segments of the screen. That way
the number on the registration plate could be read and the faces of
the people in the car might be identified (but don’t hold your
breath, they said). And TSU could also speed up the tape to
‘mega-fast’ (their description) and that way the explosion could be
watched and analysed, conversely, in slow motion, bit by bloody
bit.
    With a phtt the screen on the TV fizzled out to blank, and Donaldson
handed the remote back to the Control Room Inspector.
    He and McClure left the Control Room together and walked
across car park at the front of the headquarters
building.
    ‘ This certainly cocks the job up,’ McClure said.
    ‘ A peculiarly British understatement, I would say,’ remarked
the American. ‘But you’re right, with Carver in pieces I’m back to
square with Corelli - and it was going so damned well.’
    ‘ All may not be lost,’ said McClure airily.
    ‘ How d’ya mean?’
    ‘ Well, if you’re right and this has Corelli’s backing, then
all we need to do is catch the killer, put him under pressure and
we could have a lever to get to Corelli through him.’
    ‘ You make it sound so simple.’
    ‘ What about the guy you saw at the hotel?’
    ‘ A glimpse of someone I may have
recognised isn’t exactly evidence that he’s a killer, even for
British justice.’
    ‘ It’s a start though, so don’t forget that face. Think hard
about it and keep it in your mind’s eye. I’ve got an
idea.’
    ‘