Body Politic Read Online Free PDF

“There is no need for names. Citizen Dalrymple’s point is taken.”
    I sat back as the discussion turned to the danger of tourist volumes being affected if the murder was publicised. I couldn’t see the Chinese being too bothered. Beijing became a Dantean pit of underworld activity in the years following the country’s economic expansion. The Greeks weren’t likely to object either. Since the discovery of oil in the Aegean twenty years ago, they’ve acquired a crime rate worse than those of Chicago and New York put together.
    I found myself remembering the metaphor of the body politic, which had been a favourite propaganda device in the early years of the Council. It was probably one of my father’s ideas. The ordinary citizens were the body of the city-state, while the guardians were its heart and brain and the auxiliaries its eyes and ears. But what if the heart was growing weary and the mind was no longer reliable? What if the eyes no longer provided 20-20 vision and the ears heard only what they wanted to hear?
    The debate finally drew to a close and the deputy senior guardian looked at me. “So, citizen, we will expect a report from you every evening in person.”
    I didn’t want them to think I was too much of a pushover. “And if I choose to remain with the Parks Department? No doubt the public order guardian would prefer that.”
    The speaker’s expression froze. “I would remind you that this is a matter of the utmost importance, not just for the Council but for the whole city. You are not being given a choice, citizen. Failure to obey this instruction would have a very detrimental effect on the private investigation activities you pursue in your free time.” The threatening tone was at odds with the guardian’s white hair and wrinkled face, but I knew it was real enough. They let me trace missing people because auxiliaries have plenty of other work to do. I’ve even done the guard a good turn occasionally by letting them know about minor illegalities I turned up. But if I got on the wrong side of the Council, that would count for about as much as kids in one of the city’s schools saying they hadn’t done their homework because they reckoned Plato was irrelevant to the modern world.
    So I shrugged and accepted the job without showing how interested I was. Rule one: never show your clients that you’re fascinated by their case.
    â€œVery well. The public order guardian will take you to the scene of the crime.”
    â€œOne small point,” I said. “I’ve got an offence notification for tomorrow morning.” I heard Hamilton snort derisively and wished I’d picked up a few more public order violations. He might have ruptured himself.
    â€œThat is waived,” the speaker said, without hesitation. “Citizen, I notice your watch has stopped. Never mind that you’re breaking regulations, how do you expect to conduct a murder enquiry without a serviceable time-piece?”
    I liked her turn of phrase. If I’d closed my eyes, I could almost have believed I was in a Sherlock Holmes story. “I’ll get one, guardian,” I said and turned to leave. “Without a moment’s delay.”
    The public order guardian overtook me on the stairs and went over to a pair of auxiliaries in civilian clothes. He looked almost as imposing as he imagined he did in the tweed jacket and corduroy trousers worn exclusively by members of his rank, the brogues on his feet shining like a schoolboy’s prize chestnuts.
    â€œHurry up, Dalrymple,” he said over his shoulder. “This isn’t a Sunday outing.”
    â€œWhere’s the body?” I asked in an even voice.
    â€œThe body?” he repeated, his eyes fixed on a point several inches to the right of my face. “We aren’t going to see the body. Weren’t you listening to the speaker? I’m taking you to the scene of the