Clean Break Read Online Free PDF Page B

past midnight. When the hostess opened the door, I smiled. “Good evening,” I said. “We’re with Trevor Kerr,” I added.
    The frosting on her immaculate coiffure spilled over on to the hostess’s smile. “Do come in,” she said.
    The man who’d been hovering in the hall behind her stepped forward and said, “I’m Trevor Kerr.” He signalled with his eyebrows towards the stairs and we followed him up into a den that looked like it had been bought clock, stock and panel from a country house. The only incongruity was the computer and fax machine smack in the middle of the desk. “We won’t be disturbed here,” he said. “It’ll be at least half an hour before the host distributes the clues and we move off. Perhaps your friend would like to go downstairs and help himself to the buffet?”
    I could hear Richard’s hackles rising. “Mr. Barclay is a valued associate of Mortensen and Brannigan. Anything you say is safe with him,” I said stiffly. I dreaded to think how many people Richard could upset at a Round Table potluck buffet.
    â€œThat’s right,” he drawled. “I’m not just scenery.”
    Kerr looked uncomfortable but he wasn’t really in a position to argue. As he settled himself in an armchair, we studied each other. Not even a hand-stitched suit could hide a body gone ruinously to seed. I was tempted to offer some fashion advice, but I didn’t think he’d welcome the news that this year bellies are being worn inside the trousers. He couldn’t have been much more than forty, but his eyes would have been the envy of any self-respecting bloodhound
and his jowls would have set a bulldog a-quiver. The only attractive feature the man possessed was a head of thick, wavy brown hair with a faint silvering at the temples.
    â€œWell, Mr. Kerr?” I said.
    He cleared his throat and said, “I run Kerrchem. You probably haven’t heard of us, but we’re quite a large concern. We’ve got a big plant out at Farnworth. We manufacture industrial cleaning materials, and we do one or two domestic products for supermarket own-brands. We pride ourselves on being a family business. Anyway, about a month ago, I got a letter in the post at home. As far as I can remember, it said I could avoid Kerrchem ending up with the same reputation as Tylenol for a very modest sum of money.”
    â€œProduct tampering,” Richard said sagely.
    Kerr nodded. “That’s what I took it to mean.”
    â€œYou said: ‘as far as I can remember,’” I remarked. “Does that mean you haven’t got the note?”
    Kerr scowled. “That’s right. I thought it was some crank. It looked ridiculous, all those letters cut out of a newspaper and Sellotaped down. I binned it. You can’t blame me for that,” he whined.
    â€œNo one’s blaming you, Mr. Kerr. It’s just a pity you didn’t keep the note. Has something happened since then to make you think they were serious?”
    Kerr looked away and pulled a fat cigar from his inside pocket. As he went through the performance of lighting it, Richard leaned forward in his seat. “A man has died since then, hasn’t he, Mr. Kerr?” I was impressed. I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, but I was impressed.
    A plume of acrid blue smoke obscured Kerr’s eyes as he said, “Technically, yes. But there’s no evidence that there’s any connection.”
    â€œA man dies after opening a sealed container of your products, you’ve had a blackmail note and you don’t believe there’s a connection?” Richard asked, with only mild incredulity.
    I could see mischief dancing behind his glasses, so I thought I’d better head this off at the pass. Any minute now, Richard would
decide to start enjoying himself, completely oblivious to the fact that not everyone has the blithe