Deception Read Online Free PDF Page A

two T-shirts, a pair of trainers and a slim washbag. Nothing in the side pockets and nothing under the baseboard.
    â€˜You’ve no right going through that,’ Pike muttered without looking at him. ‘It’s private.’
    â€˜You’re right,’ said Harry quietly. ‘And a private is what you’re going to be as soon as they bust you for going AWOL, theft of military equipment and assault with a deadly weapon. Where were you going?’
    â€˜I don’t have to answer that.’
    â€˜No, you don’t. But it’ll help if you do. You have a wallet?’
    Pike reached round and took out a thin leather wallet, handed it over. It contained a Visa credit card, driving licence, a family group photo and a mix of sterling and euro banknotes to the tune of £300. On the back of the photo was a telephone number.
    â€˜If I rang this, who would answer?’
    â€˜Nobody. It’s discontinued.’
    Harry handed his mobile and the photo to Sergeant Wallace, who dialled the number. After a short wait he looked up and shook his head. ‘Unobtainable.’ He returned the phone and photo.
    â€˜We know you’ve been overseas for a while, Neville. Can I call you Neville?’
    Pike shrugged. ‘Break your neck.’
    â€˜You were in Sydney, then Thailand, we know that. Where else?’
    â€˜Helmand. That do you? Now fuck off and leave me in peace.’ He lay back and stared at the ceiling.
    Harry drew up a chair and sat alongside him. Wallace stood the other side, tall and imposing. The silence lengthened, broken only by the pink of the heating system and the squeak of shoes on tiles along the corridor outside. Pike ignored both men, but a strong pulse was beating in his throat.
    â€˜Were you approached by anyone while you were away?’
    No reaction. Harry wondered about Pike’s background. The slip of paper hadn’t said, but it was obvious the NCO was no idiot. At a guess he’d been to university or technical college, maybe even through industry, before joining the army. His voice and speech were middle class, even if his language wasn’t.
    â€˜How did you support yourself for the last three months? Did you have help?’
    Still nothing.
    â€˜Man like you, you’d be a valuable commodity to some people  . . . all the knowledge you’ve got in your head. We know there’s a market out there, and buyers. If you spoke to anyone, you really don’t want us finding out later on. It would help your case if you said so now. Who approached you?’
    â€˜Nobody approached me, so leave me alone.’ Pike spoke through clenched teeth. He was clearly hiding something. Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to talk about it here.
    Harry took out a card and slid it into Pike’s hand. It carried his name and a telephone number. ‘Please yourself. My name’s Harry. If you change your mind and want to talk, get them to give me a call.’
    Harry walked outside and took a short cut through the hospital car park towards the road where he’d left his car, his thoughts on what Pike could have been doing in Clapham. The man had been virtually home and dry, if what Ballatyne had said was true. All he had to do was horse-trade some information in return for a new identity and a new life, away from whatever had driven him to go AWOL in the first place. So, with no family ties and no baggage, why had he come back?
    Then a thought struck him. Baggage. Pike’s room had been clean. After five days cooped up in a single room, wouldn’t there have been some rubbish?
    He stepped back as a grey estate car drifted down the street and swung into the visitors’ car park right in front of him. The two men inside gave him a steady look as they passed. They wore the air of two individuals going about their duty, rather than visiting the sick, and Harry pegged them as police.
    He watched them go, then dialled Ballatyne’s