Impeding Justice Read Online Free PDF Page A

What can I do for you? And, why have you barged in here in
this way? Am I under arrest? If so, it can only be because you
British hold me responsible for the high price of petrol!’
    Lorne ignored his dry as the Sahara Desert
humour, ‘Where were you on Tuesday afternoon, sir?’
    His audible gulp spoke volumes. He turned
towards the window.
    ‘ I believe I was here all
day. Of course, I would have to verify this with my diary,’ he
spoke to his reflection, his composure regained.
    Lorne walked over and stood beside him.
    Forcing herself to look out, shock
reverberated through her. He had a bird’s eye view of the Houses of
Parliament! Any thoughts of him possibly being an innocent
bystander dissolved. She looked away stalling the vomit that
threatened to undo her.
    ‘ We would like to see your
diary, sir. Did you have any meetings that day?’
    When she looked back towards him she found
his eyes scrutinising her body. He didn’t attempt to stop doing so
under the scowl she gave him. A cold trickle of unease ran up her
spine. She didn’t let it deter her from staring back at him. If he
thought to demean her in this way, he had another thought coming.
The Met’s hierarchy had tried and failed and they were bloody gold
medallists in the art.
    He shifted his gaze, a small triumph for her,
but enough for her to know he’d taken on board her strength of
character. He made a play of shuffling some papers as he answered
her question, ‘Yes, I am a busy man. My life is a series of
meetings.’
    ‘ We’ll need a list and will
be questioning them all.’
    Looking up at her again, he raised a
quizzical eyebrow imitating Roger Moore in his charming Bond
days.
    Why did the hair on her neck crawl? She could
handle him! Another question, get back on safe ground, ‘What type
of car do you drive, sir?’
    ‘ Take your pick, Inspector.
I am a very wealthy man.’
    ‘ On Tuesday, what car did
you bring to work?’
    ‘ Let me think. Ah, that’s
right my chauffeur brought me in my black Limo. The white one was
in the workshop for a service. I prefer the white model though, so
much more stylish than plain black. So much more, sexier, wouldn’t
you agree?’
    ‘ I’m not really interested
in cars, Mr Abromovski. I tend to see them as a reflection of a
man’s ego.’
    He laughed, ‘Inspector, I am a very busy man,
tell me what this is all about.’
    ‘ Do you own a black four by
four, license plate UNI 123?’
    ‘ Yes, I do…’
    ‘ Did you lend that vehicle
to anybody or notice it missing at all on Tuesday of this
week?’
    Lorne took a couple of steps towards the
retreating Russian. Her purpose, to invade his personal space and
to unnerve him, an old trick her father had taught her at the start
of her career. One of many he’d written in a notebook for her. He
had mastered the art of dealing with unsavoury characters with
something to hide. It worked. Abromovski stepped backwards and
bumped into his chair.
    ‘ No... No… As far as I know
the car remained at my home.’
    The moment of silence she’d allowed cracked
with the sound of her mobile’s high pitched buzz.
    Not taking her eyes off Abromovski she
flipped the lid.
    ‘ Storey, ma-am. I’ve dug up
some stuff on Abromovski. I think you should give him a wide berth
at the moment and get back to base as soon as you can.’
    ‘ Elaborate for
me.’
    ‘ He is already under
surveillance and we could be stepping on some very important
toes.’
    ‘ Right, we're on our
way.’
    Abromovski’s relief materialised in a
smirk.
    ‘ We’ll have to leave it
there, sir, something has come up.’
    Fuck, it sounded bloody feeble. She couldn’t
leave it there. ‘We’ll be back. I am not convinced by your obvious
attempts to put me off course...’
    She caught John’s eye. His gaze held a
warning. He must have guessed the phone call had warned her
off.
    Back in the foyer Lorne could feel
Abromovski’s steel-cut eyes boring into her back.
    ‘ Guys like that make my