The Art of Murder Read Online Free PDF Page A

Strinner interceded.
    Pendragon turned to him. ‘I’m trying to build up a picture of the victim’s social circle. Does your client have a problem with that?’
    Strinner looked at Hedridge, who sat staring coldly at Pendragon.
    The DCI turned back to the politician. ‘Let’s put it another way, Mr Hedridge. Did Kingsley Berrick have any enemies?’
    Hedridge looked a little startled for a moment. ‘Not so far as I’m aware, Chief Inspector. We were friends, but I had no inside information about how he ran his business. I can honestly say we rarely discussed the commercial aspects of the art world.’
    Pendragon paused for a moment and the room sank into a heavy silence. He glanced at Turner and noted that he was still scribbling diligently in his pad.
    ‘My source suggests that your … relationship with the deceased had recently soured. Do you have any comment to make about that?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Mr Hedridge, please don’t insult my intelligence. My source referred to you as Mr Berrick’s “ex”.’
    Hedridge gave him a fierce look and Strinner started to raise a hand.
    ‘His words, not mine,’ Pendragon added.
    ‘Jackson Price, or “your source” as you prefer to call him, knows nothing about it, Chief Inspector.’
    ‘That may be so, but for now I have to assume he does. And if he is correct, and you and Mr Berrick were … intimately associated and had only recently become … disassociated, that would have a bearing upon my investigation. Wouldn’t you agree, Mr Hedridge?’
    ‘Look, this is utterly ridiculous,’ Strinner exclaimed. ‘I’m sorry, but this line of enquiry is so far off beam as tobe ridiculous. My client has come here to help solve your case …’
    ‘That’s correct,’ Pendragon retorted.
    ‘But the intricacies of my client’s relationship with the murder victim …’
    ‘Are entirely relevant, Mr Strinner. Come now, you know that as well as I do.’
    Hedridge placed a hand on the lawyer’s arm and gave Pendragon a pained look. ‘I thought we had a deal, Chief Inspector.’
    ‘The terms of a deal need to be clearly defined by both parties in advance, Mr Hedridge. You made a declaration of intent. I did not.’
    Hedridge laughed briefly and turned to face his lawyer. ‘Maurice, I think it’s time we left.’

Chapter 8
    ‘Well, that went well,’ Sergeant Turner said sardonically as the door closed behind Hedridge and Strinner.
    Pendragon shook his head slowly. ‘Turner, when you are a grown-up copper, you might, if you’re very lucky, begin to realise that what seem like the worst interviews often yield the most useful facts.’
    Turner raise his eyebrows. ‘Sorry I spoke.’
    ‘Good.’
    ‘But Hedridge was obviously lying out of his arse,’ the sergeant added.
    ‘About?’
    ‘His relationship with Berrick.’
    ‘Of course he was. Though, actually, Strinner was right. It isn’t strictly relevant.’
    ‘You sure, sir? Couldn’t Hedridge have killed Berrick after a lovers’ tiff?’
    ‘Oh, come on, Sergeant. How often does a “lovers’ tiff”, as you put it, end with one of the “lovers” boring a huge hole through the other’s head and propping them up in an art gallery as the centrepiece to a René Magritte-style tableau?’
    ‘Not often, I s’pose.’
    ‘Try “never”. Or perhaps Berrick committed suicide?’
    And Pendragon gave his sergeant a withering look. ‘I think we’ll find that the nature of their relationship was the only thing Hedridge was lying about. He was protecting himself – understandably. According to his file, he’s married with two teenage children, and there’s his political career to think about too. I knew he would clam up about his relationship with Berrick. I wanted to throw him off-kilter. Push him just far enough to let something slip.’
    ‘Did he? I didn’t notice.’
    Pendragon was staring at the wall, lost in thought. ‘No,’ he replied absent-mindedly. ‘No, he didn’t. He’s a politician, and a very