Over My Dead Body (Detective William Warwick #4)(27)

Thirty minutes later, a bald-headed man made a phone call before he joined a small queue of passengers waiting to board the flight for Barcelona. This time he presented a Dutch passport to the immigration official. Ricardo Rossi, dress designer. Once Rossi had fastened his seatbelt, he skipped the plastic meal, closed his eyes and fell asleep.

The plane landed in the Catalonian capital just after midnight. The start of another day. Miles was pleased to see his Spanish driver waiting for him by the exit barrier.

‘Good evening, se?or,’ he said. ‘I hope you had a pleasant flight.’

‘Several,’ Miles said, as he climbed into the back of an anonymous black Volvo.

Another forty minutes passed while he was driven deep into the Spanish countryside, until they reached a recently acquired property that even Booth Watson didn’t know about. A smartly dressed butler had opened the front door before he reached the top step. ‘Good evening, Mr Faulkner,’ he said.

‘Good evening, Collins,’ he replied. ‘Some things never change.’





CHAPTER 9


‘YOU DID WHAT?’ SAID THE commander.

‘I lost him, sir.’

‘Then you’d better find him, or I might have to lose you.’

William was about to ask The Hawk what he had in mind, when it became a rhetorical question.

‘Remind me, Chief Inspector Warwick’ – not a good sign; ‘William’ would have suggested he was in with a chance – ‘do you still have another week’s leave?’

‘Yes, I do, sir.’

‘Then you’ve got seven days to find Faulkner. Should you fail to do so, Chief Inspector, that will give me more than enough time to appoint a replacement as the team’s new SIO, and to decide what your next job will be, and the appropriate rank to go with it.’

The phone went dead.

‘That didn’t sound too friendly,’ said Danny.

‘It could have been worse,’ William responded. ‘He might have addressed me as Constable Warwick.’

‘Then I wouldn’t have to call you “sir”,’ quipped Danny.

‘But until then,’ said William, ‘you can take me home.’

‘Yes, sir.’

? ? ?

William picked up the phone by his bedside, assuming it would be The Hawk calling to deliver a second volley.

‘Hello, caveman. Do you miss me?’

‘More than you realize,’ admitted William. He wanted to tell Beth why, but satisfied himself with, ‘How’s New York?’ There was a buzz of boisterous laughter in the background.

‘Splendiferous! We went to the Frick this afternoon, and you were right about the Bellini, stunning. But I couldn’t wait to find out how the wedding went. Did you arrest Faulkner before or after he said “I do”?’

‘After,’ said William, hoping he would have done so by the time Beth returned.

‘How did Christina react?’ she asked, sounding like The Hawk.

‘Not over the phone, my darling. I’ll tell you everything as soon as you get back. What are you up to this evening?’ he asked, desperate to change the subject.

‘We’re going to La Cage aux Folles. Had to buy scalper’s tickets. But then, a deserted woman can’t afford to hang around. I miss you.’

‘Miss you too.’

‘And congratulations.’

‘On what?’

‘On your triumph. Can’t wait to hear all about it. I have to go now, the curtain’s about to go up. Sleep well, miss you.’

William didn’t sleep well; in fact he didn’t sleep at all. He would have liked to discuss the problem with Beth and seek her advice, but it would have ruined her holiday. In fact, he suspected she would have been on her way to JFK before the curtain had gone up. By the time the first suggestion of morning announced itself through a crack in the curtain, William had already taken a cold shower, dressed, had a bowl of cornflakes and made two phone calls: one to Danny and the other to DI Ross Hogan.

He was about half-way through briefing his new second-in-command when he remembered what time it was. He began to apologize, when he heard a muffled voice in the background, which he thought he recognized. He’d clearly woken both of them.

‘I’ll be there as quickly as I can, sir,’ said Hogan, before putting the phone down.

‘Do give the chief my best wishes,’ said Jackie, as Ross leapt out of bed. ‘And don’t forget to thank him for ruining our last weekend together.’

? ? ?

Danny pulled up outside DCI Warwick’s house forty minutes later. William climbed into the back of the car to join Ross, who looked far more awake than he felt.

DI Hogan was clearly a man who wasn’t quite ready for plainclothes work. He was dressed in a pair of light blue jeans, a creased T-shirt that looked as if it had been picked up off the floor, and trainers which, although top of the range, were hardly regulation. But that’s how The Hawk would have described his brain.

‘What a balls-up, sir,’ were Ross’s first words as William pulled the back door closed.

‘Couldn’t be much worse. In fact, you’d better get used to calling me William, as I have a feeling I could be calling you sir by the end of the week,’ he said, before revealing the details of his telephone conversation with The Hawk.