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Over My Dead Body (Detective William Warwick #4)(76)

Author:Jeffrey Archer

‘We’re not bounty hunters,’ said The Hawk. ‘I’ll need to be convinced you have a better than fifty-fifty chance of success before I would even consider sanctioning such an operation.’

‘I have an appointment this afternoon with the company that constructed the metal door in Faulkner’s study,’ said Ross. ‘That might well change the odds.’

‘If they let you know how to open that door,’ said The Hawk, ‘I’ll stand you a pint.’

‘But you only gave me a half after our Trojan Horse triumph,’ Paul reminded him.

‘More than you deserved,’ said William, ‘considering you spent most of the evening in A&E with a sprained ankle.’

The rest of the team began to bang on the table with the palms of their hands, while Paul looked suitably chastened. He was rescued by the commander’s secretary rushing into the room.

‘A woman has just been murdered in South Kensington,’ she said. ‘They’re asking for the Yard’s assistance.’

‘Tell them to get one of the local murder teams to handle the case, Angela,’ said the commander. ‘Don’t they realize we have enough problems of our own?’

‘Normally they would, the officer in charge assured me,’ said Angela, ‘but the woman was found with a serrated kitchen knife sticking out of her throat.’

‘Roach,’ said William and Hogan simultaneously, as they both leapt out of their seats.

‘Tell them we’re on our way,’ said William. ‘Jackie, make sure there’s a squad car waiting for us outside the front door, and ask the duty officer to contact me on my radio, so he can brief me before I get there.’

William and Ross began running towards the door, but William suddenly stopped, turned back and said, ‘Paul, put out an all-points alert for Terry Roach, with a warning that he’ll be armed and dangerous. He can’t be far from the scene, but in this particular case, it won’t be the first forty-eight hours that are crucial, but the first forty-eight minutes. If we don’t arrest him before he gets back to the East End, he’ll have a cast-iron alibi along with a dozen witnesses who’ll swear blind he hasn’t set foot outside Whitechapel all day.’

Paul grabbed the nearest phone as William ran out of the room and into the corridor. Ross was already out of sight. He took the stairs down to the ground floor two at a time, not wanting to rely on the vagaries of the lift. By the time he reached the lobby, Danny was pulling up outside the front door.

William pushed his way through the swing doors, as Ross jumped into the back of the car, leaving the door open. William hadn’t even closed it before Danny accelerated away.

They shot out of the Yard, siren blaring. Danny drove straight through a red light on the corner of Victoria Street, causing several vehicles to throw on their brakes, followed by irate horns blaring.

‘Do we have the exact location?’ William asked, clinging to the seat in front of him.

‘Prince Albert Crescent,’ said Danny, as he sped past the Palace Theatre in the direction of Hyde Park Corner. Several vehicles eased across to their right and left, allowing the car in their rear-view mirror to continue on its journey uninterrupted.

William’s first thought was that the Fitzmolean was on Prince Albert Crescent. He tried to dismiss the idea from his mind. The radio buzzed, and William grabbed it. ‘Chief Inspector Warwick,’ he said.

‘Inspector Preston, sir. I’m the duty officer at West End Central. DS Roycroft has just called to say you wanted to be briefed immediately.’

‘Correct,’ said William, not wasting a word.

‘A young woman has had her throat slit in Prince Albert Crescent,’ said Preston. ‘It looks to me as if it was premeditated, and the killer knew his victim.’

‘Any idea of her identity?’

‘No, sir. A passer-by saw a car draw up by her side and a heavily built man wearing a stocking mask jumped out and slashed her across the face several times before finally slitting her throat. He then got back into the car which took off at high speed. It was all over in a matter of seconds.’

‘Did anyone get the vehicle reg?’

‘DS Adaja asked me the same question, but all we know is that the witness was pretty sure it was a black BMW.’

‘Can you give me a description of the woman?’

‘That’s not easy, sir. She’s been badly disfigured.’

‘Skin colour, age?’

‘Caucasian, I’d guess early thirties.’

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