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Over My Dead Body (Detective William Warwick #4)(99)

Author:Jeffrey Archer

‘So Pugh didn’t get his hands on her money after all.’

‘Now there’s the irony,’ said Jackie. ‘It seems that Mrs Pugh failed to mention to her latest husband that she’d been married twice before, and between them they’d bled her dry. She assumed that, as Pugh always paid the bills, he had to be a rich man. She was devastated to discover that he was also penniless. It turns out she can’t even afford to pay her hotel bill.’

‘The Mount Nelson doesn’t come cheap,’ said William.

‘How did you know where they were staying?’

‘Do the local police think Mrs Pugh might have been involved in her husband’s death?’ asked William, avoiding the question.

‘No, sir,’ said Jackie. ‘In fact, they’ve issued a statement confirming there were no suspicious circumstances, and allowed the bereaved widow to accompany the body back to England. Tourist class. So you’ll have to find me another impossible case to solve.’

‘Concentrate on this one,’ said William, as a light went on in Jo’s house, and others continued to go on and off during the next hour, but then William had learnt over the years that surveillance was a cat and mouse game and patience was the cheese in the trap.

They both listened to the seven o’clock news on the radio, and nothing had changed by the time the eight o’clock news followed an hour later. During that time the milk, the papers and the post were delivered, but the front door remained closed.

William was beginning to think that ‘the first day of the month’ might not have been as important a clue as one of Paul’s informants had suggested, until a black Toyota pulled up outside the house and parked on a double yellow line.

When the passenger door opened, neither of them needed an identikit picture to know who it was heading for the front door.

‘Christ, he’s built like a tank,’ said Jackie.

‘Six foot four, two hundred and twenty pounds, and he practically lives in the gym,’ said William, as the giant knocked on the door.

Verenich waited for a short time, casting an occasional glance up and down the mews, before knocking again. This time a little more firmly. A few moments later Ross appeared, dressed in a tracksuit.

‘Doesn’t look as if he’s planning to come in to work today,’ said Jackie, as Ross handed a thick wad of notes to Verenich, who took his time counting them.

‘I still intend to put a stop to whatever he does have planned,’ said William, as Verenich gave Ross what passed for a smile, pocketed the money and returned to the car.

William switched on a radio that connected him to the rest of the team.

‘Verenich’s car is heading towards the traffic lights at the junction with Merton Street. I’ll let you know which way he turns. Remember to keep your distance.’

‘Understood,’ said three alert voices, who had also been waiting impatiently to go to work since six o’clock that morning. William was about to follow the Toyota when Ross came running out of the house, jumped into his car and immediately drove off.

‘The mark is turning left,’ said William, ‘so he’s yours, Danny, and DI Hogan isn’t far behind. Keep me briefed, but ditch Verenich when he reaches his next customer. Paul will take over.’

‘Understood,’ said two voices, as the Toyota drove past a taxi that never picked up a paying passenger.

William smiled when he saw Ross turn left at the lights and continue to follow Verenich. ‘Constable Markham.’

‘Sir.’

‘He’s driving a dark blue Volkswagen …’

‘Clocked him, sir.’

? ? ?

Ross could see the Toyota up ahead, and tucked in behind a taxi. The traffic light at the next junction was green, but he wasn’t sure he would make it in time. He put his foot on the accelerator.

Verenich’s driver turned right and the taxi followed, but the lights began to change as Ross approached them. He drove straight through, only to be met by a policeman who stepped out into the road, raised the palm of his right hand and with an exaggerated wave of the arm indicated that Ross should pull into the kerb. As he came to a halt Ross voiced several Anglo-Saxon expletives behind the car’s closed windows.

The young officer walked slowly towards him, as Ross wound down the window, his engine still running.

‘How can I help you, constable?’ he asked, as Verenich disappeared around the next corner.

‘Do you realize, sir, that you just drove through a red light?’