Read Online Lethal Intent by Quintin Jardine - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Quintin Jardine
Tags: Mystery
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the provisional time of death at eight p.m.'
A woman raised her hand. 'Iris Staples, Evening News,' she said. 'Was George a bit of a daredevil?'
'George was a normal active boy,' Detective Inspector Steele answered, from the side of the room, 'with a keen sense of adventure. I knew him, but I'm not going to stick any labels on him.'
'Would it have been in character for him to go off to try a spot of rock-climbing?'
'That's a question that would be better put to his parents, when they feel up to seeing you.'
'So, Superintendent,' said John Hunter, 'to come back to my first question, we can safely say that there's no evidence of foul play, and leave it at that? Nothing's going to change overnight?'
'No, it isn't,' Mary Chambers replied, 'nor the night after that. We'll await Professor Hutchinson's report, and any witness statements we receive, but I expect we'll be able to make a report to the Procurator Fiscal pretty soon.'
Fifteen
Rolling his suitcase behind him and with his flight bag slung over his left shoulder, Bob Skinner stepped through the international arrivals gateway and out on to the concourse of Glasgow Airport. It was eight a.m., his eyes were gritty… he never slept on aircraft… and he felt in dire need of a shower and a shave. He also felt cold: he had left in late-autumn conditions, but he was returning to a full-blown Scottish winter.
He shivered as he looked around for Neil McIlhenney, not bothering to hide his impatience as he failed to spot him. Suddenly he felt a tug on his sleeve. He turned… to see Aileen de Marco looking up at him. 'Taxi?' she said.
For the first time in a full day he smiled. 'Hi,' he sighed. 'I'd like that, but I'm being picked up.'
'You are indeed: by me.'
'How come?' he asked, bewildered. 'Did you quit after all and go into the car-hire business?'
'Nearly, but I stopped myself. Being chauffeured is one of the perks of my job. I couldn't give that up. As for my being here, I wanted to see you, so I called your pal Neil and persuaded him to let me take his place.'
'I thought you didn't drive.'
'Your information was out of date: I didn't have a car for a while, but I've driven since I was eighteen. I bought myself new wheels six months ago: a sharp deal from Arnold Clark.'
'I'll bet Neil was pleased to hear that.' He leaned forward slightly, and kissed her cheek. 'But I'm glad you did it: I wanted to see you too. I tried to call you yesterday, but Lena said you were tied up all day.'
'I sure was: She took his arm. 'Come on, let's get out of here.'
She led him out of the terminal building and across the road to the short-stay car park. Her car was a Fiat Stilo hatchback; he put his bags into the boot and climbed in, pleased to discover that the interior was still warm from the trip to the airport.
'Have you come from Edinburgh?' he asked her, as she turned on to the M8.
'No, I stayed at my flat in Glasgow overnight. I thought we'd go there now, actually, to let you freshen up, and to have some breakfast.'
He rubbed his chin. 'Good idea. I feel like I've been travelling for ever; it's three flights from where I was to here.'
'There's a Scotsman in the back,' she said. 'There's something in it you should see.'
'Sounds ominous,' he murmured, reaching behind him to retrieve the newspaper.
The report of George Regan junior's death was at the foot of the front page. 'Jesus,' he whispered. 'The poor kid. I met him, too, at the station Christmas party a couple of years ago.' He scanned the report. 'How must George and his wife be feeling?'
'Like any other parents who've lost a kid, I imagine. They'll be going through all sorts of agonies and recriminations: if only they hadn't let him go, and all that.'
'Try caging thunder,' Bob mused. 'My younger son would try to climb Mount Everest if I took my eye off him for a second.'
'Make sure you don't, then. By the way, I've got a message for you from Neil. There's a meeting in Fettes at three this afternoon that you'll
A woman raised her hand. 'Iris Staples, Evening News,' she said. 'Was George a bit of a daredevil?'
'George was a normal active boy,' Detective Inspector Steele answered, from the side of the room, 'with a keen sense of adventure. I knew him, but I'm not going to stick any labels on him.'
'Would it have been in character for him to go off to try a spot of rock-climbing?'
'That's a question that would be better put to his parents, when they feel up to seeing you.'
'So, Superintendent,' said John Hunter, 'to come back to my first question, we can safely say that there's no evidence of foul play, and leave it at that? Nothing's going to change overnight?'
'No, it isn't,' Mary Chambers replied, 'nor the night after that. We'll await Professor Hutchinson's report, and any witness statements we receive, but I expect we'll be able to make a report to the Procurator Fiscal pretty soon.'
Fifteen
Rolling his suitcase behind him and with his flight bag slung over his left shoulder, Bob Skinner stepped through the international arrivals gateway and out on to the concourse of Glasgow Airport. It was eight a.m., his eyes were gritty… he never slept on aircraft… and he felt in dire need of a shower and a shave. He also felt cold: he had left in late-autumn conditions, but he was returning to a full-blown Scottish winter.
He shivered as he looked around for Neil McIlhenney, not bothering to hide his impatience as he failed to spot him. Suddenly he felt a tug on his sleeve. He turned… to see Aileen de Marco looking up at him. 'Taxi?' she said.
For the first time in a full day he smiled. 'Hi,' he sighed. 'I'd like that, but I'm being picked up.'
'You are indeed: by me.'
'How come?' he asked, bewildered. 'Did you quit after all and go into the car-hire business?'
'Nearly, but I stopped myself. Being chauffeured is one of the perks of my job. I couldn't give that up. As for my being here, I wanted to see you, so I called your pal Neil and persuaded him to let me take his place.'
'I thought you didn't drive.'
'Your information was out of date: I didn't have a car for a while, but I've driven since I was eighteen. I bought myself new wheels six months ago: a sharp deal from Arnold Clark.'
'I'll bet Neil was pleased to hear that.' He leaned forward slightly, and kissed her cheek. 'But I'm glad you did it: I wanted to see you too. I tried to call you yesterday, but Lena said you were tied up all day.'
'I sure was: She took his arm. 'Come on, let's get out of here.'
She led him out of the terminal building and across the road to the short-stay car park. Her car was a Fiat Stilo hatchback; he put his bags into the boot and climbed in, pleased to discover that the interior was still warm from the trip to the airport.
'Have you come from Edinburgh?' he asked her, as she turned on to the M8.
'No, I stayed at my flat in Glasgow overnight. I thought we'd go there now, actually, to let you freshen up, and to have some breakfast.'
He rubbed his chin. 'Good idea. I feel like I've been travelling for ever; it's three flights from where I was to here.'
'There's a Scotsman in the back,' she said. 'There's something in it you should see.'
'Sounds ominous,' he murmured, reaching behind him to retrieve the newspaper.
The report of George Regan junior's death was at the foot of the front page. 'Jesus,' he whispered. 'The poor kid. I met him, too, at the station Christmas party a couple of years ago.' He scanned the report. 'How must George and his wife be feeling?'
'Like any other parents who've lost a kid, I imagine. They'll be going through all sorts of agonies and recriminations: if only they hadn't let him go, and all that.'
'Try caging thunder,' Bob mused. 'My younger son would try to climb Mount Everest if I took my eye off him for a second.'
'Make sure you don't, then. By the way, I've got a message for you from Neil. There's a meeting in Fettes at three this afternoon that you'll
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