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The Invisible Assassin(40)

By:Jim Eldridge


‘Sue Clark from Pierce Randall,’ she introduced herself to Jake, her tone clipped and crisp. She looked around the interview room with undisguised disapproval. ‘Do I understand you’ve been interrogating my client without him having any legal representation?’ she snapped at Edgar.

Inspector Edgar bridled.

‘I hardly think “interrogating” is the right word . . .’ he began.

‘Oh. And what is the right word, might I ask?’ demanded Clark. Her voice cut through the air like a whip. ‘It looks to me as if there have been so many infringements in my client’s rights that you’ll be lucky if you stay in your job.’

She’s tough, thought Jake. She’s the one I want on my side. But how did I get her?

‘Now look here . . .’ protested Edgar.

‘No, you look,’ interrupted Clark firmly. ‘As I understand it, my client is just a witness, yet it’s obvious he’s being treated as a suspect. This is not due process. Now, if you don’t want to find yourself a subject of a major investigation, I suggest you release my client.’

‘At the moment he’s helping us with our enquiries,’ countered Edgar.

‘And he will return and continue to help you with those enquiries after he and I have had our discussion about this case,’ stated Clark. ‘Don’t forget, Inspector, we are Pierce Randall. You may have heard of us.’

It was pretty obvious from the unhappy expression on the detective’s face that he had, and it wasn’t good news.

‘Very well,’ he growled. ‘In the spirit of cooperation, we shall release Mr Wells.’ Then he added quickly, ‘But be aware that his home is now a crime scene, and we cannot have that tampered with.’

‘That’s no problem,’ said Clark. ‘Pierce Randall have an apartment Mr Wells can move into for the time being. This is the address.’ She produced a card which she handed to Edgar. ‘But, if you wish to make contact with Mr Wells for any reason before we return, you will do that through me. My contact details are on the reverse side of the card.’

‘Very well.’ Edgar nodded. ‘We would like Mr Wells to return to help us with our enquiries tomorrow morning at nine thirty.’ His tone changed to one of pointed sarcasm as he asked, ‘Will that be all right with you?’

Clark nodded. ‘That is acceptable. We will report here at nine thirty a.m. tomorrow.’ Turning to Jake, she said, ‘Do you have any possessions here?’

‘My mobile and my keys,’ said Jake, his mind still in a whirl at the effect this woman had had on his situation. ‘And my shoelaces.’

‘Let’s collect them and then we can go,’ she said.

Jake got to his feet and followed the lawyer to the door. A uniformed officer opened it for them.

I’m out! thought Jake. Free!

But then the additional disturbing thought returned: who is she? And what is she leading me into?





Chapter 19




There was a car waiting for them in the parking area outside the police station. Not just any car: this was a luxurious-looking Merc with blacked-out windows, the number plates showing it was this year’s model, and standing beside it was a uniformed chauffeur who opened the rear door for them.

Jake got in and sank into the plush leather seating. My God, he thought. I’ve been in hotel rooms that weren’t as comfortable as this!

The chauffeur slid behind the steering wheel and the car moved off. Jake noticed there was a glass panel between the driver and the rear of the car.

‘Who are you?’ he asked.

Clark frowned. ‘I thought I’d introduced myself,’ she said.

‘Yes, but who are you? I mean, where did you come from? Who sent you?’

‘I’ll let my principal deal with your questions,’ she said. ‘He’s better equipped for that. My job was just to get you out of there, and then represent you in any further interviews you may have with the police.’

‘Like tomorrow morning,’ said Jake.

She shrugged. ‘A formality,’ she said. ‘I’m pretty confident they won’t be troubling you after that.’

Jake regarded her, baffled at her confidence.

‘How can you say that?’ he asked. ‘They found a dead man in my flat, and no sign of a break-in.’

‘We are Pierce Randall,’ she said simply.

Jake shook his head.

‘I’ve never heard of you,’ he said.

‘Very few people have,’ said Clark. ‘The important thing is that the ones who matter have heard of us. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to check my messages, and send a few myself.’

‘About me?’