Private London Read online

  ‘You seem quite confident of that.’

  ‘You’re on your own, inspector. I know how these things work. You’d have squad cars, lights flashing, sirens. There’d be a news crew filming you making the arrest of your career. All you have, after all, is a barman’s vague recollection prompted by yourself. I think it’s called leading the witness. And your instincts, of course. But I don’t think you’ll find that they are recognised as evidence in a court of law.’

  ‘My instincts aren’t important now.’

  ‘And why’s that?’

  ‘Because I resigned from the force this morning. I’m not in the police any more.’

  ‘So why are you here?’

  ‘Because I needed to know.’

  ‘Either way, it’s over now.’ But the surgeon’s shoulders sagged again, contradicting her words. It could never be over for her.

  ‘Turn yourself in, Doctor Lloyd.’

  ‘And who is that going to help?’

  Kirsty looked at her sympathetically as tears welled in the older woman’s eyes. ‘You,’ she said softly.

  ‘And who would bring Emily flowers? Who would look after her then?’

  The woman couldn’t hold the tears back now and Kirsty put her arms around her. Doctor Lloyd’s heart was pounding, her fragile form fluttering within the younger woman’s embrace. She felt as though her bones were hollow.

  In some ways, ex-Detective Inspector Kirsty Webb was glad she had resigned earlier that day. Justice as far as the law was concerned was a matter of science. But people weren’t machines. She didn’t know what the other woman, even now crumpling in on herself, deserved. That was way beyond Kirsty’s area of expertise. Police didn’t get to make that call. Their job was to unearth the facts, and Kirsty didn’t believe she had the moral compass to put these facts in order and make a judgement. She was glad she didn’t have to.

  She’d made a call to Detective Inspector Natalie James just before she had handed in her notice.

  She figured things would fall as they did.

  Chapter 115

  I STOOD BY the window, watching Alison Chambers walk to her car once more.

  A week had passed. She still swung her hips, still flipped the bird at me over her shoulder as she got into the driver’s seat. Nothing had changed, it seemed, but everything had.

  Like I say, some cases you win, some you lose – and some you win but it doesn’t feel like it.

  I had killed a woman and that wasn’t something you just shake off like the rain from your hair.

  I remembered the noise, the shouting, the mayhem. At the time I had let it wash past me. But it still visited me in my dreams at night. I knew how that worked, though. In time it would pass. My hands might have been bloody but my conscience was clean. I had done the job I had been paid to do.

  When I hadn’t made contact as agreed, Sam had called the contact in the USAF based at HMS Warrior a mile away that Jack Morgan had given us and had come in ahead of them. They weren’t far behind him. The Palestinians took two more casualties before they were overrun. Score three for democracy, nil for terrorism, I figured. Only, like I say, it didn’t feel like that.

  Men in black suits arrived. In the old days they would have been CIA and MI5. Nowadays it was Homeland Security for the US of A and some unknown quasi-military unit sanctioned by the Home Office for us. Either way, it was like a Mafia clean-up crew sent in to eradicate evidence, dispose of the bodies.

  The professor and the remaining members of her team who were still alive – including Ashleigh Roughton, the CUL rugby captain – were spirited away. Turned out that Roughton thought the professor was in love with him as well.

  As far as the suits were concerned – officially, we were never there. Del Rio and I left to settle matters with Brendan Ferres. Harlan Shapiro was taken to be reunited with his daughter and they were booked on a hastily scheduled jet to fly them straight back to the States first thing in the morning.

  I never saw either of them again.

  Part of me felt that Hannah should have stayed behind to face some sort of music for the sequence of events that she had set in motion. Mostly, though, I felt glad that it was all over. Hannah and her father were back under the watchful eye of Jack Morgan. They were his concern now.

  I turned and looked at Bogart and Bacall. Marlowe looked like he was judging me, as ever. I didn’t care. It was Friday evening, I had the weekend ahead of me and once again Dan Carter had a date lined up. I smiled at Bacall. ‘Here’s looking at you, kid.’

  Chapter 116

  IF THE COOL blonde at reception was pleased to see me back at the restaurant once more there was no clue to it in her perfectly made-up face.

  I was wearing my blue tie again, with a black linen suit this time. It gave me an air of casual sophistication, I thought. I didn’t want to send out the wrong signals. After all, it was just a dinner. Not a dinner date. We had both been clear about that. Very clear.

  Blondie ran her finger down the list of bookings again, her left eyebrow raised a minuscule amount once more, enough to make a point.

  ‘Ah yes, Mister Cotter. I remember you couldn’t stay very long with us on your last visit.’

  ‘It’s Carter,’ I said. ‘Dan Carter. And no, I am afraid something came up. Work. You know how it is?’

  ‘Might I recommend you turn off your mobile phone?’ she said. ‘You were very lucky we were able to fit you in again at such short notice. I’d hate for another evening to be spoiled for you.’

  Frankly, it looked like that was exactly what she would have liked. And she was right. I should have turned my phone off. But doing so then, after being practically told to do so by a jumped-up waitress, was never going to happen.

  ‘I can’t do that, I am afraid,’ I said. ‘I’m a surgeon. Heart surgeon. Paediatric heart surgeon.’

  See, that’s the trouble with lies – they can run away with you. My companion snorted but said nothing, and the receptionist inched her eyebrow a scintilla further heavenwards.

  ‘Follow me, then, please, Doctor Carter,’ she said.

  ‘That’s Mister Carter,’ I replied. I guess she’d thought she’d catch me out. She’d have to get up a lot earlier in the morning to do that.

  ‘That a new suit, Dan?’ asked Kirsty as we were led to my table.

  I laughed. ‘Hardly. Why do you ask?’

  ‘Because you’ve got a label still on the back of your trousers.’

  The receptionist chuckled and held out a chair for Kirsty. I swept my hand around the back of my trousers. There was nothing there.

  ‘You’re too easy,’ said Kirsty as she sat down.

  I joined her and picked up the wine list. ‘So why were you running late?’

  ‘I had to see someone.’

  ‘So are we celebrating?’

  ‘Did I get the job, you’re asking?’

  I nodded.

  ‘As far as that goes, no, we are not celebrating.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

  ‘Sorry that I’m not moving to Manchester?’

  I looked at her. Her emerald green eyes still the kind that a man fell into and drowned. ‘Sorry that you didn’t get what you wanted,’ I said.

  ‘Are we still talking about the job?’

  ‘What are you going to do now?’

  Kirsty picked up the menu. ‘I’m going to consider my options’

  ‘I’ve heard the prawn cocktail is very good,’ I said.

  She laughed. I liked the sound of it. Gave me an idea I’d probably regret.

  Twenty minutes later and our starter arrived. I was having creamed truffled goat’s cheese, with asparagus and pickled beetroot. My partner, as they say, plumped for the twice-baked Norfolk dapple soufflé with a mixed-leaf salad and a herb vinaigrette. No drop scones and fish eggs for us.

  I took a sip of my lager, picked up my fork and was about to spear a beetroot when my mobile phone rang. Noisily. I smiled apologetically at the diners at the neighbouring ta
ble and fished it out of my pocket.

  Even as I looked at the caller ID Kirsty snatched it out of my hand. She saw who was calling too and switched the phone off, throwing me a withering look as she did so.

  ‘I cannot believe that woman.’

  Alison Chambers, of course.

  Moments later her own phone trilled – a lot more quietly than mine had. I shrugged at the neighbouring diners again. What could you do?

  ‘Kirsty Webb?’ she answered. A degree of coldness that would have chilled an Inuit creeping into her voice.

  She listened for a moment or two and then nodded. ‘Okay. I’ll tell him.’ She hung up without waiting for a reply and served me a cool look.

  ‘That was Alison,’ she said.

  I had gathered that much.

  ‘She’s down at Paddington Green nick.’

  ‘And …?’

  ‘And she’s there representing one of your clients.’

  ‘Good for her, but I’m sure it’s nothing that can’t wait until morning.’

  ‘Sean Chester has just been murdered.’

  I put my fork down, the uneaten beetroot still speared on its tines. Sean Chester had been one of our clients. The ex-producer on one of the biggest continuing dramas as they called them nowadays.

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘He was shot dead two hours ago, Dan. And they’ve arrested your favourite star Melinda Hamilton for it.’

  Another one of our clients. ‘They booked her?’

  ‘No. She’s not been charged yet, but your hotshot lawyer girlfriend reckons it’s a matter of hours, not days.’

  I sighed, finished my beer and reached for my jacket.

  ‘Well, are you coming or not?’ I said.

  ‘I’m off the job,’ Kirsty replied.

  ‘Not any more,’ I said, standing up and giving her the full Dan Carter wattage.

  ‘Welcome to Private.’

  This eBook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  Version 1.0

  Epub ISBN 9781446409138

  Published by Century, 2011

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  Copyright © James Patterson, 2011

  James Patterson has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental

  This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser

  First published in Great Britain in 2011 by

  Century

  Random House, 20 Vauxhall Bridge Road

  London SW1V 2SA

  www.randomhouse.co.uk

  Addresses for companies within The Random House Group Limited can be

  found at: www.randomhouse.co.uk/offices.htm

  The Random House Group Limited Reg. No. 954009

  A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  Hardback ISBN 9781846058318

  Trade paperback ISBN 9781846058325

  Part One

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Part Two

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Part Three

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Part Four

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Chapter 79

  Chapter 80

  Chapter 81

  Chapter 82

  Chapter 83

  Chapter 84

  Chapter 85

  Chapter 86

  Chapter 87

  Chapter 88

  Chapter 89

  Chapter 90

  Chapter 91

  Chapter 92

  Chapter 93

  Chapter 94

  Chapter 95

  Chapter 96

  Chapter 97

  Chapter 98

  Chapter 99

  Chapter 100

  Chapter 101

  Chapter 102

  Chapter 103

  Chapter 104

  Chapter 105

  Chapter 106

  Chapter 107

  Chapter 108

  Chapter 109

  Chapter 110

  Chapter 111

  Chapter 112

  Chapter 113

  Chapter 114

  Chapter 115

  Chapter 116

  Table of Contents

  Part One

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Part Two

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Part Three

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapte
r 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Part Four

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Chapter 79

  Chapter 80