A Donation of Murder by Felicity Young Read Free Book Online Page A

moving picture less amusing than this. Shame he was in no mood to appreciate it.
    With nothing but a tilt of his head, he indicated the fracas.
    â€˜Yes, sir,’ the policemen said in unison, stepping into the street to direct the traffic and prevent the road users from throttling one another.
    What a day.
    Pike turned his back on Commercial Road and retraced his steps to the tenement in Brushfield Street. A few police vans remained. The men, earlier anxious to get people out of the building, were now holding back a crowd desperate to return to the meagre warmth of their rooms. Pike instructed one of the uniformed sergeants to assure the tenants they would be able to return once night had fallen, and the thieves’ bodies had been removed. Before he’d set off in pursuit of Tommy, he’d left specific instructions that the bodies were to be left alone, posting a guard outside the door until he could return with the police surgeon. But not just any police surgeon woulddo, he thought wryly as he crossed the road and made his way through the smoke of the local public house.
    He phoned Dody’s home number. Annie, the maid, answered and he asked to speak to her mistress. When Dody at last picked up the telephone she sounded distracted, which was most unlike her. They both usually jumped at the opportunity to work on a case together. God knew how little they saw of one another and how precious each moment was — even if there was often a dead body lying between them.
    â€˜You want me to meet you at Brushfield Street, right now?’ she asked.
    Pike picked up the reluctance in her tone. ‘It might be the only chance we’ll get to see each other in a while.’
    â€˜I will not be able to see you tonight?’
    â€˜I’m not sure. If at all, it will be late. Once I’ve finished here I’ll have to report to Shepherd and work out an operational plan. This case will be on the front page of the newspapers tomorrow and could keep me busy for weeks.’
    â€˜Oh, I understand.’ She paused. ‘You see, Matthew, I have a visitor whom I’m reluctant to leave.’
    â€˜Don’t tell me Florence is back?’
    â€˜No,’ Dody said, ‘though I wish she were.’
    â€˜In that case don’t worry, I’ll send for the police surgeon,’ Pike said, reasonably, ‘and you’ll get the bodies tomorrow in the mortuary once he’s finished with them.’ The police surgeons were often accused of being heavy handed by the Home Office Pathology department. But with Spilsbury away, and Dody unwilling, Pike had little choice. ‘It’s bitterly cold out and best you stay in anyway,’ he added. ‘Take care, my love. I’ll call you when I can.’
    Pike was about to hang up when Dody stopped him. ‘Wait, Matthew, wait. Where are you?’
    â€˜The Red Lion in Cooper Street.’
    â€˜I’ll check on my visitor. If she’s settled I’ll meet you there in about half an hour. It’s stopped snowing and I’m sure Fletcher will be able to drive me. I’ll see you soon, I hope.’
    Pike smiled as he replaced the earpiece. Whether her decision had been for him or for the intrigue of a new case was of no consequence — he’d most likely be seeing Dody soon.
    *
    Pike was waiting for her outside the Red Lion, stamping his feet and slapping his arms to keep warm. The evening gloom was already descending and the lamps had been lit. They embraced discreetly, just outside the street lamp’s range. Pike smelled of smoke, and his ear, where it rested against her cheek, was like ice.
    Dody peeled off her glove, desperate for the feel of skin on skin.
    â€˜Matthew, you’re frozen,’ she said as she cupped his ears in her hands. ‘Where’s your hat?’
    â€˜In the street, stamped into a pancake by now, I suspect.’
    â€˜What have you been up to?’
    â€˜No heroics, if