Cold Light by John Harvey Read Free Book Online Page B

stupid.”
    â€œYou look wonderful. Every man in that room is going to take one look at you …”
    â€œThat’s what I’m worried about.”
    â€œâ€¦ and be falling over themselves asking you to dance.”
    Nancy was looking at herself in Dana’s full-length mirror. “I look like I’m auditioning for principal boy in Aladdin .”
    â€œSo, fine. You’ll get the part.”
    Nancy recrossed the room, trying to walk small. She’d met one or two of them already, architects and such, they hadn’t seemed too bad. More interesting than the people she worked with herself. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” she said. “Maybe I shouldn’t go at all. They’re your friends, people you work with, I shall hardly know a soul.”
    â€œ You’re my friend. And besides, I’ve told them all about you …” Nancy placed one hand over her eyes. “… and one more thing, there’s no refund on the price of your ticket.”
    â€œAll right,” Nancy said, “you talked me into it. I’m coming.”
    Dana lifted her watch from the dressing table and, held it closer to her face. “Taxi’s here in twenty minutes.”
    â€œI thought we didn’t have to be there till eight?”
    â€œWe’re meeting first for a drink at Sarah Brown’s.”
    â€œWon’t it be terribly crowded?”
    â€œAll the better. Rub shoulders with the rich and nearly famous.”
    â€œAll the same,” Martin Wrigglesworth was saying to Michelle, “I think, just to be certain, I’d be happier if we could just pop him along to the doctor, let someone have a proper look at him.” From somewhere he dredged up a smile. “Better safe than sorry.”
    â€œYou don’t mean now?” Michelle asked. “You want to take him to the doctor now?”
    â€œYes,” Martin said, clipping his biro into his top pocket. “Now.”
    The taxi arrived almost fifteen minutes early and the driver wanted to charge them waiting time, but Dana soon disabused him of that. Nancy had changed out of her black skirt into a pair of loose-fitting black trousers and then back into her skirt again. She had borrowed one of Dana’s topcoats, bright red wool, a regular bull’s delight.
    â€œYou’ve got your ticket?”
    Nancy patted the sequined bag she held in her lap.
    â€œCondoms?” Dana laughed.
    Nancy stuck out her tongue. “It isn’t going to be that kind of night.”
    Dana, sitting back in the corner of the cab, smiling. “You never know.”
    Nancy did: what she had in her bag, ever hopeful, were three Lillets.
    The cab swung out of the Park, into incoming traffic on Derby Road. They were approaching Canning Circus when Nancy suddenly leaned forward, asking the driver to stop.
    â€œWhat’s the matter?” Dana asked. “What’ve you forgotten?”
    â€œNothing.” Nancy opened the nearside door. “I’m just popping into the police station, that’s all.”
    â€œWhatever for?”
    â€œIt doesn’t matter. You go on. I’ll meet you at the hotel. Go straight there. Bye.”
    Nancy pushed the cab door closed and stood a moment, watching the vehicle pull away, Dana’s face, perplexed, staring back through the glass.
    The officer on the duty desk had phoned Resnick’s office to inform him he had a visitor, not quite able to keep the smirk out of his voice. It wasn’t until Nancy Phelan walked in through the door to the deserted CID room that Resnick understood why.
    â€œInspector …”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œI was here earlier today …”
    â€œI remember.” Resnick smiled. “Not dressed like that.”
    Nancy gave a half-smile in return. She had unbuttoned the borrowed red coat walking up the stairs and now it hung loose from her shoulders. “Christmas Eve, you know how it is.