Gatecrasher by Robert Young Read Free Book Online

Campbell looked from one policeman to the other trying to figure out if he ought to know who Anthony Cooper was.
    Campbell had felt slightly panicked at the appearance of the wallet, suddenly fearing the focus of suspicion falling again on him but soon reason returned and was confirmed by the idle musing of the policemen.
    ‘Drunk Chelsea fan hears party, climbs over wall, drops wallet in garden and can’t find it in the dark...’ Samuel had a distant look on his face like he was picturing it all.
    ‘Or is too pissed to find it.’ offered Scott.
    ‘Mmm. Gives up looking, gets cold, gatecrashes party.’ finished Samuel.
    ‘…nicks more booze in kitchen, falls down drunk and gets a wine glass in the neck for his trouble.’ Scott went on but quickly stopped himself when he saw Campbell wince once more.
    ‘Mr Campbell, what happened here on Saturday was probably just a terrible accident and I am sorry you were involved. We had to come and have a look around as you can appreciate; someone has died.’ DC Samuel spoke the words softly. ‘But on the face of it…’ the policeman shrugged. ‘Accidents like this happen you know. I’ve seen plenty stranger than this. Plenty. Take comfort from the fact that you did all you could.’
    Campbell felt the surprise before the reassurance. He wasn’t expecting that. No hard questions? No cuffs? He smiled philosophically and nodded. ‘I suppose so. What about this lot?’
    ‘You could come down the station, report it, make a formal report. We’d get the burglary looked into, you’d eventually get a crime number to give to the insurance company… ’ He glanced knowingly at Constable Scott. ‘Or you could just buy yourself a new DVD player and a burglar alarm.’

 
11
 
 
    Monday . 2pm .
     
     
    ‘Drennan.’
    Michael Tyler looked up from his newspaper and put down his coffee mug as he watched Drennan nod, grunt and curse responses into his phone.
    He finished the conversation and ended the call before looking up a number from the contact list in his computer. He punched the number into the phone and plucked the receiver from the cradle.
    ‘It’s me. No sign of anything inside the place sir but they found blood in the garden and on the wall. Looks like he jumped over and maybe cut through to the other street or jumped into another garden… no sir, still no sign… of course, as soon as I get anything… I do have people in the Met I could try if you like but personally I think that we might be putting our head above the parapet a little if we went to them yet and discretion is the key… yes… yes… I will sir. Goodbye.’
    Tyler didn’t speak but his expression asked all the questions.
    ‘They said there was nothing in the flat but that there was blood on the door handle. Probably tried to get in but found it locked. They gave it a good going over but it was this morning and they didn’t want to hang around in there too long. Looks as if we still have a loose end.’
    Tyler span his own chair and started clicking through different applications on the PC on his own desk and began making calls. He passed a list of numbers to Drennan that had churned out of the printer and the two of them spent half an hour dialling numbers and chattering politely to a succession of people, some of whom they knew, some they didn’t.
    Drennan let the receiver drop before he finished dialling the next number when he saw Tyler concluding a conversation with a smile. He sat expectantly as Tyler repeated his thanks several times and then put the phone down looking pleased with himself.
    ‘Just got someone in the Charing Cross A and E who let slip that they had someone come in Saturday night with a serious neck wound.’
    ‘That’s our Tony. What’s that, a mile or two from Fulham?’
    Tyler nodded. ‘Got to be him. She said they had no idea who he was because he had no ID on him and he didn’t regain consciousness.’ Tyler paused then. ‘Died on Sunday.’
    Drennan smiled a