January Window by Philip Kerr Read Free Book Online

Robert Enke should have done it, but I’d always hoped and believed that my old team mate might turn his life around. After all, I was living proof that you could come back to football after a disaster. Wasn’t I?
    I sat in an armchair with my iPad and spent another hour watching a selection of Drenno’s best goals on YouTube. These were some of the sweetest strikes I’d ever seen and a few of them had had an assist from me, which was nice, but the accompanying music – Pink Floyd’s ‘Shine On You Crazy Diamond’ – while wholly appropriate for a man like Drenno, did nothing for my spirits. And I started to weep once again.
    I was about to go back to bed when I noticed another text from Maurice, asking me to call him urgently. So I did.
    ‘What now?’ I asked.
    ‘Sorry to call you again, and so late, but I’m at the Crown of Thorns,’ he said. ‘And I think you ought to get down here as soon as. Something’s happened. Something unpleasant.’
    ‘Like what?’
    ‘Not on the phone, eh? Just in case. Walls have ears.’
    ‘They wouldn’t dare. Not after paying me all those damages for hacking my phone.’
    ‘They might, you know.’
    ‘It’s two thirty in the morning, Maurice. I just lost a good friend. And we’ve got a training session at ten.’
    ‘So let someone else take it.’
    ‘You really think I need to come to Silvertown Dock? Tonight?’
    ‘I wouldn’t have called otherwise.’
    ‘No one’s dead, are they?’
    ‘Not exactly.’
    ‘What the fuck does that mean?’
    ‘Look, Scott, I can’t handle this on my own. I can’t get hold of João Zarco, Sarah Crompton, and Philip Hobday is away on Sokolnikov’s yacht.’
    Philip Hobday was the London City chairman and Sarah Crompton was the club’s public relations officer.
    ‘I really don’t know what the fuck to say here,’ he continued. ‘And I’m going to need to say something. You’ll understand why when you get to Silvertown Dock.’
    ‘Say something to who?’
    ‘The fucking press, of course. They were here before the police. It looks as if some fucker from Royal Hill tipped them off.’
    ‘Royal Hill? What’s that?’
    ‘Greenwich Police Station. Look, trust me, it’s important you get here and as soon as possible. Seriously, Scott, this is a situation that is going to require some delicate handling.’
    ‘I’m not sure I’m the right man for that job. Especially with the press. Where they’re concerned I feel like I’m wearing boxing gloves when I speak to them. But I take your point. You’re right, you’re right. If it’s serious, you need me the same way I need you.’ I glanced at my watch. ‘I’ll be there within the hour.’

6
    In the event it took only half an hour to drive the ten-mile journey from my flat off the King’s Road to the East End. There aren’t many people on the road at that time of the morning but the press were there in force when I arrived. As I approached the gates of the club car park they surged towards the Range Rover to see who I was. At the same time I wondered what was so interesting at Silvertown Dock that it could have diverted them from going to Wembley Way; I didn’t know it at the time but Wembley Way was equally popular with journalists that night. There are more newspapers and television stations in England looking for a good story than you might think. Especially when it’s a story about football.
    I drove up to the gates of the club car park and waited for our security men to let me in. It was raining heavily now and while I was waiting I switched off the windscreen wipers just to deny the many waiting photographers a better shot of my tired and probably miserable face. The floodlights were on inside the stadium, which was very strange at nearly three in the morning.
    ‘Scott! Scott! Scott!’
    Since I had no idea of what to expect when I got inside the stadium I thought it best not to say anything. That suited me just fine as I don’t like talking to the papers any