NO KISS FOR THE DEVIL (Gavin & Palmer 5) by Adrian Magson Read Free Book Online Page B

editor
thought she was bored with the same old same old. I can relate to that. His
assistant said she’d asked recently if they’d ever covered the Russian
oligarchs as a topic.’
    ‘Rich Russians?’
He chewed it over. They were as much in the news for buying football clubs and
large chunks of the London property market as they were for their on-off
relationships with Moscow. Maybe Helen had stumbled on a juicy story and was
testing the water.
    ‘She also rang
last week and asked for any outstanding fees to go to a woman at an address in
Hampshire.’
    Another
surprise. Helen had centred her life on London, apparently eager to be where
the action was. She’d never mentioned anyone outside the capital. ‘A family
member?’
    ‘I was hoping
you’d know the answer to that.’
    ‘We didn’t get
to that level.’ He was aware that his voice was probably tinged with regret.
‘She didn’t talk about herself much,’ he explained. ‘But then, neither did I.’
He held her gaze. If Riley had any thoughts about men’s lack of curiosity about
the women in their lives, she wasn’t saying anything. ‘It seemed to suit us
both. You’ve done good work. Thanks.’
    Riley stood up
and dug out the sheet of paper Emerald had given her. ‘Here’s the address. We
could take a look tomorrow, if you like.’
    He scanned the
details. Helen had definitely never mentioned a connection with Hampshire –
certainly nobody close enough to have sent money to. ‘Why wait?’ He glanced at
his watch, suddenly taken by the idea of doing something positive. ‘Like now.’
    ‘I can’t.’
Riley waved an apologetic hand. ‘I’ve got a meeting this afternoon to pitch for
a job. I have to get my glad rags on and act civilised. You know how it is.’
    Palmer knew.
Like Riley’s assignments, most of his jobs came along by word of mouth or
through Donald Brask. But every now and then, he had to do his own legwork to
help things along. The brutal reality was, if freelances didn’t pitch, they
didn’t eat.
    ‘Do you mind if
I do it?’
    ‘Of course not.
Just don’t frighten her, that’s all. She could be a frail old biddy with a weak
ticker.’
    He nodded. It
was also highly likely that the woman in Hampshire might not know about Helen’s
death. Springing the news on her could be disastrous. It was a lesson he’d
learned first-hand in the RMP, when delivering bad news to someone in married
quarters, after an accident in training or at a local pub.
    He tucked the
paper in his breast pocket. He had a sudden thought. ‘Back at the site, did you
notice signs of another car?’
    ‘No. It was too
dark. And Pell didn’t say anything. Why?’
    ‘Because it
would have taken two people to get Helen there: one to drive her car, the other
to help dump the body, then drive them away. A single man dumping the car and
moving away on foot would have been noticed.’ He was trying to picture the
scene as Riley had described it. The car had been dumped at a remote spot, but
less than two hundred yards from the road. Other than forcing it into the
undergrowth, there had been no elaborate attempt to hide anything. Why?
    ‘Why leave her
outside the car?’ Riley wondered aloud.
    Palmer
shrugged. ‘Maybe they didn’t care. Or they were interrupted while moving the
body and didn’t have time to conceal it. I think they took her there in a
second, larger vehicle.’
    ‘Why larger?’
    Palmer knew all
about VW Golfs; he had spent enough time in Riley’s to know them inside and
out. ‘Because a Golf is hardly the best car to drive around with a body on the
back seat. Too easy to see inside. They’d have used something bigger.’
    ‘So all we have
to do is find the other vehicle.’ Riley looked sceptical. It would be like
looking for a grain of sand – and where did they even begin?
    ‘We’ll find
something.’ Palmer twisted the whisky glass in his fingers. Somehow it had
emptied without him realising it. He put it down on the coffee table