The Demon Code by Adam Blake Read Free Book Online

the quicker you get the guy where he wants to go, the less you get paid.’
    Izzy threw herself on the bed next to Kennedy and snuggled in close. ‘It’s not about the money, babe,’ she said. ‘I’m a professional.’
    ‘Of course.’
    ‘And my standards are very high.’
    ‘I know that.’
    ‘It’s like you wouldn’t respect a bullfighter who left a bull hanging on in agony instead of finishing it off.’
    ‘Right. Because that would be inhumane.’
    ‘Exactly. Or in a cockfight, if you got the cock all psyched up for the fight, and then—’
    ‘Could we,’ Kennedy asked, ‘move away from the animal comparisons?’
    Izzy rolled over on top of her and then sat up, smiling down at her, straddling her waist. ‘But I didn’t get to the bucking bronco.’
    Kennedy raised the phone, like a barrister presenting evidence in court. ‘I’m working,’ she said.
    ‘Uh-uh.’ Izzy shook her head, still playful. ‘When I’m on the phone, I’m working. When you’re on the phone, you’re getting other people to work for you.’
    ‘Like you get other people to come for you,’ Kennedy said. Once it was said, it sounded a lot colder than when it was inside her head.
    ‘Well, that’s the name of the game, babe.’ Izzy took one last shot at salvaging the mood: ‘You want to help me beat my record?’
    Kennedy felt claustrophobic, trapped not by Izzy’s weight on top of her (which she could bear very easily; had often rejoiced in bearing) but by the invitation to pretend an easy intimacy that she couldn’t feel right then. She hesitated. Words assembled themselves on her tongue that her mind refused to parse. She was about to say something horribly hurtful and destructive.
    The phone saved her. It vibrated in her hand, giving off a sound like a hornet trapped under a glass. Kennedy shrugged a half-hearted apology to Izzy, who climbed off her and sat back.
    ‘That was fast,’ Kennedy said, after seeing the caller display.
    ‘What can I do for you, ex-sergeant?’ John Partridge asked.
    She made a show of hesitation. ‘Well, it’s a big favour, John.’ She let the words hang in the air for a moment, to see whether he’d stop her or encourage her.
    ‘Go on, Heather. Coyness doesn’t become you.’
    That was all the encouragement she needed. She gave him a thumbnail sketch of the case, then came right to the point. ‘You used to work at Swansea, didn’t you, John?’
    ‘I was in charge of their post-grad physics programme for three halcyon years. Before the Tories, when they still had funding. Why do you ask?’
    ‘Do you think they’d let you borrow the Kelvin probe?’
    Partridge laughed – a short, incredulous bark. ‘It’s not a case of borrowing the Kelvin, ex-sergeant. It’s just a big barcode scanner with a computer attached. But there’s no point having the Kelvin without an operator. And those ladies and gentlemen are like the saints of a new religion. Generally whatever time they take off from research is booked six months in advance.’
    ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘No harm in asking.’
    ‘I didn’t say no,’ he pointed out. ‘I’ll see what I can do. But they’ll laugh their legs off when I tell them they’re investigating a break-in. Mass murders are more their style.’
    ‘Thanks so much, John. You’re an angel.’
    ‘Fallen. Say hello to your lady love for me.’
    ‘I will.’ Kennedy hesitated. ‘How’s Leo these days?’
    ‘Quiet.’
    ‘That’s good, right?’
    ‘No, that’s just Leo. He’s quiet when he’s bad, too. But in this instance, I think he’s quiet because he’s working. So perhaps “non-existent” would have been a better word. I haven’t heard from him in months. If you need to get a message to him, though, there’s a café in Clerkenwell that he uses as a poste restante. You’re one of the three people I’m officially allowed to give the address to.’
    ‘No need, thanks. But send him my love, next time you see him.’
    ‘I will. And I’ll