Time to Kill by Brian Freemantle Read Free Book Online Page B

walk back the way he had come. Within minutes Slater was comfortably in position ten yards behind, eight people separating them as a convenient barrier if the tall man turned to check his back. He hadn’t by the time they reached the grassed square, which he started to cross towards the White House and where Slater chose for them finally to meet.
    â€˜Let’s sit here, on one of the benches,’ said Slater, coming up from behind.
    â€˜Jesus!’ exclaimed the man, visibly jumping.
    â€˜You Peebles?’
    â€˜Of course I am. What the hell’s going on?’
    â€˜My being careful is what’s going on.’
    â€˜I just wasted an hour back there at the hotel.’
    â€˜Forty-five minutes,’ corrected Slater. ‘Let’s sit on the bench, like I suggested.’ He waited for Peebles to lower himself before following.
    â€˜What is it you want?’ demanded Peebles. He was visibly flushed, embarrassed at his startled reaction.
    â€˜Why’d you write the letter?’
    â€˜It was spelled out. It’s regulations.’
    â€˜I wasn’t told that – warned about any release letter – when I went into the programme.’
    â€˜That was spelled out, too. There’s been a lot of amendments. Six or seven maybe, since your case. I think the warning clause was included in the Witness Protection and Interstate Relocation Act of 1997: H.R. 2181.’
    â€˜Don’t you know!’
    â€˜That was the statute.’
    Slater didn’t believe it was; Peebles was making a wild guess. ‘Mason got twenty years. It’s only been fifteen.’
    â€˜He got maximum remission, apparently. A model prisoner.’
    â€˜Is he already out?’
    â€˜In four or five weeks.’
    â€˜Which penitentiary?’
    â€˜I’m not sure I’m allowed to tell you.’
    â€˜Which penitentiary?’
    â€˜Pennsylvania.’
    Close, thought Slater. Almost too close. ‘Where’s he going?’
    â€˜How the hell do I know? If I did I certainly wouldn’t tell you.’
    â€˜I don’t think it was very secure, telling me in a letter like that.’
    â€˜It’s the system.’
    â€˜Everyone like me get such a letter, simply sent through the mail?’
    â€˜There aren’t a lot of people like you,’ said Peebles, in weak sarcasm. ‘Guys who’ve been involved in criminal cases, organized crime prosecutions, sure, all the time.’
    â€˜How many people like me have you sent such letters to?’
    â€˜If I was asked that by somebody else like you, would you want me to answer?’
    â€˜The letter said if I had any cause or reason for further information I was to call you,’ reminded Slater. ‘How many calls do you get from defectors?’
    Peebles hesitated. ‘You’re the first I’ve had.’
    â€˜What about your department?’
    â€˜We don’t share cases,’ lied Peebles, his embarrassment turned to anger at believing he had been made to look stupid.
    â€˜You any reason to believe I am at any risk from Mason’s release?’
    Peebles looked sideways along the bench in genuine astonishment. ‘Absolutely not! I told you, he’s been a model prisoner. He wouldn’t have got maximum remission if there was a history of threats, would he?’
    â€˜You’re not operational, a field agent, are you?’
    â€˜What’s that got to do with anything?’
    â€˜Maybe a lot. Perhaps we’ll need to keep in touch?’ suggested Slater. There’d been little to arouse any professional fear. What incongruities there had been were easily accountable by the fact that Peebles was clearly a back office clerk.
    â€˜If there is a need, let’s do it properly next time, OK?’
    â€˜Very much OK,’ came back Slater. ‘You need to talk to me you do just that, telephone and arrange this sort of meeting. Not send a letter that could have been