48 Hours: A City of London Thriller by J Jackson Bentley

Author:J Jackson Bentley [Bentley, J Jackson]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Genre Fiction, Action & Adventure, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Thrillers, Thriller, london, blackmail, bodyguard, josh, blackberry, hammond
Amazon: B0049U4AVM
Barnesnoble: B0049U4AVM
Publisher: Fidus Publishing
Published: 2010-10-27T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 50

Ashburnham Mews, Greenwich, London. Thursday, 11pm.

I was lying flat on my back with my hands between my head and the pillow. I couldn’t sleep. It seemed to me that if I was on a jury I would convict Lord Hickstead on the basis of the evidence that was already available. Although I understood that much of it was circumstantial, it was beginning to become overwhelming.

The police were testing the Polaroids for fingerprints and were quite hopeful of finding definite proof. When the fingerprint technician collected the photos, he said that the chemical process used by Polaroid to develop the picture in the camera leaves a soft residue on the surface which brings out the ‘ridges and whorls’ of a fingerprint very nicely.

The police had been busy, and had tracked down photos and other details of all those known to own an Old Navitimer Mecanique by accessing the DVLA database of driving license photos and the Passport Agency’s database, which included details such as height and distinguishing marks. Lord Hickstead was the only man on the spreadsheet, provided by Breitling, who matched the description given by Nour and De Montagu in terms of height, build, ethnicity and eye colour. Nikon UK had helpfully taken the Breitling list and checked it against their registered owners of the P100. The only match had been Lord Hickstead.

Vastrick Security had also been working hard to build a full profile of Lord Hickstead, from his schooldays to the present. The file was thick with copies of his school reports and certificates, his university papers, his Trade Union activities, his numerous complaints about me and his insurers, press cuttings and a video from YouTube showing him being humiliated on screen by Don Fisher. There was whole section dedicated to his relationships with the victims of his blackmailing scheme. It consisted of lists of names derived from school, university, Trade Union Membership records, director information from Companies House and AGP’s list of individuals who travelled to the Partners’ meeting with Andrew Cuthbertson.

Between them, the police and Vastrick could connect Hickstead with three dead bodies and two living blackmail victims. They could also place him in South Africa and Thailand, where 48hrs.co.za was based and registered.

Dee came out of the en suite bathroom and looked at me. She scowled.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.

“Hmmm. Typical man,” she murmured, climbing into bed and back towards me.

“Have I done something wrong, Dee?”

“You don’t even know, do you?”

I scoured my memory banks for what I could have done to offend her, and came up blank. I tried again.

“I’ve had a lot on my mind. Have I missed something?”

Without turning around she said sharply, “Last night was our first week anniversary and you said nothing, did nothing and just let it pass. Hmmm.”

I was taken aback. I hadn’t realised that Dee needed that kind of reassurance. I turned on my side and placed my hand on her shoulder. “Sorry, Dee, it was thoughtless of me.”

Her shoulders shook under my hand. Was she sobbing? She turned over and lay on her back and now I could see that she was laughing uproariously.

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