Crossfire by Francis Dick;Felix Francis

Author:Francis, Dick;Felix Francis [Francis, Francis, Dick;Felix]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780399156816
Publisher: Putnam Adult
Published: 2010-08-17T11:29:34.843000+00:00

I hung back as Fred Sutton made his way out of the court building. I didn’t really want to talk to him, but I did want to speak to the unfortunate Mr. Hoogland.

I caught up with him in the lobby. Close up he was even taller than he had appeared in court. I was almost six foot, but he towered over me.

“Excuse me, Mr. Hoogland,” I said, touching him on the arm. “I was in the court just now, and I wondered who you were acting for.”

He turned and looked down at me. “And who are you?” he demanded.

“Just a friend of Roderick Ward’s,” I said. “I wondered if you were acting for his family. None of them seem to be here.”

He looked at me for a second or two, as if deciding whether to tell me or not. “I am acting for a life insurance company,” he said.

“Really,” I said. “So was Roderick’s life insured?”

“I couldn’t say,” said the lawyer, but it was pretty obvious it had been; otherwise, why was he here asking questions and trying to imply negligence by the county council? Insurance companies would try anything to save themselves from having to pay out.

And who, I wondered, was the potential beneficiary of the insurance?

“So were you satisfied with the verdict?” I asked.

“It’s what we expected,” Mr. Hoogland said dismissively, looking past my right shoulder.

Time to dive in, I thought. “Are you absolutely sure that the dead man in the car was Roderick Ward?”

“What?” he said, suddenly giving me his full attention.

“Are you sure that it was Roderick Ward in that car?” I asked again.

“Yes, of course. The body was identified by his sister.”

“Yes, but where is the sister today?” I said. “And is she the beneficiary of your client’s insurance policy?”

He stared at me. “What are you implying?”

“Nothing,” I lied. “I’m just curious. If my brother had died, and I’d been the one to identify him, then I’d be at the inquest.” Mr. Hoogland wasn’t to know that the coroner’s letter to Stella Beecher was in my pocket.

“Why didn’t you say this in court?” he asked.

“I’m not what they call an ‘officially interested party,’”I said. “So why would I be allowed to speak? And it’s not compulsory for members of the deceased’s family to be present at an inquest. Anyway, I don’t have access to the full pathologist’s report. For all I know, he might have already done a DNA test and double-checked it against the national DNA database.”

“Why would Roderick Ward’s DNA be in the database?” he asked.

“Because he was arrested two years ago for breaking windows,” I replied. “It should be there.”

Mr. Hoogland opened a notebook and made some notes.

“And what is your name?” he asked.

“Is that important?” I said.

“You can’t go round making accusations anonymously.”

“I’m not accusing anyone,” I said. “I just asked you if you were sure it was Roderick Ward in that car.”

“That in itself is an accusation of fraud.”

“Or murder,” I said.

He stared at me again. “Are you serious?”

“Very,” I said.

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