Ghosts of Empire by George Mann

Ghosts of Empire by George Mann

Author:George Mann
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Titan


THIRTEEN

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate what he’s trying to do for us. He paid for us to come all the way out here, to give us time together, away from all that business back home.” Donovan chewed on the end of his cigarette. He was feeling agitated. It was cold out, and the streets were slick with the aftermath of a sudden downpour. He was beginning to get a sense that the weather here—like his mood—was eminently changeable.

He knew he wasn’t being fair to Flora, dragging her all the way out here. But what else was he supposed to do? He couldn’t stand by and allow Rutherford to lead Gabriel and Ginny on a wild goose chase around London, while the men who had tried to kill them made good on their escape.

“I think I know what’s coming next, Felix,” said Flora, from beside him. She sounded more amused than concerned. “You’re going to say ‘but I’m a cop, and I should be out there helping them, and they’re making a mistake’. Or something along those lines, anyway.”

Donovan turned to look at her, and couldn’t help but grin. She hit him playfully on the upper arm. “You know me too well,” he said.

“I know that the man I married wouldn’t sit by while his friends put themselves in danger. No matter what they thought about it. I’ve told you before, Felix, you don’t have to make allowances for me. I wouldn’t have married you if I hadn’t known what I was getting into.”

“I know,” said Donovan. “It’s just… it’s Rutherford’s case. And if he doesn’t want to listen…” He flicked the butt of his cigarette into the gutter. Close by, cars and omnibuses streamed past in a seemingly endless parade, stirring puddles of surface water and belching thick black smoke in their wake.

“You’ve never let that stop you before.”

“No, but it’s always been on my own turf. That’s the difference. What if I’m wrong? If there’s something I’m not seeing?”

“And what if you’re not?” said Flora. “Look, this isn’t getting us anywhere. Trust your gut, Felix. Do what you think is best.”

Donovan had reached the street corner, and paused outside a tall, pentagonal brick tower, which looked like to him like the bizarre offspring of a neo-classical temple and a local shop. It had clearly been boarded up for some time—white paint was flaking off the brickwork, the hoardings were damp and partially rotten, and trash was collecting in the grounds. Dead leaves from the surrounding trees were slowly turning to mulch. He could smell the mold from the street.

“That’s exactly what I am doing.” He put a hand on her arm. “I’m just going to be a few minutes, alright? Then we can go and get some lunch, wait for the others back at the hotel.”

“Why, what is this place?” She looked up at the tumbledown building in confusion.

“This is City Road Underground station,” said Donovan. “The concierge at the hotel told me how to find it. It’s been closed for years.



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