Jon Courtenay Grimwood by End of the World Blues

Author:End of the World Blues [Blues, End of the World]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2011-04-29T21:00:00+00:00

“We think so. Actually,” said the Brigadier, “we know, because seven weeks ago Scotland Yard finally asked a member of Flyte’s family for DNA to help make a match. My problem is I thought he’d been killed by the man who telephoned you.”

Kit looked up. “You know who that is?”

“Oh yes,” said the Brigadier. “We know. And the fact he thinks Mr. Flyte is still alive is extremely convenient. Now, Inspector Avenden tells me this child is being held somewhere in South London, in a club—at least, so you believe. Do you want to tell me how you reached that conclusion?”

Kit scowled at Amy.

“What did you expect me to do?” she said.

Raising her eyebrows, the Brigadier asked, “Is there anything about you two I should know?” It probably didn’t help that Kit and Amy shook their heads at exactly the same time.

“Neku’s photograph was packed in pages from last week’s South London Gazette, ” said Kit. “The Lambeth edition. The box in which it came originally contained Walkers Crisps, 144 packets. When I took the call I could hear music and the sound of crates being shifted…”

“He’s good,” said the Brigadier.

Amy’s smile was sour. “Yes, so I said.”

“We run a program,” said Brigadier Miles. “It identifies someone who knows someone who knows someone we need to contact. It works by weighting age, location, schooling, and background and then assigning a score. Amy came out on top. So we borrowed her…”

Kit blinked. “From the police?”

Amy bit her lip. “From Ceausescu Towers. I’m a recruiter on the university milk run. ‘Come and work for Mi6, it’s not dangerous and the perks are great. Olympic size swimming pool, gym, discount shopping mall. Join us and you’ll never need to leave the office again.’”

She didn’t sound too impressed by her job.

“Why not just call me yourself?” asked Kit, looking at the Brigadier, who ground out her cigarette and immediately lit another. Her smile made Amy’s look positively sweet.

“You’re a deserter,” she said. “A known link to the Yakuza. You returned to Britain alongside last season’s version of the Kray Twins. A woman the Sun has managed to turn into the UK’s most unlikely cultural icon. Just imagine your reaction if we’d called by Hogarth Mews suggesting a chat.”

“So you sent Sergeant Samson instead?”

“We’ll get to him in a minute. But first, would you like some tea or coffee?”

“No,” said Kit, “I’d like to know what you’re doing about Neku.”

“Nothing,” said the Brigadier.

Kit stared at her.

“We know your friend is still alive,” said Brigadier Miles. “And I’ve borrowed a pair of SBS to watch the club. If things look risky I’ll have them extract her.”

“What are their chances of getting Neku out alive?”

Beside him, Amy winced.

“They’re the best,” the Brigadier said. “Statistically, the SBS extract more hostages with fewer casualties than any other European force. You really want that child in danger, I’ll have them withdraw.”

He’d offended her.

Damn it. Kit sat back in his chair. Walk with a man a hundred paces and he’ll tell you at least seven lies.

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