Judgment Clay by Ian Jarvis

Author:Ian Jarvis
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: sherlock, conan doyle, holmes, mystery, crime, british crime, detective, murder, whodunnit, thriller, England, Britain, English, British
ISBN: 9781787054240
Publisher: Andrews UK
Published: 2019-05-07T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 24

Quist sat in Churchill’s office smiling warmly at the leader of the White Rose Party across the desk. Something was wrong, but the detective’s calm expression didn’t betray his confused thoughts.

Why had he pressed the concealed alarm? What was going on here and why had the man’s attitude suddenly changed?

“Interesting,” said Churchill, examining the SS dagger. Standing and moving to a wall safe behind the desk, he shielded the keypad from Quist with his body and entered the combination. “You’ve had this knife for years, you say?”

The detective glanced at the glass cabinet of books on the opposite wall. “Yes, a much-loved piece of Nordic Aryan memorabilia that I’ve always...”

“We both know that’s bullshit.” Churchill placed the knife in the safe along with the cash, slammed it shut and twisted to glare furiously at his visitor. “It’s time to stop lying. Who are you and how did you get that knife?”

Quist’s mind raced. Churchill knew the dagger wasn’t his. Did he recognise it as belonging to Stefan Schneider, but if so, how? Were the two connected in some way?

One thing was certain, using it to gain his trust had been a colossal mistake. His thoughts had been on the creature in Beverley all morning and he hadn’t given this meeting enough consideration.

“Mister Churchill,” he said, “I don’t know what I’ve done to cause offence, but I assure you, my intentions are...”

“The dagger,” snapped Churchill. “You should have inspected it more closely before using it as bait. The tiny letters AW are etched into the hilt below the swastika.”

Yes, thought Quist. I saw them, but I stupidly dismissed them.

Alerted by the concealed desk buzzer, two large men opened the door and strode in. Their denim jackets, grossly enlarged muscles and streetfighter faces told Quist they were probably part of Churchill’s Task Force. He noticed the bruises and realised this could be the pair mentioned by Rex earlier. Still smarting and raw from the beating at Sedgefield, Harvey McMurdo and Pete Ryder took up intimidating positions on either side of the seated visitor. If the Easter Islanders manufactured bookends, they’d doubtless look like this.

“Is there a problem, Sir?” asked McMurdo, his voice a threatening growl.

“Yes,” said Churchill. “A huge problem for our big-nosed friend here if he doesn’t tell me how he came by a certain knife.” He walked to the detective and loomed over him. “You see, I know who owned it and it certainly isn’t you. What do you know about these murders?”

“That’s a bizarre question,” said Quist. “What murders?”

“Dylan Taylor in Robin Hood’s Bay, and I’ve just heard that his brother Stephen Taylor was found dead by the postman this morning. An acquaintance of mine named Lee Millican was also killed in Scarborough on Monday.”

“Well, obviously I know nothing about any of this and I honestly can’t imagine why you’d ask.” Quist looked puzzled. “Stephen Taylor hasn’t been in the media.”

“No, I have a contact in the police.”

I’ll bet you do, thought Quist. One or two police officers have occasionally been known to hold racist views.

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