Paper Money by Ken Follett

Author:Ken Follett
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
Tags: Mystery & Detective - General, Detective, Conspiracies, Mystery & Detective, Fiction - Mystery, Fiction, Suspense Fiction, Thrillers, General, Intrigue, Espionage, Journalists
ISBN: 9780451167309
Publisher: Penguin Group
Published: 1987-07-15T21:08:58+00:00

The young constable seemed to take command.

He waved Kevin toward Fitzpeterson. "Talk to him!" he said. Then he took a radio from his breast pocket and spoke into it.

Kevin took the politician's shoulder. The body felt curiously dead under the dressing gown.

"Wake up! Wake up!" he said.

The policeman finished on the radio and joined him. "Ambulance any minute," he said. "Let's walk him."

They took an arm each and tried to make the unconscious man walk. Kevin said: "Is this what you're supposed to do?"

"I bloody well hope so."

"Wish I'd paid attention at my first-aid classes."

"You and me both."

Kevin was itching to get to a phone. He could see the headline: I SAVE MINISTER'S LIFE. He was not a callous young man, but he had long known that the story which made his name would probably be a tragedy for someone else. Now that it had happened he wanted to use it before it slipped through his fingers. He wished the ambulance would hurry.

There was no reaction from Fitzpeterson to the walking treatment. The policeman said: "Talk to him. Tell him who you are."

This was getting a bit near the bone. Kevin swallowed hard and said: "Tim, Tim! It's me."

"Tell him your name."

Kevin was saved by an ambulance in the street.

He shouted over the noise of the siren: "Let's get him onto the landing, ready."

They dragged the limp body out through the door. As they waited by the elevator, the policeman felt Fitzpeterson's heart again. ""Struth, I can't feel nothing," he said.

The elevator arrived, and two ambulance men emerged. The elder took a quick look and said:

"Overdose?" "Yes," the policeman said.

"No stretcher, then, Bill. Keep him standing." The policeman said to Kevin: "Do you want to It was the last thing Kevin wanted to do. "I should stay here and use the phone," he said.

The ambulance men were in the elevator, supporting Fitzpeterson between them. "We're off," the elder said, and pressed the button.

The policeman got out his radio again and Kevin went back into the flat. The phone was on the desk, but he did not want the copper listening in.

Maybe there was an extension in the bedroom.

He went through. There was a gray Trimphone on a little chip board bedside unit. He dialed the Post.

"Copy, please ... Kevin Hart here. Government Minister Tim Fitzpeterson was rushed to hospital today after attempting to commit suicide point paragraph. I discovered the comatose body of the Energy Ministry's oil supremo after he had told me comma in a hysterical phone call comma that he was being blackmailed point par. The Minister ..."

Kevin tailed off.

"You still there?" the copy taker demanded.

Kevin was silent. He had just noticed the blood on the crumpled sheets beside him, and he felt ill.

WHAT DO I get out of my work? Derek Hamilton had been asking himself this question all morning, while the drugs wore off and the pain of his ulcer became sharper and more frequent. Like the pain, the question surfaced at moments of stress.

Hamilton had

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