Blowback by Denis Kilcommons

Author:Denis Kilcommons [Kilcommons, Denis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Silvertail Books
Published: 2024-09-26T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 23

The weekend was like a hole in reality. Lacey had climbed through and zipped it shut behind him.

Rossington-Hall had not bothered him since Friday afternoon and Lacey suspected he had calmed down after seeing the French had made no connection between the SIS and what had happened in Arras. His attitude might change, however, when the DST asked about the relevance of the newspaper cutting that had been found in Capaldi’s wallet.

Lacey had left all the problems behind him in the office. He and Susan had enjoyed a relaxed Friday evening. Saturday had slipped by with television sport, and dinner in the country, and Sunday had been a wallow in indulgence. They had read all the newspapers in bed before walking in warm sunshine to the pub for a traditional roast beef lunch and alcohol, and, in late afternoon, had gone back to bed for a nap. It seemed they had spent most of the day without any clothes on, an experience Susan described as decadent and which Lacey said was highly enjoyable.

He allowed business back into his mind as he settled for sleep late Sunday night. He scrolled it on to his closed eyelids: the events that had happened, reports he had read, background information he had been told, suspicions, speculations, theories, possibilities.

When he had run the lot, he was content to let it lie in his subconscious without attempting to shuffle it into a conclusion. He slept, for some reason confident that the next day would bring answers.

*

Monday started early. Beckindale called at six and asked for a breakfast meeting. Lacey told him he didn’t eat breakfast. Beckindale said that was OK, he could slurp coffee and smoke cigarettes for half an hour, just as long as he went to the apartment at St Katharine’s Dock and listened.

The weather remained summery and reinforced his positive frame of mind. He transferred from a mainline train to the tube at Charing Cross and walked from Tower Hill. It wasn’t yet eight o’clock, but the sunshine had brought a group of American tourists out early from the hotel by Tower Bridge. Their multi-coloured leisurewear made them look like a protected species as they waited in a brood, presumably for a bus to take them to Windsor or Stratford in search of history and stories to take home.

Lacey was impressed with Beckindale’s apartment. It was on the third floor of a converted warehouse and had views of the river and Tower Bridge. On the ground floor were high-class shops and restaurants and out front was a marina packed with boats.

‘The apartment belongs to the embassy,’ Beckindale said. ‘I was lucky to get it. It came vacant just at the right time.’

Either that or somebody at the embassy wanted to stay on the right side of Captain America.

The place had been furnished with elegance and a large cheque book. This was an apartment reserved for the most senior of diplomats and gave another indication of the circles in which Beckindale moved. The neatness of the interior was a reflection of the man.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.