Remember to Kill Me (The Pierre Chambrun Mysteries, 19) by Pentecost Hugh

Author:Pentecost, Hugh [Pentecost, Hugh]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9781480446458
Publisher: MysteriousPress.com/Open Road
Published: 2013-10-07T16:00:00+00:00

Part Three

Chapter One

SO NOW WE HAD a murder on our hands and it changed things in a radical way. The police had been with us for hours since the raid, but we had been running our own show. Now Guardino was in charge of this one detail of our problem. Somehow, though, the good Lord has a way of smiling on Chambrun. The homicide chief for our particular district was Lieutenant Walter Hardy, an old friend who had been involved with our troubles before. He and Chambrun could work together without hostility, they could listen to each other and neither of them be Mr. Know-it-all.

When Hardy appeared in Chambrun’s office after our grim discovery in the basement I felt some of my tensions relax. We had a winning team together again.

‘This isn’t our usual kind of case, Walter,’ Chambrun said, his voice bitter. ‘We know who the victim is. We know why he was killed. We know who killed him. We know where the killer is. And our hands are tied. You can’t go up there and take them without risking four other lives.’

Hardy is a big, blond man who looks more like a slightly befuddled fullback than a sometimes-brilliant crime fighter. He takes it slow and easy and stays with it no matter how long it takes.

‘I’ve started my kind of slow approach, Pierre. It seems this Inspector Brooks used police authority to get the keys to his brother’s penthouse. I should have thought your man Atterbury would have known that Scotland Yard doesn’t have any authority here.’

‘I would have gotten him the keys if he’d asked me for them,’ Chambrun said. ‘He was assigned by the British government to come here to help his brother. He had the right to see his brother’s possessions, papers, whatever.’

Hardy shrugged. ‘He did go up to Penthouse Three, it seems. Your security people up there saw him, questioned him, were satisfied that he had a right to go in. He stayed there nearly an hour, they say. Your switchboard says he made a call to London while he was there.’

‘You know who he called?’ Guardino, who was listening, asked.

‘Lord Huntingdon, chief of British Security. I have a man trying to check with him. Past eleven o’clock over there. The number Brooks called is Huntingdon’s office. We’re trying to find a home number for him.’

‘Twenty-two B has also been calling Huntingdon,’ Chambrun said. ‘I doubt you’ll find him at home. He’ll be wherever they’re discussing what the final decision is to be about the prisoners at that Georgian airport.’

‘We’ll find him,’ Hardy said. ‘Anyway, after an hour, Brooks left Penthouse Three. He spoke to your security people up there. Said he’d found what he wanted. They say he was carrying a manila envelope with him that probably contained papers. He took the front elevator, not the service elevator where you eventually found him. Your people had no responsibility except to make sure he’d gone and they knew exactly who was on the roof—only Mrs.

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