‘We’ll keep his room sealed until the police get here.’ She coughed. ‘I mean, I knowyou’realready here and you’re with the police, but…’
‘I know what you mean,’ I said distantly.
I had the impression that Kennard was relieved that Tony’s passing hadn’t been more bloody and that nobody else was involved. It made things easier for both her and the hotel. Despite Tony’s rank and profession, the fact that he’d done this to himself meant the ensuing investigation would be minimal. Once the police had made their initial examination of the scene and Tony’s body was removed, the coroner’s assessment would no doubt edge towards death by misadventure. Nobody would want to advertise the fact that a Metropolitan police detective had died by strangling himself in some bizarre sexual game, even if that detective had been hidden away in Supe Squad.
I lowered my cup. It was the ideal way to kill someone if you wanted to make sure that nobody looked into their death too closely. If two police officers in the same department both had their throats slit on the same night in different locations, all hell would break loose and the fallout would be unprecedented – especially given what had happened to Tony’s flat.
I sprang to my feet. ‘You wouldn’t show me the CCTV or the room records before. Surely you can now.’
Kennard looked vaguely alarmed. ‘We should wait for—’
I hardened my voice. ‘Show me.’
She muttered something under her breath, then her jawline tightened. ‘Very well.’
She brought up the files on her computer screen and swung it round it to me. ‘The front desk has already isolated the footage of his entry into the hotel.’ She clicked on an icon. ‘Here.’
We watched as Tony strolled through the hotel lobby to the front desk. He was wearing the same clothes he’d been in earlier that day. There was a brief exchange of words as he passed over his credit card and received the room key card. He sauntered over to the lifts, his body language displaying no hint of what was to come.
‘The security system is computerised,’ Kennard told me. ‘He entered his room at 12.32am last night. His door hasn’t been opened since, we’re certain of that.’
I passed a hand over my face. I didn’t believe I was wrong about this. ‘Where’s Tallulah?’ I asked.
Kennard blinked. ‘Pardon?’
‘His car. He had a car. He must have parked it here.’
She checked his details. ‘Yes,’ she said finally. ‘He registered it when he checked in. It’s in the underground car park.’
I didn’t say another word. I grabbed my crossbow, nodded at her and walked out. This wasn’t over – not by a long shot.
***
Even at that time of night, the DeVane car park was well lit. Unfortunately, that didn’t help me find Tallulah any quicker. All the other cars were large, luxurious beasts so, although the scrappy purple Mini was certainly unique, she was hidden from view by the towering vehicles that surrounded her.
I marched down one side of the car park and came up short before swivelling and preparing to return in the opposite direction. That was when I caught the flickering shadow out of the corner of my eye about fifty metres to my right
It could have been anyone. This was obviously a well-used car park, so the chances were that it was merely one of the hotel valets. All the same, I slowed my steps, glad that my scruffy shoes had soft soles. Then I heard a rattle, followed by the sound of tearing plastic. The shadow in question was trying to break into one of the cars – and there was only one car down here that had plastic on it. I’d bet my soul on it.
I raised myself onto the balls of my feet and controlled my breathing as I
uncocked the safety on the crossbow. I edged closer until I confirmed that I was right; someone was indeed rummaging around Tallulah’s interior. Whoever it was, they must have squeezed in through the broken rear window before shimmying through to the front seat.
I stopped and waited for the sneaky bastard to either emerge or drive away. I was neither shaking nor afraid; my only feeling was cold, grim determination.
There was a faint click as the car was unlocked from the inside. A moment later, I spied a dark head appearing from the open door. This was no car thief: the fucker was searching Tony’s car. For what, I didn’t know – but I was definitely going to find out.
‘Police!’ I yelled. My voice echoed round the car park. ‘Stop right there!’
‘Should I put my hands up, D’Artagnan?’ Lukas’s now-familiar voice drawled. ‘Or should I freeze?’
I hissed. Of course it was him. ‘Put your hands up, turn around and freeze. In that order.’
He did as I asked. I expected to see a smug smirk on his face, but his expression was serious. He glanced at the crossbow and raised his eyes to mine. ‘I’m glad to see you took my advice and armed yourself properly. Do you know how to use that thing?’
I ignored his question. I was the one in charge, not him. ‘What are you doing here?’
His response was mild. ‘The same thing you are, I imagine.’
