Fatal Last Words

Sixty-four

‘I didn’t go too far, did I, boss,’ Pye asked, ‘offering Fred Noble round-the-clock protection? When I told him I was authorised to offer it, I knew I might be stretching it a bit.’

‘As far as I’m concerned, Sammy,’ Neil McIlhenney replied, smiling across his desk, ‘that warrant card in your pocket gives you all the authority you need. It was a matter for your judgement and it was the right call. His wife was bound to have asked for it anyway, and we couldn’t have refused. How’s Noble taking it?’

‘I don’t think that his own situation’s really dawned on him yet. He’s lost two good friends; that’s all he’s thinking about. When we left, he and Glover’s agent-cum-ladyfriend were looking at the bottom of two whisky glasses and thinking about changing the view. Mrs Noble’s a diamond, though; she’ll keep them on line.’

‘What if he decides to go to the off-licence to restock; or, worse, what if he decides to go to the Oxford, where these writers seem to hang out?’

‘Then his protection officers will insist on going with him, in full uniform. It won’t come to that, though. His wife won’t let him over the door.’

‘What about this project you mentioned? Neither he nor Connelly had a clue about it, you say?’

‘No. I pressed them, but Noble was adamant that neither of the dead men had dropped a clue. Connelly said that she’d only really have been interested when they had something ready to sell. She also said that the buggers were so carried away with the thing that they’d never considered who was going to sell it for them, as in which of their agents.’

‘Or if it would sell at all, I suppose.’

‘Oh no,’ said Pye firmly. ‘They’d considered that all right. Glover told Mrs Connelly that if it worked out, it would be the biggest thing that he and Mount had ever done in sales terms, and that it would make them both international names.’

‘Indeed,’ McIlhenney exclaimed. ‘It’s done that already, if it’s the reason why they’re fucking dead. What’s our next objective?’ he asked.

‘We have two, sir, haven’t we? We need to ask Mrs Mount what she knows about the project.’

‘Her son may be a better source, from what George Regan said; Mount seems to have kept secrets from his wife. . his continuing cigar habit, for one. Mario should be sound asleep right now, but tomorrow morning, his time, he’ll be looking to see what useful traces the late Henry might have left behind him. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear from him. What’s your second step?’

‘It’s got to be this man Coben, hasn’t it? Andy Martin’s visitor. We now have two computer thefts, following on each murder. They point straight to this mysterious project as the reason for the killings. Fuck all to do with a vendetta against crime writers. .’

‘Don’t you prioritise Coben; the boss is dealing with that himself. But are you telling me now that you needn’t have offered Noble protection?’

‘No, not at all. One, maybe I’m wrong and the thefts have nothing to do with the project, and maybe there is a lunatic at work. Two, if they have, if that’s the motive, it’s possible that the killer will assume that if Glover and Mount were involved, then Noble is too.’ He paused. ‘Unless, of course,’ he murmured, ‘he knows who the third partner is. . Noble told us that they reckoned they night need another person, even if it wasn’t him.’

McIlhenney grinned. ‘Or unless,’ he said slowly, ‘the killer is that third man.’