The Becket Approval by Falconer Duncan (best big ereader .TXT) 📗

He closed the door behind him and took off his coat. ‘Nice neighbourhood.’

‘A gift from my parents.’

‘Very generous.’

‘What I mean is they died. I’m an only child.’

She went into the kitchen while he looked around the simple but tasteful furnishings. A picture of a man in senior police uniform sat on a bookshelf that contained some high-brow books on philosophy and art. ‘Is this your father?’

‘Deputy assistant commissioner.’

‘Impressive.’

‘He might’ve gone all the way if the big C hadn’t got him.’

‘Was that long ago?’

‘Five years now. Mum died three years before that.’

‘Was he why you joined?’

‘I suppose so. Bit of a family tradition. Granddad made chief superintendent.’ She came in with a couple of glasses of scotch and handed him one. ‘I’ve upgraded your sandwich to chicken and broccoli pasta. Is that okay?’ she asked as she went back into the kitchen.

‘Perfect.’

‘Where are you from? You sound London-ish.’

‘That’s where it all started. Mother was Scottish. My father was military.’

‘They still around?’

‘Mother left him, and me, for a richer, younger model when I was three. Father then went and got himself killed when I was six.’

She paused to look at him. ‘That’s very dramatic. Did your mother take over when your father died?’

‘Nope. I haven’t seen her since she left. I don’t even know if she’s still alive.’

‘You were never curious enough to look for her?’

‘No.’

‘How’d he die?’

‘He was killed in Lebanon while serving.’

‘So who brought you up?’

His phone signalled a message. His expression darkened as he read it. ‘I have to go. Where’s the nearest underground?’

‘About a mile. Where do you need to get to?’

‘Hammersmith and Fulham hospital.’

She could sense his deep stress as he grabbed his coat.

‘I can take you.’

‘I have to go now.’

She hurried into the kitchen, turned everything off, grabbed her coat and headed for the front door. Within a minute they were in her car, speeding up the narrow residential street where she lived to a busy commercial road.

‘Let’s go,’ he said, calmly but firmly.

She gritted her teeth as she pushed her way into a gap. Gunnymede grew impatient with the congestion and reached for a switch he’d identified earlier. A siren burst into life along with an array of concealed strobe lights around the vehicle. ‘Go,’ he commanded. ‘They’ll get out of your way.’

The situation unnerved her but she put her foot down and swerved into the oncoming cars.

‘I’ve never done this outside of training,’ she said over the sirens. And she wasn’t comfortable with it then, either. The first oncoming car veered out of her way, mounting the pavement. The car that followed turned sharply while hitting the brakes and its back end slid round. Bethan swerved an ‘S’ turn to avoid them all and accelerated away. She was at the peak of her abilities and barely holding it together. Once past the congestion, she returned to her side of the road and accelerated into her next overtake position. Traffic lights ahead turned red but she didn’t ease her aggression as she pushed into the junction. Cars either side stopped hard as she sped through.

The final turn to the hospital gates eventually came in sight. She took the corner and he opened his door before she came to a halt. Two flashing police vehicles were parked outside the entrance. She braked hard behind them and Gunnymede ran up the ramp to the main entrance.

A small crowd was gathered in the reception hall, aware something bad was happening. The receptionist saw him and tried to intercept him as he hurried to the double doors.

‘She somehow got the keys!’ she called out to him.

Gunnymede headed along the corridor, towards the congregation room, the only place he’d ever met with Megan. He pushed the entry button and barged the doors open to find the place empty.

He went back along the corridor to see staff hurrying up a staircase. He tore past them to the next floor, through a set of doors into another corridor. Several police officers and staff were focused on a door, trying to open it. A nurse was banging on it anxiously while another attempted to push a key into the lock.

Gunnymede arrived and assessed the door. It was solid. A small reinforced window was in its high centre. He leaned over the others to look through it. A white, sterile room, a table and chair. A pair of feet off the floor against the wall, unsupported.

He stepped back to think quickly. An officer shouldered the door followed by a heavy boot but it didn’t budge. A few feet away, fixed to a wall, Gunnymede saw a fire extinguisher. He grabbed it, raised it as he went back to the door and without a warning slammed it into the small window, smashing it inwards. The officers and nurses jerked back in shock.

Gunnymede punched the glass until it fell away, reached through with bleeding knuckles and felt for the handle. He found the key in the lock, turned it and the door opened.

Megan was hanging by her neck, her swollen tongue out, eyes bulging. He lifted her up, knowing she was dead but he had to do something. The officers quickly joined him. A nurse stood on a chair and grabbed at the knot in the cable around her throat, the other end tied to a conduit. She couldn’t untie it. An officer handed her a penknife. She cut furiously, the wires inside the plastic coating making it difficult. With a supreme effort she managed to sever it and they lowered Megan to the floor.

Her face was blue. Her expression glazed. Gunnymede stared at her in disbelief.

Nurses elbowed their way through and tried to revive her. It was their duty though all knew it