The Fourth Bear полностью

A workstation was to one side of the open-plan living room. There was space for a laptop, and a power cable lay loose on the desk with a printer cable. Her laptop, Jack decided, must be either with her or at The Toad’s newsroom. There were several snaps of Goldy and companions stuck on a bulletin board along with some Post-its. The top one grabbed his attention, and he pulled it from the board. It was from someone named Mr. Curry and was an invitation for dinner the previous Friday, the day after Josh had last heard from her. The drawers of the desk yielded nothing of interest, just personal matters regarding financial concerns and her membership in the Austin owners’ club. Jack noted the number of Goldy’s Somerset: 226 DPX.

“She’s not away on a trip, Jack,” said Mary on her return from the bedroom. “All of her suitcases and toiletries are still here. It’s a single woman’s flat, but she has a boyfriend who stays on a casual basis. There’s a second toothbrush and a pair of boxer shorts in the laundry.”

Jack showed her Goldy’s passport.

“Not out of the country, then.”

“Well, well,” came a crackly unfiltered-Camels voice from the doorway. “Detective Inspector Spratt.”

They both turned to see a middle-aged woman in a black suit. Her features were pinched and pale to the point of cadaverous, and her clothes hung loosely on her bony body. She stared at them with the ease of someone who was used to giving orders and used to having them taken. She wasn’t alone. Her companion was a man who was twice as big and eight times the volume. He was dressed in an identical black suit that seemed too small for his bulk. He had a shaved head, a badly broken nose and shoulders that sloped at forty-five degrees from just below his earlobes. Jack could see a curly earpiece barely visible running up from his collar. They looked like bouncers with poor fashion sense on a day trip.

“Detective Chief Inspector,” corrected Jack.

“Congratulations, Spratt—have you met Agent Lunk?”

Jack nodded a greeting in his direction.

“Mnn,” said Lunk.

“Mary, I want you to meet Agent Danvers,” explained Jack,

“NS-4’s finest. Remember the goose we gave to National Security after the Humpty inquiry? Well, it went through Agent Danvers here.”

“Oh,” said Mary, “did you discover exactly how the goose laid all those golden eggs?”

Danvers’s face fell. “If I ever find out that you swapped the goose,” she growled at the pair of them, “you’ll both be finished.”

“Mnn,” said Lunk.

“We were just chatting with Vinnie Craps,” said Jack. “He told us he’d been in contact with NS-4. Is that the reason you’re here?”

“Never heard of him. NS-4 is a big department. We bully and intimidate a lot of people, so it’s hard to keep track of names. What’s your interest in Miss Hatchett?”

“It’s a potential missing-persons inquiry.”

“Do you know where she is?”

“No, that’s what the ‘missing’ in ‘missing persons’ means.”

Danvers bridled slightly, but Jack didn’t care. He’d had dealings with Danvers and National Security before, and he’d always come off worse. Most people did.

Jack asked, “Why do you want to know where she is?”

Danvers beckoned to Agent Lunk, who moved into the flat and started to look through the drawers and bookshelves in a half-assed display of searching.

“What was the story she was working on?” asked Danvers.

“I’ve no idea.”

“Don’t lie to me, Inspector,” she replied, removing her dark glasses to reveal two red-rimmed, unblinking eyes. “I’m the good side of NS-4. If you prefer, I can ask Mr. Demetrios to speak to your commanding officer. Do you want me to make you tell us?”

“If you want me to repeat myself with Briggs present, be my guest. Now: What’s your interest in Miss Hatchett?”

“NS-4 is a one-way conduit of information, Inspector. I’ve told you too much already.”

“Too much? You haven’t told me anything!”

“I’ve told you I don’t know who Vinnie Craps was,” said Danvers. “Consider yourself fortunate to get even that.”

“Really?” replied Jack sarcastically. “Thanks for nothing—and you guys should get a better tailor.”

Danvers said nothing, Lunk reappeared empty-handed, and they both left without another word.

“Spooks,” murmured Mary as soon as the door had shut behind them. “I hate spooks. Who was the Mr. Demetrios she was talking about?”

“The grand fromage at NS-4. Not a pleasant chap, apparently. The story goes he’s got so much dirt on everyone that no one dares fire him.”

“I see. It’s a shame we didn’t get anything out of them.”

“We did. Lunk was only searching for our benefit. They’ve already been through the flat.”

“So what’s National Security’s interest in Goldilocks?”

Jack shrugged. “I don’t know, but they seem anxious to learn about the story she was working on. Intriguing, isn’t it?”