TURKISH DELIGHT Barry Faulkner (i love reading txt) 📖

‘Okay, call me when you stop at wherever it is they’re going.’

‘Will do.’

I thought it best to avoid my office; once the bodies were found I could expect a visit from Rambart. Nothing I had said to him could tie me into it, but he might think it highly coincidental his warehouse got a visit so soon after his visit to me – well, wouldn’t you?

Gold didn’t call me until I was home and brewing up a coffee – home being a two bedroom apartment in a modern serviced block overlooking the Thames and Jubilee gardens at Waterloo. Costs a bomb, but being serviced nobody gets in that doesn’t live here, and anybody visiting has to get past the security chaps on the door who ring up for permission first. That way I know who’s coming up and know who – if anybody – has been asking for me. Nobody had tonight. The underground car park also gave a separate way out if I ever needed to leave without using the main doors. Well you never know, do you? The final piece of my security was that the apartment was not leased in my name –  George Hadlow was who I was registered as with the landlord. George was the first name I’d come across on a gravestone in a great plague cemetery off the York Road. Nobody would be able to trace him, that’s for sure. A man I know who knows another man who knows a man who does fake passports and credit cards provided me with all the documentation and references I needed to secure the lease. It’s not what you know in this world, it’s who you know.

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CHAPTER 9

Gold was following Rambart’s car off Park Lane and through a side street before it turned off and disappeared down a ramp into the Hilton Hotel car park. She couldn’t follow as the barrier was key card protected, so she drove on and found a place to park a few hundred yards away; double yellow lines, but Nevis could pay if there was a ticket on her windscreen when she came back. She hurried to the hotel; it was busy – very busy. A coach load of tourists were signing in; not much chance of spotting Rambart and the other man in this crowd, but she did the rounds and checked the restaurants and bars in the hope she’d see them. No joy. Oh well, plan B then.

She walked through the foyer to the ground floor corridors that led to the rooms. As she expected, the half moon side tables at corridor junctions each had a vase with a large bunch of fresh flowers in the middle. She stopped at one, checked around to make sure she was alone and lifted the flowers out, wrapped their stalks in the small table covering cloth and made her way to Reception. The Reception desk was very busy – good, that meant they wouldn’t want to waste time on a delivery girl. She approached the nearest receptionist and interrupted her dealings with a resident signing in.

‘Delivery for Mrs Rambart,’ she said with a smile. ‘The lady must have an admirer.’

The receptionist returned the smile – she didn’t really want to, she’d rather tell this courier to piss off or wait at the back of the queue. But she wasn’t allowed to express her real feelings, not in this job – best to get rid of the pest. ‘We haven’t any staff free at the moment, you’ll have to take them up yourself if she’s in. Sorry.’

Gold nodded. ‘Okay, I’ll have to be quick though – taxi’s waiting.’

The receptionist checked her screen. ‘What is the name?’

‘Rambart.’

‘You’re in luck, it’s occupied. 324, it’s a suite on the third floor,’

Gold nodded her thanks and made her way to the lifts. There was a crowd waiting for them so she took the stairs and on the first floor dumped the flowers on the first table in the corridor and made her way out of the hotel and back to her car. No ticket.

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I was taking my first sip of a welcome cup of coffee and just switched on the TV when Gold called.

‘He’s got a suite at the Hilton.’

‘Really? Living the life, eh?’

‘Yes, they drove into the Hilton car park so I had to park about a bloody mile away and walk back. I checked the Reception area and restaurants – couldn’t see them, but it was busy so I could have missed them. I nicked a bunch of flowers out of a vase and played the delivery scam – he’s in suite 324.’

I was surprised. Top class hotel reception staff wouldn’t fall for the delivery scam and would never give out room information; apparently the Hilton isn’t a top class hotel.

‘Good work,’ I congratulated her. ‘I’ll check tomorrow and see if it’s a permanent booking – probably is. You want to sleep here tonight?’

‘No, I’ve got a few things to do at home. You in the office tomorrow?’

‘No, I’m going to play safe and stay away for a couple of days. Once Rambart hears about the goings on at his warehouse he might want to have a chat with me.’

‘Yes, probably would. Okay, I’ll see you for lunch at the usual place about one tomorrow. I’ve got some unfinished business with Lord Herbert of Chantbury to sort out in the morning.’

I laughed. ‘Okay, take care.’

I sat back and taking Woodward’s mobile from my pocket I sent him the pictures from the warehouse. He wouldn’t be able to say I was slacking on the job.

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CHAPTER 10

The usual place for lunch with Gold was the cafe on the concourse at Charing Cross station; not the kind of place to take anybody you were trying to impress, but the food wasn’t bad