The Tower: Part Two. Simon Toyne

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ simulations on Hogan’s Alley kicking in as adrenalin and muscle memory took over and the words of Agent Williams whispered in his head: try not to put yourself in any situation where you may have to draw this weapon.

      So much for that.

      Franklin took up a position by the door and gestured for Shepherd to take the other side. ‘Remember this is not a drill, Agent Shepherd. This is the house of a suspected terrorist we are entering and, though I don’t think we’ll find anyone inside, I’d rather be prepared than dead. So nice and slow, just like you were taught and do not move until you are covered.’

      Shepherd got in position. Franklin reached forward, turned the handle and threw open the door in a single smooth movement.

      Time stretched slow as the door swung wide revealing a yawning darkness beyond. Shepherd tensed, his pupils full wide, watching for movement. Franklin moved forward, gun first, the beam of his Maglite probing the dark in a sweep from left to right. Shepherd followed, keeping close, going right to left until the beam of his torch crossed Franklin’s in the centre of the hallway.

      No one there.

      They moved quickly and silently through the rest of the house – cover and move, cover and move – until they had satisfied themselves that Dr Kinderman was not here and neither was anyone else. It didn’t take them long. The house was not that big.

      Franklin hit the lights and they stood in the middle of the modest living-room-slash-kitchen-slash-dining-room taking in what they had previously only glimpsed by torchlight.

      If anything, the inside of Dr Kinderman’s home was even less impressive than the outside. A small oak-floored hallway led away from the front door to three others: a small bathroom, a bedroom, and some wooden stairs leading down to the basement. ‘Tell me, Agent Shepherd,’ Franklin said, ‘you ever seen inside a safe house or a terrorist cell?’

      ‘No, sir, I have not.’

      ‘Well, look around, they look exactly like this. Functional, clean, unlived in.’

      ‘We don’t know that he’s a terrorist.’

      ‘No, but the evidence is stacking up wouldn’t you say?’ He nodded at the large picture of Christ the Redeemer hanging above the fireplace, arms outstretched and looking down at the sprawling city of Rio de Janeiro. ‘Pierce didn’t think Kinderman was religious.’

      ‘Maybe he just likes big statues, or Brazil.’

      ‘Or maybe he found God on the quiet and felt so bad about sticking his telescope up the Almighty’s nose that he switched it off and ran for the hills.’

      Shepherd shrugged. ‘I guess anything’s possible.’

      ‘I guess it is.’ Franklin pointed at the bedroom. ‘Take another look, see what you can find, I’ll check the rest.’

      The bedroom was as plain as the rest of the house, the picture hanging over the neat double bed the only clue as to the person who slept there. It showed The Pillars of Creation from the Eagle Nebula, clearly a favourite image for the man who had been responsible for discovering them. Shepherd felt odd standing here, in the private space of one of his heroes. It seemed like an intrusion and his presence implied a degree of complicit agreement in Dr Kinderman’s as yet unproven guilt. He put it from his mind, swapped his gun for the blue Nitrile gloves and got to work.

      The wardrobe held lots of white shirts, pressed and cleaned and still in their laundry wrapping, a few suits of the tweedy, academic kind Kinderman favoured and four pairs of identical black, wing-tipped shoes, polished and lined up on newspaper, ready to be stepped into. There was a gap where a fifth pair would fit, presumably the ones Kinderman was now wearing.

      The drawers contained more clothes but no answers. There were no new death-threat letters stashed away at the back of the sock drawer, no drugs or guns or dubious pornography or bundles of money or anything else that implied a secret, dangerous life. Everything was neat, tidy and unremarkable. He finished his search and stood for a moment in the centre of the room, taking in its incredible ordinariness. It felt like Kinderman might have just stepped out for a late supper and be coming back soon. Part of him hoped he would, but the chaos of his office at Goddard told a different story. Shepherd flicked off the light and closed the door on his way out.

      He found Franklin in the living room, hunkered down by the fireplace. ‘Take a look at this.’ He pointed at a fire basket containing a few logs, some sticks and several old newspapers. ‘Notice anything funny about the papers?’

      Shepherd picked one up. It was a copy of the New York Post, a relatively unusual paper to find in Maryland. On the cover was a picture of a man dressed like a monk, standing on top of a dark mountain with his arms outstretched, looking just like the statue in the picture above Kinderman’s fireplace. Shepherd checked the date. The paper was eight months old. The story of the man climbing to the summit of the Citadel in the ancient city of Ruin had been more or less a front-page fixture in the spring. Recently Ruin had been in the papers again, this time because of the sudden outbreak of a viral infection that had resulted in the entire city being quarantined.

      Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

      Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

      Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

      Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

iVBORw0KGgoAAAANSUhEUgAAAgkAAAMgCAIAAAAm1GblAAAACXBIWXMAAA7EAAAOxAGVKw4bAAAH aWlDQ1BQaG90b3Nob3AgSUNDIHByb2ZpbGUAAHjalZVZVJMHHsX/35KVkEAIEJDlg7AbSEBkFQqE VfZVwJUkHxAJJCZhq2LpqIjiAlYsVRAVpI4riFAcl0pFK+JYgQq44AZapVgVR9SplnngzLEvnXPm Pv3OPee/PN0LQOcFh4aEoUEA+QU6TVJECJGekUnQhgEDFJhAA+csmVYNfy0EYHoIEACAQVdplERS n+958Fhz2DQvv641kcXNh/8thkyt0QFQewCgV05qZQC0agBYV6xT6wDgJQDwNClJEgAEB6Csz/kT S//EmvSMTABqJQDwcma5HgB40lluBQBeekYmMXv208+yQk3RrIeeBQAmGIM1uIAnBEIUJMNSyAUN lMFGqIF6aIFWOAOX4AbchnF4Ae8RDGEjfESAuCLeSAgSgyxCspA8pAgpRzYjtUgjchg5hZxHepFB ZBR5ikwhH1EaaohaoA6oGPVHw9AENBMlUTW6Gq1Aa9B69BDajn6P9qHD6Bj6Av2A0TFjzBYTYQuw KCwNk2Ma7AtsK7YHO4x1YZexm9g49hpHcUP

СКАЧАТЬ