Kennedy 04 - The Broken Circle Read Free Page A

waiting for him at headquarters.
    ‘The boss wants to see you, Max,’ DS Fletcher announced.
    Fletch was sitting at his desk, pen in one hand and a bacon sandwich in the other. In fact, now Max came to think about it, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Fletch without food in his hand.
    ‘OK, Fletch, thanks.’
    ‘The second you arrive,’ he added.
    ‘So if he asks, I haven’t arrived yet. OK?’
    ‘OK,’ Fletch agreed amiably. ‘He doesn’t sound terribly happy,’ he added, ‘so you might want a brew first.’
    Max groaned. ‘What’s rattled his cage now?’
    ‘Your guess is as good as mine,’ Fletch said, licking melting butter from his fingers.
    ‘Doesn’t that lovely wife of yours feed you?’
    ‘Not often enough. By the time the kids have been fed, the day’s gone.’ His eyes took on the usual dreamy expression at mention of his daughters. ‘It’s OK, though. I won’t starve.’
    ‘I can see that.’
    Fletch looked down at the amount of stomach that was hanging over his belt and sucked in a huge breath. ‘It’s all muscle.’
    ‘Yeah, yeah.’
    Max went to his office, but decided to save the brew till later. He was curious, but not particularly worried. His boss was rarely ‘terribly happy’. No capacity for happiness, Max supposed. No sense of humour.
    His phone rang and he was pleased to see it was Ben calling from France.
    ‘Hi, son. How’s it going?’
    ‘It’s dead boring,’ Ben complained.
    ‘You only arrived yesterday,’ Max pointed out. ‘Give it a chance.’
    ‘But we’ve got to go and look round a boring old museum this morning. I hate museums.’
    ‘It’ll be fascinating.’
    ‘You reckon?’ Ben scoffed, and Max couldn’t in all honesty say he did.
    ‘Anyway,’ Ben went on, ‘I just thought I’d ring to see if the dogs are OK.’
    ‘The dogs are fine, yes. I’m OK, too. Thanks so much for asking.’
    ‘Ha, ha.’ Max could hear the amusement in his voice, could picture the smile on his face.
    They chatted for a couple of minutes, then Harry came on the phone. Max wondered why he worried about them so much. They were fine, not a care in the world, other than how they might escape the boredom of a museum, which was as it should be.
    Half an hour later, unable to guess what today’s bollocking would focus on, Max finally gave up. He didn’t have a clue. So now he was extremely curious.
    He took the stairs to Phil Meredith’s office, knocked on the door and stepped inside.
    ‘Where the bloody hell have you been?’ Without waiting for an answer, Meredith spat out, ‘You’ve really blown it this time. You’ve been warned countless times, but you take no notice whatsoever. A law unto yourself. Always bloody have been.’
    Max still had no idea what he was talking about. One thing was certain, his boss was furious.
    Meredith had recently taken to wearing contact lenses, probably because he thought they looked better for the TV appearances he loved so much, and they had a habit of making his eyes water. His brown hair was thinning on an almost daily basis so Max suspected the next thing would be a wig.
    ‘Sorry, but you’ll have to give me a clue,’ he said.
    ‘Don’t you get bloody funny with me!’
    ‘I’m not,’ Max said patiently. ‘It’s just that I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about. I’m a detective. I work better with clues.’
    ‘I’ll give you clues all right. Thomas McQueen.’
    ‘Ah.’ It was two months since he’d been warned—officially—to keep away from McQueen.
    ‘Ring a bell, does it? I thought it might. I will not have my officers harassing a—’
    ‘Villain?’ Max supplied helpfully.
    ‘He’s an innocent man. An innocent man who had dinner with the Chief Constable a fortnight ago.’
    ‘You’re kidding me?’ Max had to laugh at the absurdity. ‘God, I knew he was conning his way into polite society, but that’s really taking the piss.’
    ‘It’s not funny. As far as we