Something Wicked Read Free Page A

no protest, they’ll take over the whole country piecemeal. German civilians are pouring into the Sudetenland and, as they take jobs and businesses, refugees – not only Jews but Czech patriots of all kinds – leave for Prague. The city’s full to the brim of the dispossessed sitting in cafés making one small cup of coffee last a whole afternoon.’
    Edward nodded his head. ‘I suspect the great British public isn’t interested in Czechoslovakia. They’d not support the government if they promised to go to the aid of the Czechs.’
    ‘And the British press won’t kick up a fuss about what Hitler is doing in Europe. We’re so bloody cosy behind our moat. The editor spikes most of my reports and Joe Weaver lets him. But I just know it’s all going to blow up while I’m tied to this bloody bed.’
    It was rare to hear Verity swear and it signalled how depressed she was. Before he left the hospital – promising to return early the next day – Edward found the doctor who had examined her. He was a brusque young man – busy, efficient and not unsympathetic but he refused to allay any of his fears.
    ‘Come back tomorrow, Lord Edward. We’ll have the results of the tests and the X-rays before midday. Then we can decide what to do. One thing I can tell you – it will take a while before Miss Browne recovers her strength. I know mentally she’s not one to give up the struggle but physically she’s at the end of her tether. She’s going to need a lot of looking after.’
    ‘Answer that, will you, Fenton?’
    Edward was stropping his razor – a ritual he enjoyed. He found it made him relax. He owned a safety razor, of course, but the whole business of soaping his face with the shaving brush and the feel of the cold blade against his skin was how he preferred to greet the day. He did not like being interrupted and so it was with irritation that he had heard the insistent ring of the telephone and with surprise bordering on indignation that he now heard Fenton at the bathroom door.
    ‘It’s Chief Inspector Pride, my lord. I told him you were engaged but he insists on talking to you. He says it’s urgent.’
    Edward reluctantly wiped the soap off his face with a towel and pulled on a dressing-gown. He had to admit he was curious. He knew Pride of old but had not seen or talked to him for at least eighteen months. What had suddenly made him telephone at – he glanced at his watch – eight fifteen, before the day could properly be said to have started?
    He grabbed the receiver. ‘Pride? Is that you?’ He had a sudden thought that he might want to talk to him about Verity. She was so often at odds with authority but he quickly remembered that, whatever problems she had to face, the police would not be one of them.
    ‘Sorry to bother you so early, my lord, but I wonder if you could come up to Devonshire Place, number sixty-two?’
    ‘That’s Eric Silver, my dentist’s address. What on earth are you doing there, Chief Inspector?’
    ‘It says in the appointment book that you saw him at five yesterday evening.’
    ‘That’s correct. I was his last appointment.’
    ‘His receptionist tells me that he usually had a five-thirty but he’d cancelled that appointment and sent her home early.’
    ‘That’s right. He wanted to consult me about something. Why, what’s the matter? Is Silver all right?’
    ‘I’m afraid not, my lord. He’s been murdered.’
    ‘Murdered!’
    ‘Yes, the receptionist – Miss Wilton – came in twenty minutes ago and found him in his chair. Someone had used his drill to make a hole in his head. And a very messy business he made of it.’
    Edward almost dropped the receiver. ‘That’s horrible, disgusting. Who on earth would do such a thing? I say, Chief Inspector, you don’t think I had anything to do with this, do you?’
    ‘I do, I’m afraid. I found a piece of paper – a page torn out of the appointment book as a matter of fact. On it were written in block capitals the