The Curator (Washington Poe) - Page 110

‘There’s the hotel, Poe!’ she yelled into his ear.

He strained but could see nothing.

‘You lead, I’ll follow,’ he told her.

With renewed purpose they headed off again.

Chapter 73

With a fixed bearing to walk towards, they finished the last half mile in good time and were soon in Poe’s X1, heater on full, edging out of Shap Wells Hotel. The wind was blowing the snow off the tarmac and into the gorse and bracken and his winter tyres and four-wheel drive were more than a match for the steep road leading up to the A6.

They were soon on the relatively quiet M6 and, as they had moved off the high ground of Shap, the weather began to ease. It was still snowing but at least visibility was above zero. Poe tried Nightingale again but there was still no service. He pressed his foot down hard on the accelerator and the BMW responded.

Sixty.

Seventy.

Eighty.

He kept it there, as fast as he was willing to go in these conditions. Anything above would be reckless and he had Bradshaw to think of as well as Flynn.

‘What’s happened, Poe?’ Bradshaw said. ‘Why is DI Stephanie Flynn in trouble?’

He told her what he knew.

When he finished he glanced across. Bradshaw was trying out the words. Silently, as if she wouldn’t believe them until she’d tested them on herself.

‘But why, Poe?’

He told her what he thought. Couldn’t believe what he was being forced to say. It was horrific but it was the only thing that worked all the way to the end.

When he was done, she looked at him and then at the dashboard.

‘So why are we going so slow?’

He pushed his foot to the floor and they watched the speedometer hit one hundred and keep moving clockwise.

He tried Nightingale again. This time he got a dial tone.

‘Poe?’ she said. ‘Everything all right?’

He told her what he knew. She didn’t interrupt.

When he’d got to the end, she said, ‘Let me get back to you.’

Five minutes later she rang back. Her voice was hoarse, as if she’d been yelling instructions. She was outside now and on the move. She had to shout to be heard.

‘What the hell’s going on, Poe? We can’t raise DC Coughlan or DI Flynn!’

Poe nodded grimly.

‘And let me guess: DC Coughlan volunteered to do an extra shift?’ he said.

Nightingale paused. ‘How the hell could you know that? I’ve only just found out myself. He radioed to say he would do a double. My inspector saw no reason not to let him.’

Poe said nothing.

It was happening now.

Tags: M.W. Craven Thriller
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