Free Abacus by Josh Burton Page A

Hobbs hit the button for the twelfth floor, Randall took the opportunity to adjust his tie and run his fingers through his hair. “Trying to look good for the dead guy, boss?” Hobbs asked grinning.
    “Listen , big fella, there is nothing wrong with having a bit of personal pride in your appearance. And let’s not forget, there is every chance we will require the ambulance for this job, and as you know the ambulance service is employing all types these days, and among them cute lasses.”
    H obbs shook his head. “You’re always prepared, aren’t you, boss?”
    “You bet,” he replied , brushing lint from his trouser leg.
    The lift doors opened directly opposite room one two one four. With pistols drawn, they hurried from the lift and took up positions either side of the door. Randall rapped on the solid core door. “Sir, it’s the police. If you can hear me let us in and we will have a talk about this.” There was nothing.
    Hobbs banged on the door a second time, this time much louder, but again there was no response. Randall pushed his ear against the door as a loud rumbling shuddered through the building. “Shit, what was that?” He heard the elevator door open behind him.
    “What’s going on? ” the young duty manager said, retreating to the back of the lift. He looked totally freaked by the sight of guns.
    “ Never you mind. Have you got the bloody key?” Randall growled.
    The manager nodded and threw a key from the safety of the lift. “This is the one to the room on the right. I can’t find the one you need. You might be able to climb out on the ledge and get through the window, though. Good luck.”
    “Great,” Randall whispered sarcastically.
    “Well , if that’s all you need I’ll be downstairs,” the manager said as he quickly hit the closed button and headed for the ground floor.
    “Useless bastard .” Randall cursed as he turned and slid the key into the adjoining room door and then quietly pushed it open. Entering the room, he walked over to the window and slid it open as far as he could. Standing back from the window with his hand on his chin, he visualised Hobbs against the opening. It was apparent that only one of them would fit through the gap and it wasn’t the giant. Who bloody says rank has its privileges.
    Hobbs, who was still guarding the front door, poked his head around the corner. “What’s the plan, boss?”
    “ The plan is that I’m going to have to go out the window and climb along the ledge, because your big boof head won’t fit.”
    “ I don’t think you should go. We don’t know who this guy is and he is armed. It’s too dangerous.”
    “There’s no worries, relax, everything will be okay. You just watch the door. I’ll let you in the front door before you know it. The smart money is on him being dead anyway.” Randall sprung up onto the sill and pulled himself sideways out the window as Hobbs returned to his post at the front door.
    The narrow ledge outside was only about a foot wide. He wasn’t scared of heights but the thought of a twelve-storey fall did concern him. He soon realised that he was going to need the free use of both hands to steady himself against the wall. Slowly bending down, he shoved his pistol into his ankle holster. He looked down to the ground below. There were no trees to break a big fall, no café awnings to provide a relatively soft landing, and no freshly laid turf as a last resort, just hard unforgiving concrete. Standing side on, with his rear and palms pressed firmly against the brickwork and toes overhanging, he felt very nervous. On the street he could not recall any breeze, however, up here it was definitely present. The breeze itself was not strong enough to push him off balance, but the sudden gusts mentally unnerved him. As he started the slow sideways slide towards the window, he looked on the ledge ahead and saw a bizarre obstacle in the form of heaped pigeon crap. Rather than try to step over each mound, he