Free The Da Vinci Deception by Thomas Swan Page B

unthinking, stupid fool. I have spent too much time and too much money to have this project go wrong.” His fat body shook in angry frustration. “I warned you to curb your impulsiveness, and I don’t know what alternatives you had, but this way there are none. After they discover the body the police will swarm over the library, all of Windsor, and half of London. They do that when one of theirs is killed. Accident or not. Everyone will be questioned. You were seen with her in the hotel.”
    â€œThe place was crowded with weekenders. We didn’t leave the library together; in fact the guard saw Sarah leave before I called for him to lock up.”
    â€œSmall points but in our favor. Tomorrow you will do two things. First you will go to where the Evans woman lived and search for other papers. And second, you will return the Leonardo to the library.”
    â€œI’m not a bloody lackey and I’m not a magician who can slip in and
out of a strange house because you snap your damned fingers and say so.”
    Jonas reacted instantly. He thrust a hand at Tony’s face and snapped his fingers twice, then once again. “You’ll do as I tell you. Suppose a team of investigators goes through her papers, and suppose there is a complete file on you, and then suppose they get suspicious and find the slimmest piece of evidence you were in her car.”
    Tony gave an acknowledging nod. “But the drawing. You said Stiehl needed it for two days. And the police. They’ll come prowling.”
    â€œI’ll deal with Curtis, and as to the police, it seems that if you had anything to do with the woman’s death, the library would be a most unlikely spot for you to be.”
    â€œBut there’s a risk.”
    â€œYou sent someone off on a death ride and didn’t think that was taking a risk? Are you completely stupid?”
    Jonas shook with anger. “You had four months to bring the drawing out, and when you did, you bungled. There’s still a chance you can cover yourself but you must find if she had a file on you. You have until the morning to find a way to clean up the bloody trail you’ve left.”
    Another snifter of brandy arrived and Jonas waited until the waiter was out of sight. “Where is her home?”
    â€œIn Battersea,” Tony answered. “I’ve got the address.”
    â€œDid she have a family?”
    â€œI don’t know. There was a photo of a small girl in her purse.”
    â€œI want you to meet me in St. James Square after you’ve gone through her papers. Be there no later than 9:30.”
    Tony looked at his watch. “That’s less than twelve hours from now. That’s bloody goddamned impossible.”
    Jonas stood. “Which will it be? Run from a murder charge until they catch you or deal with the impossible?”
    Jonas did not swirl the heady liquid onto the sides of the snifter, then patiently inhale the rich fumes. Instead he drank it in a single swallow, then strode quickly from the room.

Chapter 7
    T he rain had ended but the air remained heavy. The early-morning sun could not penetrate the thick, low clouds. Detective Superintendent Walter Deats’s car turned off Datchet Road and stopped near a low, stone fence. A police sergeant came to the car and touched the peak of his cap in an informal salute.
    â€œSorry to bring you out but we might have a puzzle here and I thought you ought to see everything before we remove the body.”
    â€œJust my luck, Randy. It’s my first free Saturday in a month.”
    The superintendent climbed from the car and the two set off for the torn Rover that still lay on its side. Deats was a man of medium build, in his mid-forties, and nattily dressed. His full mustache curled up at the ends and he wore dark-rimmed glasses that were more often held like an actor’s prop than worn to aid his vision. They covered half the distance when Deats stopped. He looked