Free Strange Tide by Christopher Fowler Page A

hat and gave it a bash on the door handle. ‘Of course, it’s more useful to remember where your keys are than to recall the details of Charles II’s exile in Holland, but that’s just the way my mind works. I can’t bear those people who only talk about arthritis and ring roads and television and mending gutters, although one does recognize the need for them, if only because they occasionally provide babies who grow up to be more interesting.’
    â€˜That’s generous of you,’ said May, not without sarcasm. ‘I have a dilemma.’
    â€˜Ah. What to do with me, I imagine.’
    â€˜Precisely so.’
    â€˜I’m not having a carer.’
    â€˜No, but the problem is suddenly pressing.’
    â€˜You mean a case has come in.’
    â€˜You have an encyclopaedic knowledge of the Thames. I really need your help but I can’t risk you wandering off again. Arthur, I’m trying to be delicate about this—’
    â€˜Please don’t be. Delicacy is the curse of the Englishman.’
    â€˜That morning on Waterloo Bridge.’
    â€˜Ah.’ Bryant’s face scrunched into a map of wrinkles as if the thought pained him.
    â€˜I thought I’d lost you. I watched you head off into the fog to say your goodbyes to London and honestly thought I’d never see you again. You can be a right sod sometimes.’
    Bryant bounced back in his seat. ‘I have the theatrical gene. And I
did
go to say goodbye to London. But perhaps London isn’t quite finished with me.’
    â€˜What do you mean?’
    â€˜I mean that there are still a few things I have to do.’
    â€˜Dr Gillespie doesn’t think you have much time left.’
    â€˜What if I stayed at the office and didn’t take on any fieldwork, would that satisfy you?’
    â€˜I’d much rather you were in the office, but it’s not up to me,’ said May, wiping condensation from the window and gazing out into the sodden November world. ‘I’m afraid it’s Raymond’s decision.’
    Bryant brushed aside the idea. ‘Oh, I can wrap him around my little finger.’
    â€˜Not this time, old sock. The PCU’s performance is being monitored. Raymond’s being watched every step of the way. City of London HQ know about your doctor’s report and they don’t want you anywhere near the case. They need to see how the unit fares without your help.’
    â€˜So they can take away its powers once I’m gone,’ scoffed Bryant. ‘What if nobody knew I was there?’
    â€˜How would that work?’
    â€˜Get me picked up and dropped off at the building in the morning, send me home by cab at night. No one from outside would need to know.’
    â€˜If they found out, we’d be for the chop.’
    â€˜Then they won’t find out,’ said Bryant, attempting to look innocent. ‘I promise. We must stand firm and do what we know to be right. We always knew this day was coming. You have to lie.’
    â€˜Wait a minute,’ said May, ‘what happened to “we”?’
    The taxi had stopped a little way before the great bronze statue of Isaac Newton at the British Library. ‘The traffic’s bad,’ said Bryant. ‘Before we arrive at the unit why don’t you quickly fill me in?’
    â€˜All right,’ May conceded, realizing he had agreed to do something illegal without actually saying he would. ‘A young woman was found on the Thames foreshore this morning, on the site of the old Tower Hill Beach near the Queen’s Stairs. She’d been chained to a stone post by her left wrist some time the night before and left to drown. The tide had come in and gone out, but we have some remains of footprints. Unfortunately they belong to only one person going in one direction, down to the water.’
    â€˜Well, that throws up at least a dozen anomalies in itself,’ said Bryant,