Free The de Vere Deception (David Thorne Mysteries Book 1) by Loy Ray Clemons Page A

opened the door to his suite, he found a bellman placing his suitcases on the luggage rack in the corner of the spacious white marble and black granite-tiled room. The cheerful Freddie was sprawled in a comfortable chair. “You don’t mind if I wait around while you unpack, do you David?”
                “No, of course not. By the way, I think I’ll go over to Harrods first thing and see if I get clothes Kirk-Halstrom might approve of.”
                They both laughed.
     
    A light snow began to fall as Thorne left the May Fair and walked down Stratton. He turned onto Piccadilly, and soon found himself on the walkway bordering Hyde Park. A light dusting of November snow covered the ground and the bare limbs of the leafless trees. As he traveled to the west, he tried to imagine what the park would be like in the spring and summer. He imagined there would still be nannies lined up on the benches watching their charges in their trams, and Bobbies strolling about, pleasantly tipping their hats to the ladies. It would be nice if England still retained vestiges of the Victorian era’s elegant ambience.
     
                Harrods is the most famous department store in London—and possibly the world. The store is located in the Knightsbridge area in Brampton Road, a few streets south of Hyde park.
                The saying goes, “If you can’t find it at Harrods it doesn’t exist.”
                Thorne had reluctantly accepted a five-thousand pound expense account at Harrods to buy suitable English-style clothes and shoes as well as other incidentals. Raskin had suggested he buy as much high quality clothing and incidentals as he needed at Harrods. Initially, he thought the amount was exorbitant. At the time, five-thousand British pounds was equal to around ten-thousand US dollars.
                He was surprised to find five-thousand pounds didn’t go far at Harrods. Austin Reed suits cost seven-hundred pounds; Burberry all-weather coats topped out at over a thousand pounds; Church’s and Alan MacAfee shoes cost four-hundred pounds; and quality luggage was five-hundred pounds, plus. Shirts, shoes, ties, and sweaters ranged from one-hundred to two-hundred pounds each. Other incidentals quickly used up the five-thousand pounds.
                He could now pass for a properly attired Englishman—that’s, until anyone heard him speak. He was told the alterations for his suits and coats would take two to three days, but decided to wear the double-breasted Burberry outer coat, a wool muffler and a tweed cloth hat.  He was glad to have the added warmth as the weather was turning foul.
     
                Victor Roberts was fingering ties at a display counter as Thorne descended the escalator. He broke off, and followed Thorne through the revolving doors, stopping at a newsstand to buy a copy of the Daily Telegraph . Mike Kelly observed Thorne’s reflection in a store window, and fell in step with Roberts as he followed Thorne from a hundred feet back. Both men dodged the oncoming pedestrian traffic in an attempt to gain on Thorne, but were stymied by a large group of Japanese tourists.
                Recognizing and avoiding tails had become second nature to Thorne. When he was out in public he used a simple system that was standard for private investigators. He would stop immediately in front of a shop window, and using the reflection, quickly survey the crowd behind him. If he saw a reaction from anyone, he would repeat the procedure later. If he saw the same person and same reaction, he was alerted and quickly ditched the tail. Fortunately, he recognized Mike Kelly and assumed the small hatchet-faced man with Kelly as the man Eddie Davis in Georgie’s had mentioned. He turned into a fish and chips shop quickly and threaded his way through the diners to a rear door. Once in the alley he found an unlocked rear door to another shop and