Philip Kerr - Gridiron

Grabel rubbed his jaw nervously. 'I'm OK,' he said.

'Your eye. What happened to your eye?'

'My eye?' Grabel touched the skin above his cheekbones and discovered that it felt tender. 'I dunno. Must've banged into something, I guess. Mitch, it's important. Can we go somewhere else? I'd rather not talk in here.'

Mitch was looking over his shoulder at the two policemen. He could see that they were watching him and wondered what their naturally suspicious minds must have thought of the scene being played out here.

'There's something I have to tell you.'

'Allen, you picked a hell of a day, you know that? Richardson is back there on the pool deck with the whole project team. There are two cops over there waiting to speak to me. And Jenny Bao is about to perform a feng shui ceremony to drive the evil spirits out of the building.'

Grabel frowned, then shuddered and grabbed Mitch by the arm.

'What did you say?' he said loudly. 'You said evil spirits?'

Mitch glanced back at the cops again. Now that he was closer to Grabel he could smell him. He was shocked to discover his former colleague was wreathed in the rank, sour-sweet odour of an authentic bum.

'Take it easy will you, Allen? It's just, y'know, the usual feng shui bullshit, that's all.' He shrugged. 'Will you give me a few minutes? I've got to get rid of these cops. Hold on a moment. You'd better not wait down here, Richardson might see you. Why don't you go up to the penthouse? The CEO's private suite. And wait for me there.'

'No way!'

Mitch recoiled from Grabel's explosion of unbrushed teeth.

'Look, I'll wait for you downstairs, in the garage, OK?'

Mitch fixed a smile to his face and walked towards the two policemen.

'What the fuck was all that about?' Curtis said quietly. 'Guy looked like he was a derelict.'

'Maybe he's the architect,' Coleman suggested.

'I'm sorry, gentlemen,' said Mitch, shaking them both by the hand, 'I should have got back to you before now. The report from the Otis engineer has been sitting on my desk since Wednesday morning, but the last couple of days have been just impossible. Let's go upstairs and discuss it, shall we?'

'Should we take the stairs?' Curtis asked pointedly.

'I think you'll find that the report confirms our own examination — the elevators are working just fine. Please,' he ushered them towards the elevators, 'there's absolutely no reason to feel nervous, I can assure you.'

'I hope so.'

The doors of an elevator car opened, but before stepping inside Mitch asked them to hold on and went over to Jenny.

'How are things going?' he asked her.

'This is harder than I thought.'

'I love you,' he said quietly.

'You better had,' she said.

The three men stepped into the car and rode it up to the twenty-first floor.

'We're kind of busy today,' Mitch explained. 'We've got the whole project team on site, checking everything through before we tell the client that his building is ready for occupation.'

'By who?' said Curtis. 'The whole crummy neighbourhood?'

Mitch raised his eyebrows. 'Oh, you mean Allen? He used to work for the firm. I'm kind of shocked myself at the way he's let himself go-'

The car stopped smoothly and the doors opened. Curtis let out an audible sigh of relief.

'Well here we are,' said Mitch. 'Safe and sound. I'm no mechanical engineer, but we had their people check everything, from sheave to microprocessor. They really took it apart.'

He led the way down the corridor and into the boardroom. The double height space was the length and width of a tennis court and covered with a deep-pile carpet that had been chosen for its sound insulation properties as much as for its light grey colour. In the centre was a beautiful polished ebony conference table with eight black Rennie Mackintosh ladder-back chairs on each side. At one end the wall was filled with bare black shelves dominated by a wide-screen television set, and a bank of electronic devices including a computer. The other end of the boardroom was fitted with a walk-in closet that contained a bar. Ranged underneath the enormous window was a long black leather sofa. Curtis walked over to check the view. Nathan Coleman went to take a closer look at the electronic gadgets. Mitch flipped open his laptop, inserted a disc and started to scroll up through what appeared on the screen.

'Paper-free office, eh?' grinned Curtis.

'Thank God for computers, Sergeant,' said Mitch. 'Certificates for this, licences for that. Until only a few years ago we were drowning in paper. Here we are.'

Mitch turned the screen displaying the engineers' report towards Curtis.

'You know, Sergeant, the Otis Elevonic 411 is an especially safe and efficient model of elevator. In fact it's about the most modern system money can buy. If that wasn't enough, it's Abraham's job to monitor and check the health of the system as a whole. Abraham determines whether or not performance deviations have occurred and if maintenance action is required. Whenever Abraham decides that an engineer is needed it's programmed to request Otis's call out services direct.'

Curtis stared blankly at the screen and nodded.

'As you can see,' added Mitch, 'the engineers examined everything: the speed control unit, the logic control unit, the pulse width modulation unit, the motion control system, the gearless drive. They found everything to be in perfect working order.'

'It sure looks like they've been thorough,' he said. 'Can I get a hard copy of this? I'll need it for the coroner's office.'

'Why don't you just keep the disc?' said Mitch and ejected the small square of plastic from the side of the laptop and slid it towards the detective.

Thanks,' Curtis said uncertainly.

For a moment none of the three men spoke. Then Mitch said, 'I hear you released that Chinese student.'

'Did you now? Well, sir, to tell the truth, we had no option. The man was plainly innocent.'

'But the photograph?'

'Yeah, what about that photograph? The problem with it was that it just didn't tie up with the forensic. The bottom line was that Cheng Peng Fei is too short to have hit Sam Gleig on the head. Too short, and too weak.'

'I see.'

'Did you know that some of those kids who were outside are going to be deported?'

'Deported? That seems a little harsh, don't you think?'

'We had nothing to do with it,' said Curtis. 'No, it seems someone at City Hall pulled a few strings to get their asses kicked out of the country.'

'Is that so?'

'Since when the rest of the protesters outside this building have disappeared,' said Coleman. 'Like, maybe the rest of them got scared.'

'I'd wondered where they'd gone.' Mitch shrugged.

'Kind of a break for you, wouldn't you say?' said Coleman. 'I mean, they must have been a pain in the ass.'

'Well, I can't say I'm not pleased. And that guy broke my windshield. On the other hand, deportation seems a bit excessive. I wouldn't have wanted that.'

Coleman nodded.

'Your boss seems to carry quite a bit of influence in the mayor's office,' said Curtis.

'Look,' said Mitch, 'I know he wanted the demonstrators out. He had a word with the deputy mayor about it. That's all. I'm sure he wouldn't have wanted people actually thrown out of the country.' Mitch knew that he could be sure of no such thing where Ray Richardson was concerned; and thinking he had better change the subject he waved his hand at the engineers' report. 'So,' he said. 'Where does this report leave us?'

'I'm afraid it leaves me with an unsolved homicide,' admitted Curtis.

'That's not good for either of us.'

'There must be something in Sam Gleig's background that would help. He had a criminal record, for God's sake! I don't mean to be rude, but I can't see why you should want to concentrate your investigation here. I'd have thought the possibilities were rather limited.'