Unearthed

Nightingale spoke in a soft voice. “Easy, Aleister. Let me handle this. Please.”

With an oath, Crowe turned away.

“I was here today as a favor to Aleister, Inspector Paddington.” Nightingale reached into his inside jacket pocket and took out an engraved cardholder. He flipped the holder open with a practiced flourish and produced an expensive embossed card. “I’m a solicitor.”

Paddington took the card and examined it. “Do you feel you need a solicitor, Mr. Crowe?”

Crowe started to make a scathing reply, judging from the apoplectic expression he wore, then subsided when Nightingale raised a hand.

“I advised Mr. Crowe that he might want to seek counsel regarding the shooting incident in his home.” Nightingale put the cardholder away.

“No charges have been brought against Mr. Crowe.”

Nightingale smiled unctuously. “We have two matters before us, Inspector. I believe the criminal matter has been put to rest, and that Mr. Crowe acted in the best interests of his family when he shot a trespasser in his home.”

Michael started to object, but Paddington raised an admonishing hand without looking in his direction. Bitterly, Michael swallowed his comments.

“But I also advised Mr. Crowe that Rohan Wallace’s family might seek to place fiduciary responsibility on him in civil court. We met here today so that I could deliver a court order to have copies of the injured man’s hospital reports released to me. In case we end up in court over the matter. A little prejudicial caution, I admit.”

“Rohan hasn’t had any family to speak up for him,” Michael said before Paddington could wave him to silence.

“But that isn’t the case anymore, is it? Mr. Wallace’s grandmother has arrived in Blackpool.”

Paddington raised an eyebrow. “How do you know that, Mr. Nightingale?”

The solicitor shrugged. “I witnessed her arrival only a few moments ago. I heard your sergeant acknowledge her.” He pointed toward the limousine.

Irwin stood at the front of the vehicle like a soldier at his post. Michael almost smiled at that; the man’s dedication to his vocation was reassuring.

“Therefore, Inspector, lines on this battlefront are changing.”

Michael gazed down at the dead man and couldn’t agree more.

Paddington’s mobile rang and he pulled it from his hip holster. He said his name and listened briefly, then closed the mobile and put it away. He glanced at Michael. “It appears they found the spot where the shots came from. Would you like to come along?”

“You’re asking me?”

“You needn’t if you don’t wish to.”

“No. I’d be happy to come. This just isn’t the kind of thing you’d normally invite me to.”

“This, Mr. Graham, doesn’t appear to be a normal day.”

CHAPTER FIVE

“THE SHOOTER STOOD HERE, Inspector, and he had a clear view of the hospital.”

Michael didn’t recognize the serious middle-aged man in the Blackpool Police uniform. He assumed he was one of the temporary officers that were helping out during the remodel of the marina. With all the new people in town, as well as the supplies and equipment, extra security had been necessary.

The officer looked earnest and neat as a pin. His short-cropped hair was barely longer than the stubble Michael wore. Creases showed in the corners of his eyes and lightly on his forehead. His tan was deep, burned into his flesh by years of working in the sun.

“Tell me your name.”

“Watts, Inspector. Trevor Watts.”

“Ah, yes.” Paddington nodded in satisfaction. “You’re the lad with exotic military training.”

“Yes, sir. I did a bit with the Special Air Service. Mustered out honorably with injuries a few years back.”

Michael was impressed. The SAS was England’s foremost special-forces unit. The team had seen action around the globe and were noted for their thoroughness and precision.

“SAS, eh?” Paddington gazed out the bedroom window of the second-floor flat they were in across from the hospital. Other than a few trees, the view was clear. “Then I’d assume you know something of shooting like this.”

“Yes, sir. I was extremely proficient.”

Paddington pointed his pipe at the spot where the dead man had gone down. “How far away would you say the target was?”

“Seven hundred seventy-eight yards, sir.”

“That’s awfully exact, Officer.”

Watts reached into a small bag on his belt and took out micro-size binoculars. “Opti-Logic Sabre II laser rangefinder. Good out to a thousand yards. After I saw that shot, I thought I might need this, so I got it out of my car.”

Michael’s curiosity was piqued. “What about the shot told you that you might need that device?”

“The round hit the man, correct, Mr. Graham?”

Michael nodded.

“Seven hundred and seventy-eight yards, though I didn’t know the exact measurement at the time, plus the fact that the bullet ripped through the victim’s apricot tipped me to the fact that we were probably dealing with an experienced sniper. That’s why I started scouting the buildings that fit the trajectory and the field of fire.”

“‘Apricot’?”

“Yes, sir. The medulla oblongata. Located at the base of the skull. Controls involuntary movement. Ensures an instant kill. You put a bullet through that, or the second cervical vertebra, and whomever you shoot is checked out of the festivities.”

“You make the shooter sound like he was really good.”

“He was, sir. No doubt about it. To pop a man like that, while he’s on the run? Bloody good, sir, and that’s the bottom line.”

Michael watched the man and wondered what he did when he wasn’t hanging about Blackpool, helping with security. He suspected it was generally something a lot more demanding, and they were lucky to have him.

Only then did Michael realize that Paddington had been carefully watching him throughout the exchange. Michael let out a breath and shook his head. “You knew the shooter could have killed me, too.”

“The thought crossed my mind simply because the shot that killed that poor devil was so accurately placed and you emerged without a scratch.” Paddington glanced around the bedroom. “I felt you should know what you were truly facing today.”

Michael’s knees were suddenly weak. “Do you mind if I take a seat?”

Watts pointed to a chair at a small computer desk. “There. Please stay out of the way. And if you’re going to be sick, please do so in the bin there.” He pointed to the small metal rectangle under the desk.