Read Dead Lucky for Free Online Page A

her. He was sure Mia knew exactly what Eustace was up to, and the truth of any rumours. ‘Please let me know if you remember anything else.’
    The editor nodded, dropping the card onto her desk. ‘Perhaps we can work together on this,’ she said. ‘I can send someone around to meet you.’
    ‘Once you’re ready to be more forthcoming, let me know,’ said Lambert. ‘Until then, I suggest you speak to our press office.’
    He called Kennedy outside the newspaper offices. Her meeting with Prue McKenzie had been more of a success. She’d already arranged a meeting with Charles Robinson, a criminal barrister, at his chambers in Holborn.
    Lambert caught the tube and arrived in Holborn before Kennedy. He waited for her in a coffee shop chain close to Holborn station.
    He was halfway through his drink when she arrived. She nodded over and gestured with her hand, enquiring if he wanted another drink.
    ‘You looked pleased with yourself,’ he said, noting the spring in her walk as she approached.
    ‘It happens occasionally. How was your meeting with the editor?’
    ‘Unproductive. I think we can safely say the case is newsworthy now.’
    Kennedy swept a loose strand of hair from her face. ‘That’ll please Tillman,’ she said.
    ‘Can’t be helped.’ The idea that they withhold details of the case from the press was ludicrous, considering the profession of Moira’s husband. ‘What do we know about this Charles Robinson?’
    ‘I’ve done a bit of research. Criminal defence work mainly, started his career working for the CPS.’
    ‘What do we know of his extracurricular appetites, other than those described by Mrs McKenzie?
    ‘Nothing yet. Devlin’s working on it, but I thought it best we go to the horse’s mouth first.’ Kennedy took a sip of her cappuccino. Lambert realised he didn’t know much about his colleague other than what he’d been told second-hand. She was clearly highly intelligent, and he’d already noticed a dry sense of humour. She was attractive in an unconventional way. Tall and wiry, she had pointed prominent features with deep-set hazel eyes. It was the hair which distinguished her. It was tied back now – lines of fiery red pulled tight, making her pale forehead more prominent.
    ‘Sip up,’ said Lambert, getting to his feet.
    It was a short walk to Robinson’s chambers. Lunchtime was ending, reluctant workers returning to their offices bereft at having to leave the blazing sunshine. Kennedy followed a pace behind as they made the short walk. An immaculately attired man, mid-forties with short brown hair, greeted them as they entered the chambers. The man stood, and assessed them in one curious glance. ‘How may I help?’ he asked, his voice a resonant baritone.
    ‘DCI Lambert, DS Kennedy. We have an appointment with Charles Robinson.’
    ‘James Latchford, head clerk,’ said the man, surprising Lambert who had mistaken him for one of the barristers. Latchford glanced down at the folio on his desk and beamed a smile at them. ‘Yes, please take a seat and Mr Robinson will be with you shortly.’
    Lambert paced the small reception area, admiring the bookcases lined with ancient legal texts, common law and statute books. He doubted the leather-backed tomes ever left their shelves, given that the printed words had all been codified and were available online. Still, they provided a decorative air of authority.
    His concentration was diverted by a booming Welsh voice. ‘DCI Lambert?’
    Lambert turned to face Charles Robinson. Dressed in a three piece suit, a silk tie pressed so tight into his neck it almost choked him, the man looked little over fifty. He had a mane of silver hair, and the type of smile you would expect to see in a glossy magazine.
    ‘And you must be DS Kennedy,’ said Robinson, turning his attention to Matilda.
    ‘Mr Robinson.’
    ‘Please, call me Charles. Shall we?’ He ushered them through a set of oak panelled doors towards his office. ‘Please sit, may I