Read The History Suite (#9 - The Craig Modern Thriller Series) for Free Online Page A

and others fast, try interventions to improve things and write learned papers about the best. Meanwhile he would search for the one thing he really wanted, how to slow his own fifty-year-old body’s deterioration before he joined the grey, faceless ranks that he loathed so much.
    Taylor had just selected a book on skin ageing and walked back to his desk when his thoughts were interrupted by a loud buzz. He jabbed the button on his intercom and his young secretary’s voice echoed through.
    “A Superintendent Craig and Captain Smith are here to see you, Professor.”
    He tutted irritably. “Do they have an appointment?”
    The girl’s voice quivered anxiously. “No, sir. But they say it’s urgent.” She hesitated for a moment, wondering whether he’d understood the significance of Craig’s rank, and decided to add. “They’re the police.”
    Taylor barked back sarcastically. “The Superintendent part gave that away, Rachael.” He sighed. “Oh, very well. Send them in.”
    He folded his hands on his desk in what he thought was a suitably professorial pose, allowing his glasses to slide forward slightly on his nose. It made him look down his nose at people, literally, and experience said it had a satisfyingly intimidating effect. It may have done with students or elderly patients but he was dealing with something quite different in Craig.
    The two men entered and it only took Craig seconds to sum the professor up. Educated definitely, they didn’t bestow the title without that. Arrogant? Undoubtedly. They’d heard him bark at his secretary and his carefully arranged pose said so as well. Used to underestimating people’s intelligence? Probably. Teaching students who he could intimidate with long words would allow plenty of opportunity for that. In the kingdom of the blind, the one-eyed man is king.
    Craig hoped that Taylor’s choice of a secretary just out of school was based on the same desire to intimidate, rather than a more carnal one. And his choice of specialty? Taylor was definitely an expert in his field, but was he motivated by care for the elderly or scientific curiosity? Craig settled on the latter and flashed his badge, altering his previously unbiased manner to cool disdain.
    “Thank you for seeing us, Professor Taylor. I’m Superintendent Craig and this is Captain Ken Smith, seconded to us for a year from the army.”
    Taylor looked down his nose and he didn’t like what he saw. He wasn’t bothered by their professions or ranks or intimidated generally by the police, what he didn’t like was visible in both of the men standing in front of his desk. Where others might just have seen men in suits Timothy Taylor saw the things they had that he was beginning to lose. Craig and Smith were fit and muscular and Taylor pictured their muscles taut, unaffected yet by waning testosterone. Both had full heads of hair just as he’d bet their grandfathers’ had had; genetic balding wasn’t their lot and chronological balding was still decades away. Taylor hated them both on sight but he hated Craig most, for his smooth olive skin that barely wrinkled at all.
    While the academic broke the men down to the sum of their biological parts Craig could feel his hackles begin to rise. So he did something he rarely did; he took a seat without the offer of one and motioned Ken to do the same. Tim Taylor hadn’t uttered a word since they’d entered, so finally Craig did.
    “Do you know why we’re here, Professor Taylor?”
    Craig’s words broke the academic’s trance and he shook his head, reflecting the light from the window off his scalp. Between his balding and glasses he looked older than the fifty Davy had said he was. Taylor pushed his glasses up his nose, knowing that Craig wasn’t playing his game.
    “No. Why are you here?”
    Craig smiled. He’d given Taylor his title but he had conveniently omitted theirs. He didn’t give a damn about labels but it told him something about the man.
    “As you