Read The Wormwood Code for Free Online
Authors: Douglas Lindsay
time to react to that outrageous suggestion. Barney didn't. 'Two, he was killed by his gay lover.'
'He had a gay lover?' said Barney, through a piece of bacon.
'Hell, he was a hairdresser, he's bound to have.'
Barney gave him the appropriate look.
'You're a barber, that's one thing. But these nancy boy hairdressers who poof about in leather trousers, there's something wrong with them, you know what I'm saying?'
'I believe you're saying that your thinking hasn't progressed since your grandfather was born,' said Barney.
'Come on, they're all called Ramone and Raphael and Julio and Juan for crying out loud. Juan...'
'Really? You ever actually met a gay hairdresser called Juan?' asked Barney.
'Commendably new man of you,' said Grogan, 'but in this case we checked. He had a boyfriend.'
'Doesn't mean you're not ignorant,' said Barney, 'and doesn't mean that the guy killed him just because they were both gay. What kind of TV have you been watching? So what was the third suggestion? He was an illegal immigrant? His parents weren't from England? He had a hunchback?'
'Number three, someone's trying to mess with the PM's re-election campaign, and this is a good way of buggering him up.'
Barney nodded.
'Can't really argue with that one,' he said, 'however I think you're being a bit limited in your evaluation of motive. There are a whole host of motives out there. Revenge, money, blackmail, bad haircut on a previous client, hundreds of things.'
'We have been doing some work,' said Grogan. 'We've narrowed it down.'
'Ah,' said Barney. 'Good job. Are you Starsky and Hutch or Batman and Robin?' he added, showing his age and cultural reference points.
'We want you to work for us,' said Grogan, ignoring the sarcasm.
Barney took another two quick bites of toast and bacon, finishing off the slice. Downed some tea.
'Our man on the inside,' said Eason, finally adding something to the conversation, as a squirt of ketchup dribbled down his chin.
'No,' said Barney.
'What?' said Grogan sharply.
'No,' said Barney. 'Did that in Scotland, I hated it, I'm not doing it.'
He dabbed his mouth with a napkin, pushed his chair back and stood up.
'Gentlemen,' he said, 'I'm late for the Prime Minister. Have a nice investigation.'
He smiled and nodded and walked quickly away from the table. Grogan and Eason watched him go, Eason taking a gigantic mouthful of sandwich, squirting mayonnaise up his face.
'Despite the fact that he's a sarcastic pain in the arse,' said Grogan, 'I quite like the guy.'
Eason nodded. 'What was all that Juan, Julio crap all about?' he asked, through the food. 'You don't give a shit about that stuff.'
Grogan took another sip of coffee, glanced at Eason over the top of the cup and tapped the side of his nose.
––––––––
0821hrs
B arney walked into the PM's office over an hour and a half late. He stopped, he looked at the PM, he was about to apologise for being a little behind the curve and then, before he could say anything, he noticed the Prime Minister's hair.
'D'oh!' said Barney.
––––––––
1301hrs
1 .01pm in London, 8.01am in Virginia. A grey morning on the other side of the Atlantic, and the killer of Ramone had not slept well. For years he'd been crossing the Atlantic for various reasons, and he still couldn't get used to the jet lag. It was stupid, it was only five hours, and yet his sleeping patterns were always completely knocked to hell by it. He had spent the night watching reality TV, slowly going demented, as he'd learned about Cops Who Steal , Thieves Who Arrest , Bored Housewives Who Can't Cook , Judges Who Can't Judge , Undercover Agents Who Can't Act , Actors Who Can't Go Undercover , and Government Officials Who Can't Govern . That last show had lasted seven or eight hours and was part three of four hundred and fifty.
Hadn't even tried going to bed, had eaten breakfast at just after six, and now walked quickly in through the gates of CIA HQ in Langley. Showed his
'He had a gay lover?' said Barney, through a piece of bacon.
'Hell, he was a hairdresser, he's bound to have.'
Barney gave him the appropriate look.
'You're a barber, that's one thing. But these nancy boy hairdressers who poof about in leather trousers, there's something wrong with them, you know what I'm saying?'
'I believe you're saying that your thinking hasn't progressed since your grandfather was born,' said Barney.
'Come on, they're all called Ramone and Raphael and Julio and Juan for crying out loud. Juan...'
'Really? You ever actually met a gay hairdresser called Juan?' asked Barney.
'Commendably new man of you,' said Grogan, 'but in this case we checked. He had a boyfriend.'
'Doesn't mean you're not ignorant,' said Barney, 'and doesn't mean that the guy killed him just because they were both gay. What kind of TV have you been watching? So what was the third suggestion? He was an illegal immigrant? His parents weren't from England? He had a hunchback?'
'Number three, someone's trying to mess with the PM's re-election campaign, and this is a good way of buggering him up.'
Barney nodded.
'Can't really argue with that one,' he said, 'however I think you're being a bit limited in your evaluation of motive. There are a whole host of motives out there. Revenge, money, blackmail, bad haircut on a previous client, hundreds of things.'
'We have been doing some work,' said Grogan. 'We've narrowed it down.'
'Ah,' said Barney. 'Good job. Are you Starsky and Hutch or Batman and Robin?' he added, showing his age and cultural reference points.
'We want you to work for us,' said Grogan, ignoring the sarcasm.
Barney took another two quick bites of toast and bacon, finishing off the slice. Downed some tea.
'Our man on the inside,' said Eason, finally adding something to the conversation, as a squirt of ketchup dribbled down his chin.
'No,' said Barney.
'What?' said Grogan sharply.
'No,' said Barney. 'Did that in Scotland, I hated it, I'm not doing it.'
He dabbed his mouth with a napkin, pushed his chair back and stood up.
'Gentlemen,' he said, 'I'm late for the Prime Minister. Have a nice investigation.'
He smiled and nodded and walked quickly away from the table. Grogan and Eason watched him go, Eason taking a gigantic mouthful of sandwich, squirting mayonnaise up his face.
'Despite the fact that he's a sarcastic pain in the arse,' said Grogan, 'I quite like the guy.'
Eason nodded. 'What was all that Juan, Julio crap all about?' he asked, through the food. 'You don't give a shit about that stuff.'
Grogan took another sip of coffee, glanced at Eason over the top of the cup and tapped the side of his nose.
––––––––
0821hrs
B arney walked into the PM's office over an hour and a half late. He stopped, he looked at the PM, he was about to apologise for being a little behind the curve and then, before he could say anything, he noticed the Prime Minister's hair.
'D'oh!' said Barney.
––––––––
1301hrs
1 .01pm in London, 8.01am in Virginia. A grey morning on the other side of the Atlantic, and the killer of Ramone had not slept well. For years he'd been crossing the Atlantic for various reasons, and he still couldn't get used to the jet lag. It was stupid, it was only five hours, and yet his sleeping patterns were always completely knocked to hell by it. He had spent the night watching reality TV, slowly going demented, as he'd learned about Cops Who Steal , Thieves Who Arrest , Bored Housewives Who Can't Cook , Judges Who Can't Judge , Undercover Agents Who Can't Act , Actors Who Can't Go Undercover , and Government Officials Who Can't Govern . That last show had lasted seven or eight hours and was part three of four hundred and fifty.
Hadn't even tried going to bed, had eaten breakfast at just after six, and now walked quickly in through the gates of CIA HQ in Langley. Showed his
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