Read Inspector Green Mysteries 9-Book Bundle Online
Authors: Barbara Fradkin
For the next fifteen minutes Green paced his office and jotted notes on a pad of paper. He was so busy figuring out exactly how much he was going to tell Devine that he had no chance to consider the significance of Blakeley’s announcement. He needed Devine’s cooperation to keep the investigation of Weiss under wraps, but when she finally summoned him upstairs, he discovered she had an entirely different concern.
When he walked in, she was on the phone talking to the Chief himself. “Absolutely not, sir,” she was saying. “Inspector Green has just arrived, and I will keep you well apprised of any actions we plan to take... Of course, sir.”
When she hung up, she pivoted on her stiletto heel and walked to the door to close it firmly behind him. Despite her haste, she’d managed to arrive at the office impeccably packaged in the latest spring colours. Her green linen suit hadn’t a single wrinkle in it, and every black hair on her head was lacquered into submission. She waved peach-tipped fingers at the group of chairs in front of her desk.
“John Blakeley,” she announced without preamble. “I’ve just been on the phone with the Chief. You’re not to go near him again without our approval.”
In his astonishment, he froze midway into his chair. “Barbara, that’s ridiculous. He’s a prime suspect—”
“Do you have concrete evidence?”
“Not yet, but—”
“Then you won’t touch him. The media will be all over this. They’ll have a field day with his connections to the Liberal Party brass, and the opposition parties will grab any chance to smear the Liberal leadership. They’ll say it’s another example of their poor judgement, if not their outright criminal connections.”
He thought about the call he’d overhead between her and the Chief. Who in the Liberal Party had the power to call in favours from the police? And why?
“Is there something I don’t know?” he asked. “Some other player who has the ear of the Chief? Because I don’t want to be blindsided by someone’s secret agenda—”
“Of course not, Mike. It’s just a media jackpot. Blakeley’s wife is the daughter of Jack Neuss, who’s been a senior policy advisor for the Liberals since the days of Trudeau. You know how it works, Mike. It’s two weeks to the election, and the public has never been more fickle.”
He paced in outrage. “So you’re saying if I’m planning to arrest Blakeley, I should wait two weeks?”
“Are you planning to arrest him?”
He forced himself to slow down and think of how he might persuade her. “Not yet. But I will need to talk to him again, and you can’t seriously suggest we go easy on the guy when one of our officers is lying in the