AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’m afraid he’ll go all no comment in a formal under-caution interview,” Charlie said. “It’s not that I think he’s going to admit to anything informally, but he might let something slip if he thinks it’s a conversation with someone not very bright, ie, me. There has to be some advantage in being gay cop in murder scandal.” Eddy blushed, and Patsy clenched her fists.
“It isn’t fair,” she said. “You caught the murderer.”
Charlie shrugged. “I shagged him first.” He stood up, still damp, but a bit warmer. “Let’s go and catch some thieves.”
The rain hadn’t stopped, but it was no more than a fine mist when they stepped back outside. It was still enough to coat their hair, clothes and skin with droplets of water by the time they reached the main building. Eddy and Patsy asked for directions to the finance office and Charlie to Vitruvious’s office. The receptionist showed Charlie some sheets of paper stapled together. “Second year Life Drawing,” she said, “Dr V is supervising.” She looked at the time on a big clock on the wall behind the desk. “There’s forty-five minutes left, so go to the studio, not his office.”
Charlie followed instructions to climb the stairs to the next floor, turn left and it’s the second room on the right. Windows onto the courtyard lit the corridor despite the overcast day. The floor was dark wood planks, much stained though polished to a high gloss. The same dark wood panelled the walls to hip height. Above the panelling, the wall was painted white and hung with paintings, photographs, prints, and drawings. There were also several of what his college art teacher had called collages. All of it invited him to linger and look, but he had a job to do, and it wasn’t art critic. He smiled to himself. A philistine, yes, but a newly interested philistine. Then he heard his mother’s voice sneering at him for developing an interest in art when what he was really interested in was Tom. He silently told her to fuck off.
He opened the door marked Life Drawing to find himself facing a blank wall, with a heavy blue velvet curtain to his right, which made sense. Life drawing was drawing a naked model, so a little privacy was called for. It would be one thing to pose for artists, another to be peered at by every passer-by. Charlie pulled the curtain aside and everyone turned to look at him. Half the class turned away and back to their easels. He took a step forward. The model was a woman of about his age, obviously pregnant, standing with her arms folded against a classical pillar. She was resting her head on her arms, long hair obscuring her face. The pose was beautiful, and it was hard not to stare. There was no sign of Vitruvious.
“Who are you?” asked the student nearest to the door. “This is a private class.” Charlie’s eyes flicked to the student’s drawing and wow. He wanted to study it and ask questions, but those weren’t the questions he was being paid to ask.
“I need to talk to Dr Vitruvious,” he said.
“Try his office,” the student said, and turned away. There was nothing for Charlie to do but leave. Vitruvious’s office was a bit further along the same corridor. Unlike the Life Drawing studio, the office door had an inset window, though it was obscured by sheets of paper roughly sellotaped into place. A small, engraved plaque next to the door read “Inigo Vitruvious, Snr Painting Tutor”. Charlie knocked. There was no answer, and he had no sense that anyone was inside. He tried the door, but it was locked.
The office next to Vitruvious’s had its door propped open with a rubber wedge. Charlie knocked anyway, and then entered. A woman with short purple hair was sitting at a table looking through a pile of sketchbooks. She saw him and started in her seat.
“Sorry, I was expecting my next student,” she said.
“I was looking for Dr Vitruvious,” Charlie said.
“Isn’t everyone? I’ve already sorted his class out.” She looked at her watch and jumped up. “Shit. Sorry, I’ve got to go and let the poor bloody model sit down before she gives birth from stress.” Charlie moved out of her way and watched as she jogged down the corridor. He didn’t have Vitruvious’s phone number, or home address, but he knew a man who did. He set off for Tom’s office, but before he had reached the stairs, Tom rang him.
“Vitruvious is in my office, Charlie, and he’d love to talk to you.”
Charlie sincerely doubted it. But he was headed to Tom’s office anyway, so he didn’t hear the alarm that should have sounded in his mind.
Tom’s office door was closed, and there was no sign of Ann in the outer room. Charlie knocked, and Tom called for him to enter.
Tom shouting through the door, rather than opening it himself, was the second cue Charlie missed, but opening the door without telling Eddy and Patsy where ha was going was the biggest mistake of all.
The noise he heard as the door opened sounded like the heavy-duty stapler his mother used to re-upholster dining chairs.
It wasn’t.
It was Kaylan firing a pistol with a long barrel-shaped silencer in an enclosed space. Kaylan’s arms were extended at shoulder height, both hands on the gun, and he looked like he knew exactly what he was doing. The bullet dug a hole in the wall next to the door, about a foot from where Charlie stood. It took him far too long to parse what he was seeing: Kaylan with the gun, Tom and Vitruvious with cable ties around their wrists and ankles securing them to two of the elegant conference table chairs. Navy blue cable ties, Charlie’s brain noted, as if the colour mattered.
“Lock the door,” Kaylan ordered. “Leave the key in it.”
Charlie hadn’t seen that the door had a key, but it did. A large key in shiny brass, entirely suiting the polished dark wood door. The door opened into the room. Charlie would need to remove the key, close the door and lock it from the inside. Instead, he threw himself sideways, out of the doorway and into Ann’s office, expecting to feel a bullet tear into his flesh. Nothing happened. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and hit emergency.
“You can come in here and lock the door,” Kaylan said calmly, “or I can start hurting people.” There was the sound of something hard hitting something soft, and a cry of pain. “Like that,” Kaylan said.
“Charlie, go,” shouted Tom, which was when Ann and two other women appeared at the door to the outer office. He thought of Kaylan loose with a gun in a building full of civilians. There wasn’t a choice.
“Get out! Armed man holding hostages!!” Charlie yelled. Then he stood up, grabbed the key, and had the door closed and locked with himself in the office almost before he had finished shouting.. He heard their agitated voices behind the door, and then he concentrated on what was in front of him. Nothing had changed, except that Vitruvious had blood running down his face. He and Tom were still tied to chairs and Kaylan was still pointing the gun at Charlie.
“What’s going on, Kaylan?” he asked. “Let’s stop this now, before anyone gets hurt. Put the gun down.” Charlie knew from Kaylan’s expression that it wasn’t going to work. Then Vitruvious made it worse.
“I’ve been hurt. I’ve been stalked and threatened and robbed by this psychopath.” For a man who had defrauded his own students of hundreds of thousands of pounds, Charlie thought Vitruvious sounded remarkably self-righteous.
“What’s going on?” Charlie asked again.
“I’m going to kill that man, that liar and swindler,” Kalyan said. “That so-called social conscience of the arts. And when I’ve done it, I’m walking out of here and you’re going to let me. You’re going to get me out of the building. If you try to stop me, I’ll kill you and the principal as well, and anyone else who gets in my way. So, it’s up to you.”
The gun never wavered. Kaylan held it out in both hands as if he could keep holding it all day. His face showed no emotion, and for Charlie that was the most terrifying thing of all. Kaylan had a plan, and Charlie had no doubt that he would implement it unless he, Charlie, found a way to stop him.
