The Codex File (2012) Read Online Free
subdued by the twilight.
Closing the gate behind them, and propping a nearby shovel against it to hide evidence of their entrance, the two men stole up to the back door of the house. Kennedy still gripped the crowbar tightly in his right hand. Raising the tool to the glass Trevellion nodded as it punched a jagged hole through the glass above the door handle.
Dropping the crowbar back into the holdall Kennedy slid his hand through the hole in the glass, turning the key lodged in the lock.
A thin smile crossed Trevellion’s normally sombre expression as they entered the empty house. They both knew the owner would be back soon.
Trevellion looked around the large galley-style kitchen until an item on the tiled wall opposite caught his eye.
“ This should be very persuasive,” he said menacingly, lifting the meat cleaver from its hook on the wall and passing it to Kennedy.
The meat cleaver glinted from its newness and Trevellion doubted it had ever been used. He smiled as he studied its reassuringly sharp edge as his able assistant grasped it tightly in his right hand. Eight inches of metal so sharp it could slice a wrist off in one vicious strike.
Everything seemed to sparkle in the kitchen. Pristine clean work surfaces. A well stacked wine rack with its excellent vintages. And shards of glass, decorating the polished wooden floor from where they’d forced entry.
Armed with the meat cleaver the two men passed silently from the kitchen into the study. The meticulously tidy room contained what they were expecting - a touch-screen computer, securely mounted at 45 degrees, and shelf upon shelf of paper files, computer disks, DVD-ROMs and flash drives. Almost a lifetime’s work of a man dedicated to developing computer technology.
The bookcase along the adjacent wall was carefully stacked with manuals on advanced programming techniques and the online world into the 21 st century. A filing cabinet sat beside the bookcase. This surely held more technology secrets Trevellion thought as his gloved hand delicately stroked the top of the storage unit. The contents of the room were what they were looking for.
The sound of the 7 Series BMW pulling into the luxurious gravel drive filtered through to the two men and Trevellion cast a glance at his watch. On time as usual he thought knowingly as the second hand moved on to 7.10pm.
Kennedy placed the meat cleaver down on top of the bookcase before slipping his hand into the pocket of his combat trousers. Silently, he pulled out a length of thin rope, about a metre long. As the key in the front door turned Kennedy wound the thin rope tightly around his fingers. Moving just inside the doorway to the study they both waited and listened.
As the front door opened the sound of creaking hinges filled the quiet house. David Langley trudged into his darkening hallway, dropping his heavy briefcase onto the thick pile carpet with a dull thud.
A sickly odour of stale aftershave and a day’s sweat permeated the hallway. Closing the front door he tossed his keys onto the wooden table inside the door. A hoarse asthmatic cough echoed in the hallway. Pausing for a second to catch his breath he reached into his pocket for his ventolin inhaler. Carrying the heavy briefcase from the car had stirred up his asthma yet again.
Pumping the inhaler twice between his lips he looked down at his stomach. A mountain of flesh hung flabbily over his waistband. A puddle of sweat stained his Yves Saint Laurent shirt where it clung to his skin. He really ought to lose weight he thought, replacing his inhaler back in his jacket pocket.
Wiping the perspiration from his face he exhaled loudly. Bending over to reach for the post congregated on his doormat he began to gasp for breath yet again. The thin rope bit into his flesh and tightened around his windpipe. Duct tape was quickly wound round his head and over wide, fearful eyes as struggled from where Kennedy was restraining him.
“Oh my God, if it’s money
Closing the gate behind them, and propping a nearby shovel against it to hide evidence of their entrance, the two men stole up to the back door of the house. Kennedy still gripped the crowbar tightly in his right hand. Raising the tool to the glass Trevellion nodded as it punched a jagged hole through the glass above the door handle.
Dropping the crowbar back into the holdall Kennedy slid his hand through the hole in the glass, turning the key lodged in the lock.
A thin smile crossed Trevellion’s normally sombre expression as they entered the empty house. They both knew the owner would be back soon.
Trevellion looked around the large galley-style kitchen until an item on the tiled wall opposite caught his eye.
“ This should be very persuasive,” he said menacingly, lifting the meat cleaver from its hook on the wall and passing it to Kennedy.
The meat cleaver glinted from its newness and Trevellion doubted it had ever been used. He smiled as he studied its reassuringly sharp edge as his able assistant grasped it tightly in his right hand. Eight inches of metal so sharp it could slice a wrist off in one vicious strike.
Everything seemed to sparkle in the kitchen. Pristine clean work surfaces. A well stacked wine rack with its excellent vintages. And shards of glass, decorating the polished wooden floor from where they’d forced entry.
Armed with the meat cleaver the two men passed silently from the kitchen into the study. The meticulously tidy room contained what they were expecting - a touch-screen computer, securely mounted at 45 degrees, and shelf upon shelf of paper files, computer disks, DVD-ROMs and flash drives. Almost a lifetime’s work of a man dedicated to developing computer technology.
The bookcase along the adjacent wall was carefully stacked with manuals on advanced programming techniques and the online world into the 21 st century. A filing cabinet sat beside the bookcase. This surely held more technology secrets Trevellion thought as his gloved hand delicately stroked the top of the storage unit. The contents of the room were what they were looking for.
The sound of the 7 Series BMW pulling into the luxurious gravel drive filtered through to the two men and Trevellion cast a glance at his watch. On time as usual he thought knowingly as the second hand moved on to 7.10pm.
Kennedy placed the meat cleaver down on top of the bookcase before slipping his hand into the pocket of his combat trousers. Silently, he pulled out a length of thin rope, about a metre long. As the key in the front door turned Kennedy wound the thin rope tightly around his fingers. Moving just inside the doorway to the study they both waited and listened.
As the front door opened the sound of creaking hinges filled the quiet house. David Langley trudged into his darkening hallway, dropping his heavy briefcase onto the thick pile carpet with a dull thud.
A sickly odour of stale aftershave and a day’s sweat permeated the hallway. Closing the front door he tossed his keys onto the wooden table inside the door. A hoarse asthmatic cough echoed in the hallway. Pausing for a second to catch his breath he reached into his pocket for his ventolin inhaler. Carrying the heavy briefcase from the car had stirred up his asthma yet again.
Pumping the inhaler twice between his lips he looked down at his stomach. A mountain of flesh hung flabbily over his waistband. A puddle of sweat stained his Yves Saint Laurent shirt where it clung to his skin. He really ought to lose weight he thought, replacing his inhaler back in his jacket pocket.
Wiping the perspiration from his face he exhaled loudly. Bending over to reach for the post congregated on his doormat he began to gasp for breath yet again. The thin rope bit into his flesh and tightened around his windpipe. Duct tape was quickly wound round his head and over wide, fearful eyes as struggled from where Kennedy was restraining him.
“Oh my God, if it’s money
Readers choose
W. Michael Gear, Kathleen O'Neal Gear
Colin Falconer
Brian O'Grady
Peter Handke
Jill Ciment
James Herbert
Khaled Khalifa
Poul Anderson
Elizabeth Lennox