Wild Jack Read Online Free Page A

Wild Jack
Book: Wild Jack Read Online Free
Author: John Christopher
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helpless. “They apparently want to see you at police headquarters. We haven’t been given a reason.”
    He looked at the man in uniform, and the man in uniform looked stolidly back. I tried to think of a possible reason myself. I had not been in any trouble I knew of, except for that fight at the airport. Even if the airport policeman had changed his mind anddecided to report me after all, it wasn’t enough to justify something like this. And what about Gary? The policeman couldn’t have reported me without reporting him.
    I shook my head. “It must be a mistake.”
    Williams looked baffled, too, but in his case angry. He said sharply to the officer, “You do know this boy is Councillor Anderson’s son? Surely they gave you some idea why he’s wanted?”
    The man shrugged. “I was only told to bring him.”
    Weatherby said, “You have the authority, so I suppose it’s all right.” He looked at me in a depressed way. “You’d better go with him, Anderson. I hope they don’t keep you long. I can’t think why these things can’t be seen to outside school hours.”
    â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢
    In the police car I tried to make conversation with my escort, in the hope of picking up a clue. Some of my friends were scared of the police, but they had never made me nervous. I had been used to seeing them around my father, of course, all my life. This one was civil, but uncommunicative. When we reached the police building, I knew as little of thereason for my being there as when we started.
    I was quite familiar with the ground layout of the building, but my escort called the lift and took me to uncharted territory on the seventh floor. He left me with the duty officer, who dialed a number on his control panel, listened to an instruction, and motioned me to follow him. He took me to an office, halfway along a corridor, which we reached through one of a dozen identical doors.
    There were two men in the office, which had windows overlooking St. James’s Park. They were not wearing uniforms, but casual clothes. Both were quite young, neither over thirty, one narrow-­shouldered and red-haired, the other dark and brawny.
    The brawny one said, “Clive Anderson—that right?”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    He leaned back in his chair and stared at me thoughtfully. “Like to tell us all about it?”
    â€œAbout what?”
    He tilted his chair farther and sank his chin on his chest. “Come on, now. You know all right.”
    â€œI don’t. I’ve no idea why I’m here.”
    Both watched me. Neither said anything.
    I said at last, “I really don’t understand, sir. But I think it might be a good idea if I could speak to Mr. Richie, my father’s secretary. My father is Councillor Anderson.”
    The brawny one made a clicking sound with his tongue but did not straighten up. He said, “Yes, we know your father is Councillor Anderson. At the moment cruising among the Greek islands, I believe. Very pleasant, though I’m sure well-earned. As to Mr. Richie, we know where to get hold of him if we want him. There’s no hurry about that. We’ll finish our little chat with you first.”
    I disliked him, but I was not alarmed. The job of the police was to serve the city, and particularly the council.
    I said, “I don’t see that I can be much help when I haven’t the faintest idea what the chat is supposed to be about.”
    â€œDon’t be pert, boy.” I stayed silent. “Do you know Brian Grantham?”
    â€œYes. He goes to my school.”
    I realized as I spoke that I had not seen him since the beginning of the new term. Not that that meant much, since he was not in my class or dormitory.
    The policeman said, “Did you visit his house on”—he leaned forward and glanced at a pad in front of him—“. . . on the evening of the sixteenth?”
    That
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