Web of Deceit Read Online Free Page A

happened, it’s over.’ She reached for the microphone. ‘Thirty-five’s on scene.’
    ‘Copy that, Thirty-five.’
    Her phone buzzed. I can wait. It buzzed again. I want you.
    A thrill ran through her. I want you too , she sent back, then got out to grab equipment. The air was cool on her overheated skin. She just had to get through this job. How long could it take, really? Two hours? She could wait. She seized the Oxy-Viva and drug box.
    ‘Kids’ll have to cook their own dinner.’ Alex hauled out the first-aid kit and monitor.
    She smiled. ‘Guess so.’
    A stocky middle-aged security guard came upto them. ‘This way.’
    They followed his wide safety-vested back through the press of people, down the stairs, along the station concourse, then deeper and deeper into the system of grimy fluorescent-lit platforms, escalators and stairways. Police were everywhere. Jane could hear the muted rumble of distant trains in the tunnels and, as they descended another flight of stairs, felt the pushof air in her face. The guard said something over his shoulder that she didn’t catch. She glanced at Alex but he shrugged.
    The next flight took them past more cops and onto a mostly empty platform. The air looked and smelled smoky, and firefighters in full gear and helmets crouched around something small by the far stairs. On the left side of the platform stood a train, doors closed, emptyas far as Jane could see. Police talked with three people who she guessed were witnesses; the man and two women were dressed as if heading home from work, and had the stunned look she’d seen on countless people’s faces before. Near them, a man sat on a bench with his head in his hands. The train’s driver, judging by his uniform.
    ‘This way.’ The guard turned past the end of the railing andled them alongside the train.
    Torch beams lit the darkness in front of the first carriage, and Jane heard their boss Ken Butterworth’s voice down on the tracks. She put the gear on the platform and crouched on the edge. ‘Partying again?’
    Ken smiled wryly up from where he lay between the rails. ‘Bloody back.’
    His partner, Mick Schultz, injected the contents of a syringe into theIV cannula taped into Ken’s wrist. ‘Ten milligrams in. Partying soon.’
    A cop standing near them held two torches on the scene. At the edge of the light Jane could see blood splattered on the train’s silver metal and a grey-trousered leg with no foot on the far side of the track.
    Behind her Alex said, ‘Stretcher, spine board, what else?’
    ‘Blanket to cover my face,’ Ken said.
    Alex went back up top to get the equipment. Jane lowered herself down onto the line then tried to brush the black dust from her hands.
    ‘Give up now,’ Ken said. His face relaxed, the morphine taking effect. ‘It’ll be all over you by the time we’re done.’
    ‘Great.’ She looked at the leg. The body it was attached to was a dark shape in the shadows under the train. ‘Suicide?’
    ‘Not sure,’ Mick said. ‘The driver said he just appeared. When we first got here the place was all smoky, and I heard people saying there’d been a fire and everyone’d freaked out and tried to run and that maybe he was accidentally pushed.’
    ‘Poor bastard.’
    The top of the sock was intact around the leg’s ankle, the exposed skin above it tanned with dark hairs. The wound was a clean linelike a surgical amputation and she could see the leg in cross-section: the tibia and fibula stark white against the dark red tissue and yellow fat. She couldn’t see the foot anywhere.
    She turned to Ken. ‘So what were you doing?’
    ‘Jumped down and stumbled and that was it.’ He blinked slowly and smiled.
    She smiled back. This wouldn’t take so long. They could have Ken in hospitalin twenty minutes and get back to station ten after that, if they went hard. And as it didn’t sound like a clear-cut suicide, the body would be someone else’s to deal with after the cops had crawled