Constantine Legacy (Jake Dillon Adventure Series) by Andrew Towning

out who had killed
Charlie McIntyre. The word from above was simple; one
of our own had been killed. The objective was to pull in
all our sources of information and see what came out at
the other end.
    I joined LJ and Tats in the conference room.
The image that filled the end wall on the screen made
my stomach turn and the colour shot of what remained
of the Range Rover made the hairs on the back of my
neck stand on end. The doors were completely gone and
everything inside had been erased by the blast and the
ensuing fire. Only the rims remained of the wheels in each
corner, all of the rubber was burnt away.
    The roof had been spilt through the middle and the
bonnet lay twisted twenty feet away.
“Charlie knew that something wasn’t right, but he
couldn’t put his finger on it, you know?” I said to no one
in particular while staring at the large screen.
“I’ve been thinking about recent events. We should
take a closer look at dear old loveable Harry Caplin.
Something about him is definitely odd.” I sat at the end
of the large maple table staring at nothing in particular.
“What makes you think that he is anything other
than what he says he is?” LJ asked, pompously.
“Call it a hunch,” I said, ignoring his intonation.
“Um, your hunches have been my embarrassment
before, Jake. Give me one good reason why I should
concentrate the firm’s resources in this area of investigation.
When there is no evidence whatsoever to substantiate my
doing so.”
“For the simple reason that Charlie is laid out in
pieces at the local morgue,” I retorted flatly.
“Don’t be smart. I’m as saddened as you, or anyone
else who had the privilege to know him, could possibly
be. What makes you so sure that this Harry Caplin had
anything to do with the explosion? It was my car that
was bombed, so whoever carried out this despicable act
was obviously after me and not Charlie. Wouldn’t you
agree?” LJ’s face had reddened and sweat trickled off his
forehead.
I got up and moved to the end wall, standing with
the projected image behind me.
“There is evidence,” I said, pausing for effect.
“Harry Caplin, George Ferdinand and Robert Flackyard,
there is some sort of link between them.”
“Caplin has been seen entering Flackyard’s house at
all hours and frequents a number of his, how shall we say,
less reputable establishments. As for George Ferdinand,
well he really is rather odd, and he’s exceptionally good
at lying. Flackyard; he is a very serious individual, and
capable of just about anything. But that is merely my
own opinion, of course. As for Flackyard, what do we
really know about him? Well, he is extremely wealthy;
influential beyond belief, almost certainly has a Cabinet
Minister in his pocket. Has been able to elude the boys in
blue for many years with his own private army of lawyers,
and is an international playboy. That last bit by the way, I
firmly believe is nothing more than a charade, a sleight of
hand, like a magician creating an illusion. Do you know
what the most fascinating thing to date is?”
“Well, let me tell you. Flackyard is the only one
asking for the opium to be given back, but he’s not the
one who owns it. It will be the drugs though that will
flush the real owner out, and Charlie’s murderer. Because
the two are almost certainly linked, and if we’re looking
for reasons why he may want you dead, need I say more?”
I sat down; Tats poured me some more coffee.
“Oh, I see the pattern as far is it goes, Jake. But
let’s not jump to conclusions. I still feel that Flackyard
would not jeopardise his position.”
“Especially as he is fully aware of the Partners’
power and far-reaching influence that they can wield
if they need to. No, if anyone wants me dead it will be
someone whom I’ve really upset in the past. Of that, I’ve
got no doubt.”
“But no matter, we will attend to that in due
course and before I forget, I’ve