Game Over

Game Over by Cynthia Harrod-Eagles

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Authors: Cynthia Harrod-Eagles
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to know what’s happening. When do you have to leave?’
    ‘About fifteen minutes. I was just making some coffee.’
    ‘Me for that,’ she said. ‘I’m a really quick dresser. I’ll be downstairs in five minutes. Don’t go without me.’
    Well, at least she didn’t seem either embarrassed or angry, he thought, going downstairs again. It seemed like an excellent start – unless she’d completely forgotten the events of the night before? Oh, there was a depressing thought!
    But when she appeared, really only five minutes later, she gave him a shy look as she took the mug of coffee from him and said, ‘About last night – I want you to know it wasn’t just, you know, Dad and everything. I hope you didn’t feel, well, forced into it.’
    ‘God, no!’ he said fervently, handing her a mug of coffee. ‘I was just hoping you didn’t feel I’d taken advantage of you.’
    ‘If I remember rightly, I was the one who made the advances. And it would have been hard for you to push me away, in the circumstances.’
    ‘Pushing you away was the last thing I wanted.’
    ‘I’m glad about that,’ she said. ‘Can we . . .? I don’t know how to put this . . .’
    ‘Carry on where we left off?’ he suggested.
    ‘Something like that.’ There was colour in her cheeks and she was looking down into the mug as if the coffee was a crystal ball.
    ‘I said you could stay here as long as you liked, and that still goes. Even more so.’
    ‘Thanks,’ she said. At that moment, fortunately, the kits came back, tiptoeing to the back door, boggling at her, and she put her mug down and hunkered, holding out her fingers to them. ‘Come on, you two, I’m not a monster. Isn’t it amazing how something as dainty as a cat can make so much noise? They sounded like a cattle stampede coming upstairs.’
    So it seemed that everything was all right.
    Slider woke feeling unrested, and guessed from the heaviness of Joanna’s movements that she felt the same. When she came back from the bathroom she put her arms round him and said, ‘I half wish I didn’t have these dates. I don’t want to be away from you. I hate that man.’
    ‘I feel the same way.’
    He cooked breakfast while she packed an overnight bag, which he took out to the car, looking carefully in all directions before each movement. But all seemed quiet and he did not feel the sensation of being watched. He supposed even crazed psychopaths had to sleep, and they were deliberately starting off early, before anything that would be normal time for either of them. Even so he watched the rear view all the time, and scrutinised every car that came in sight for unusual behaviour. In the station yard he transferred her things to her own car.
    ‘Be careful,’ he said, hugging her. ‘Change speeds and lanes every now and then and watch for anyone following you. I don’t think anyone will, but it’s best to keep an eye out. If you’re worried about anything, phone me.’
    She held him close for a moment, and he felt the baby kick him through both their sets of clothes. Then she pulled away, releasing him to the work he had to do. ‘Be brilliant, Inspector.’
    ‘I will. Be talented, beautiful and desirable.’
    ‘How can I help it?’
    There were two telephone messages for him on his desk and he sat down and returned the calls while it was quiet. The first was from Freddie Cameron.
    ‘No surprises, old bean,’ he said. ‘Death was caused by the blow to the head. Would have been virtually instantaneous. We’re talking about something rounded, possibly padded, very heavy, and wielded with great force. Cease looking for frail women, old-age pensioners or children.’
    ‘Isn’t it always the last person you suspect?’
    ‘Not in this life. One other thing – there were traces of oil on the pockets, where chummy went through them, and a large mark on the sleeve of the jacket, where I suppose it was pulled back to expose the watch. From first tests it looks like motor

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