The Eighth Court (The Courts of the Feyr - By Mike Shevdon Page 0,105

crump from his shoulder. “Aaagh!” he shouted.

Amber stood on his wrist and placed the tip of her blade on his neck, pulling out a wallet, a mobile phone, a card wallet and an automatic pistol from his coat and jacket pockets. I caught them one by one, tossing the pistol over the parapet into the Thames.

“Sam,” I said. “I do believe your intentions were less than honourable.”

“Fuck off!” he said, trying to pull his wrist out from under Amber’s boots.

“Be polite,” I advised him. “You don’t want to upset her.”

“Go and f–” He got as far as that when Amber hauled him up by the front of his coat and swung him round, and tossed him straight over the parapet. He screamed as he went over, flailing his arms in desperation. I waited a moment, and then leaned over the parapet. Sam was dangling by one ankle from Amber’s grip. His free leg and arms were flailing around wildly.

“I warned you,” I told him. “I tried to tell you. You’re just not very good at accepting advice.”

“You bastard,” he shouted. “For fuck’s sake!”

“If I were you,” I said. “I’d stop struggling. You might loosen her grip and that would leave you with two choices. You’d hit the water hard, and you might go unconscious if you were lucky.” I stared down at the brown water heading towards the sea. “You might just drown.”

Sam started shouting. “Help! Heeeeelp!”

“On the other hand, I’m not sure how good a swimmer you are. If you hit the water right, you could make it to the surface. Of course, at this time of year in these conditions you have about a minute. Hypothermia will be nicer than drowning. It’ll be like going to sleep. Do they teach you survival in your line of work?”

“Heeeeeelp!” he shouted. Amber raised one eyebrow, as if she were considering letting go.

“No one can hear you,” I told him. “You have just one chance, though Amber thinks that’s one chance too many. I’m going to have to convince her not to let go.”

“I hate you, Petersen!”

“Who gave you the bullets?” I asked him.

“Fuck off!”

Amber’s grip slipped an inch up his ankle. He screamed like a girl.

“Who?” I asked.

“I can’t tell you,” he said. “I don’t know anything.”

“OK,” I said. “You’re probably right. Even as a policeman trained in undercover work, your powers of observation were probably off that day. I understand. I’m just sorry we couldn’t make this last longer. Amber, drop him.”

“Nooooooooo! Wait! Wait!” He swung from her grip, his fingers scrabbling upside down against the base of the parapet searching for some grip, some handhold.

“What for?” I asked. “I already told you that I didn’t kill Claire. You don’t believe me. I think I know who did, but your chances of catching him are approaching zero about as rapidly as you’ll be approaching that river in a moment. I don’t kill people who don’t try and kill me, whereas my colleague Amber here has no such scruples. To her you’re just a dead weight, shortly to have the emphasis on dead.”

Sam started kicking again, “For God’s sake. It’ll be cold-blooded murder.”

“I don’t kill people who don’t try to kill me, but you’re not on that list, are you Sam? You’re the sort of guy who shoots someone through a coat. You leave them to bleed to death. We have nothing left to say. Amber’s right, the only thing left between us is a loose end. One that can easily be severed.”

“Wait! Wait! I can tell you something. I can.”

“What?”

“Not from down here. Haul me up. I’ll tell you if you get me up.”

“Naah,” I said. “You’re bluffing.” Amber’s grip slipped another inch. He screamed. She had hold of his foot now. I noticed the way the hairs on his legs were caught in her grip. That must be quite painful.

“No! They were spooks. They knew who you were. They told me about you. They said you’d killed her.”

“Who did, Sam? Who did?”

“They didn’t give names. Their type never do. For Christ’s sake, I’ll tell you everything, just get me up!”

“What do you think?” I asked Amber.

“I think he’d say anything right now,” she said. “He doesn’t yet realise that if he’s lying I’m going to toss him over again, and this time I’m not catching him.”

“I swear,” he said. “I’ll tell you it all. For God’s sake.”

“God won’t help you now,” I said. “Not in this world.” I could hear that he was telling the truth, though. He