IMPOSTURE: Hunters become the hunted in this gripping murder mystery, Ray Clark [classic books for 10 year olds .txt] 📗

all these questions, isn’t it? That man in Leeds yesterday was Michael Foreman, and he’s dead. And you think it was me?”

Chapter Thirty-seven

They found Fitz in his office. The smell of fresh coffee hit them as they walked in. His desk, as usual, was clean and tidy and the only thing out of place was a small lunchbox to the left of his PC, containing a couple of sandwiches, two tomatoes, a chocolate bar, an apple and an orange. Gardener noticed the steam rising from the coffee cup. A classical music piece that he did not recognise filtered around the room.

Fitz glanced up at them. “Freshly brewed, help yourselves.” He then glanced at Reilly. “Biscuits in the top drawer of the filing cabinet.”

“It’s not like you to give up the location so easily.”

“That’s because I want my office in one piece when you leave.”

Reilly glanced at Gardener. “I don’t know who he thinks I am.”

“He has a pretty good idea.”

Gardener chose a seat opposite Fitz, as did Reilly once he had the coffees and the biscuits.

“I take it you have something for us.”

“I certainly do.” Fitz finished up the sandwich he was eating, took a sip of coffee and wiped his hands on a napkin. He retrieved a folder from a desk drawer, placing it on the desk in front of him, pulling out a sheet of paper.

“I have Michael Foreman’s dental records here so we know for a fact that it’s him, although I don’t suppose there was any doubt when we had two passports. What was the other one all about?”

Gardener took him briefly through what they knew about Michael Foreman, the night of the hit and run and the connection they had so far found to the others. He finished off with what they had come across earlier in the day – another body.

“In the same place?”

“As good as,” replied Gardener.

“Someone’s ahead of you.”

“Be nice to know who,” replied Reilly.

Gardener mentioned the quote they had found beside James Henshaw’s body.

Fitz reached into his folder again. “That’s interesting, because I found this stapled to Michael Foreman’s back.”

He passed over the A4 sheet of scrolled paper. It was identical to the one found beside James Henshaw, but the quote was different. Gardener read it before passing it over to his partner.

Then I saw when the Lamb broke one of the seven seals, and I heard one of the four living creatures saying as with a voice of thunder, “Come.” I looked, and behold, a white horse, and the one who sat on it had a bow; and a crown was given to him, and he went out conquering and to conquer. Revelation 6:1-2

Reilly sighed and placed it back on the desk in front of him.

“I recognised it,” said Fitz, “it’s from The Book of Revelation. One of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, namely Pestilence.”

“The quote we found on James Henshaw this morning was also from The Book of Revelation,” said Reilly. “That quote referred to Famine.”

“Which is almost certainly what our killer did to him,” said Gardener. “He starved him.”

“Somebody obviously knows what’s going on here,” said Fitz. “I take it this James Henshaw isn’t dead yet?”

“Not that we’ve heard,” said Gardener, “but from what we saw of him I doubt he’ll survive much longer, even with the best medical care.”

“The important question for you two is where he was being kept,” said Fitz. “He’s obviously been holed up somewhere for quite some time, to be able to do that.”

“We know that,” said Gardener. “Whoever had James Henshaw very likely had Michael Foreman.”

“When do you think he took them?”

“No idea,” said Gardener. “But we’re still left with the question of who.”

“The other two are still at large,” said Reilly, “so one of those two could be responsible.”

“Unless it’s someone who knows what happened and is taking their revenge on all of them,” offered Fitz.

“It’s a good bet,” said Gardener, “but that only leaves us with one suspect, and she doesn’t really fit the bill.”

Fitz nodded but didn’t answer.

“James Henshaw’s wife, Rosie,” said Reilly, “but I can’t see how she could control everything so tightly when she has two kids to look after.”

“Apart from that we are keeping a close eye on her, and she doesn’t appear to have stepped out of line, so far,” said Gardener. “We’ve read everything that the Bradford cyber team collated on her and I have my doubts.”

“So, back to Michael Foreman, what killed him?” asked Reilly.

Fitz sucked in air through his teeth and pulled out another folder from the desk.

“I’m still awaiting the results of the screening tests.”

“But you have a good idea.”

“Yes, and I’m afraid you’re not going to like it.”

“Do we ever?” asked Reilly.

“In my opinion, what Michael Foreman had been given was a highly toxic substance, and it was administered by someone who really knew his way around the stuff. In rapidly dividing cells, blood, hair follicles, cells in the gut, sperm, bone marrow and cancer, it becomes obvious when the original cells die and are not replaced. In treating cancer you rely on cancer cells having a quick turnover and you stop the treatment before it causes cell death in other organs.”

“Is that what he was given, an anti-cancer treatment?”

“Not strictly. I’m of the opinion he was given a dose of nitrogen mustard, which is related to mustard gas, some of which can be used as anti-cancer drugs. I think it was short term, probably administered as an injection not long before you found him. If it had been long term, we would likely have seen sickness, vomiting, hair loss, infection and anaemia due to low blood cell counts – just like the Russian diplomat who was given polonium some years back.”

Gardener struggled to