6 LONDON BY NIGHT, MARCH 2021
The unease that nagged Jake when he stepped on the pontoon proved to be well-founded. No sooner had he kissed Alice goodnight and left her at her front door than his private mobile rang alerting him to a call from Sir Clive.
“Wretched gal! If she’d heeded your warnings from the start, this wouldn’t have happened! Now the British Museum’s crawling with FSS police.”
Jake’s heart sank, the forensic science service meant only one thing – murder! “You’d better get over there chop-chop, dear boy. I’ve informed the Chief Superintendent of your imminent arrival so you’ll have no problem of access. And, Conley, make sure those journalist bods don’t get a whiff of this.” The call lasted several minutes as the civil servant speculated on the shakiness of his goddaught
