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Broome fingered the packet, but didn t seem in a hurry to
open it.  Hoffer, he said,  there was some shooting in north
London last night.
 Yeah, I read about it.
 We ve got a description of a fat man seen running away.
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Bleeding Hearts
 Uh-huh?
Broome pinched the bridge of his nose.  There s also been a
mugging, except that no money was taken from the victim.
Broome looked up.  You re supposed to ask me who the victim
was.
Hoffer blew his nose before asking.  So who was it?
 Mr. Arthur, the bank manager.
Hoffer threw his used tissue into the bin beside Broome s
desk.
 You wouldn t know anything about it, Hoffer?
 Give me a break, Bob. I haven t mugged anyone since I quit
the NYPD. You get a description of the assailants?
Broome was staring at Hoffer.  He was hit from behind. He s
got a concussion.
Hoffer shook his head.  Nice guy, too. Nobody s safe these
days.
Broome sighed and rubbed his eyes.  All right, he said,  let s
listen to the tape.
He had a DC bring in a portable cassette player and set it up.
 This local station must be on their toes, said Hoffer.
 They tape all calls to the news desk, partly as a favor to us.
 Why?
 Because the IRA often call a local radio station to take re-
sponsibility for a bombing. That way the news gets on the air
faster, plus it doesn t look like they re cooperating with us.
 So the radio station s a kind of go-between?
 Sort of, yes. Broome loaded the tape and pressed Play.
There was some soft hissing, which became louder until some-
one spoke.
 News desk, Joely speaking.
 This is the Demolition Man, do you understand?
 Dem . . . ? Oh yes, yes, I understand.
 Listen then. Tell everyone I hit my intended target, got
that? I wasn t after the diplomat. He just happened to be there.
Understood?
 Mm, yes. Joely was obviously writing it all down.  Yes, I ve
got that. Can I just ask 
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Ian Rankin
 No questions. If anyone thinks this is a hoax, tell them
Egypt, the Cairo Hilton, twelfth of December two years ago.
 Hello? Hello? But the Demolition Man had hung up.
Broome listened to the silence for a few moments, then stopped
and rewound the tape.
 The original s gone to the lab boys, he said.  We ll see what
they say.
 Sounded like he was at a pay phone, and not long distance.
He s English, isn t he?
 Sounds it. Sounded like he was trying to disguise his
voice too.
Hoffer smiled.  You weren t taken in by the Jimmy Durante
impression?
 Maybe he s got a cold.
 Yeah, maybe.
Broome looked at Hoffer.  Egypt?
Hoffer nodded.  Yeah, it s not one everyone knows about.
Nobody s been able to say it was the D-Man, so it never makes
the papers. It was a precision hit, long-range, but he didn t leave
a bomb. Either that or the bomb didn t detonate.
 Who did he kill?
 Some Arab millionaire with big gambling debts which he
was unwisely ignoring. Hoffer shrugged.  The gambler was a
Mr. Big, didn t think anyone could touch him. He had an armored
Mercedes and four bodyguards a grenade launcher couldn t ve
budged. They used to huddle round their boss when he went any-
where, like he was Muhammad Ali going into the ring. Then,
pop, a bullet hits the guy smack in the heart, and they re all look-
ing around, only they don t know where to look because there s
nothing there to look at. They reckon it was a hit from six, maybe
seven hundred yards.
 You know a lot about it.
 I ve had a lot of time to look things up. I ve got a file of more
than sixty assassinations going back fifteen years. He could be be-
hind any number of them.
 Would anyone else know about it?
 Only someone as obsessed as me. Hoffer paused.  It s him
on the tape, I know it s him.
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Bleeding Hearts
 We ll see if the experts can come up with anything.
 Such as?
 You d be surprised. We ve got linguistic people who might
pin down his accent, even if you and I can t tell he s got one. We
could get it down to a region or county.
 Wow, I m impressed.
 It s slow and methodical, Hoffer, that s how we do things. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]