A Game of Murder by Francis Durbridge

Author:Francis Durbridge [Durbridge, Francis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781447215189
Publisher: Pan Macmillan UK

Chapter 3

It was the sound of the sirens that made Marty Smith put down the remains of his pint and hurry out into Carrington Road. A couple of fire engines, a police car and an ambulance tore past in quick succession. Opposite Defoe Mansions a crowd had collected on the pavement and were staring upwards.

Marty followed their line of sight and a shiver of pleasurable excitement ran through him. High up on top of Defoe Mansions he could make out the shape of two people, a man and a woman. They were clinging, or rather the man was clinging to the ridge of a dormer window in the roof of the new section which had been added when Defoe Mansions was converted. With his free hand the man was holding the waist-belt of the woman. By the lifeless way her body was slumped she must be either unconscious or dead.

Marty could see what had happened. She must have fallen from the main roof and slithered down the roof of the extension. If the dormer window had not been on the line of her fall, she must have plunged to the pavement far below. There was only one way the man could have reached her. He must have slid down the roof after her.

The mere thought was enough to make Marty shiver. He moved closer.

The fire brigade wasted no time in running an extending ladder up to the dormer window. The helmeted fireman, assisted by the man on the roof, got the woman over his shoulder and began to descend. The man edged over until he could get a foot on the top rung and then descended after them. The police had to hold the crowd back as the inert body was placed on a stretcher and swiftly loaded into the ambulance. The white vehicle, its blue light flashing and siren sounding, dashed away up the street.

Pushing reporters, police and onlookers aside, the man who had been on the roof raced towards a green Austin 1100 parked by the kerb. He jumped inside and set off in pursuit of the ambulance, whilst the police patrolmen piled into their own car to follow.

A buzz of excited speculation rose from the astonished onlookers. Marty Smith ran for the Rose and Crown, feeling in his pocket to see if he had the coins he would need for the telephone.

‘For heaven’s sake, relax, Harry! They’ve already told you she’s going to be all right.’ Nat spun the upright chair round and sat down, straddling it with his legs and leaning his arms on the back frame. ‘My God, if I were you I’d be out celebrating instead of worrying about a little tramp that tried to shoot the hell out of me.’

Harry said nothing. Nat glared at him accusingly and then pointed in the direction where they both knew the mortuary was.

‘You could be out there, chum. Don’t you realise that? If you hadn’t reacted quickly enough to dive under the bullet you could be out there lying on a slab for all she cares.

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