Dalziel 04 An April Shroud by Reginald Hill

Author:Reginald Hill [Hill, Reginald]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2011-08-31T21:10:01+00:00

11

Hello Sailor

Dalziel sat in the old man's sitting-room and drank brandy. He had no authority to investigate crime on this patch, he assured Fielding. But the truth was he had been so discomfited and irritated by Sergeant Cross's reproachful expression that the choice had been between escape and expulsion. The sergeant had not openly said that Dalziel had withheld information, but his suspicions clearly roused by the fat man's visit to Orburn that day must have seemed confirmed when Dalziel told him that Annie Greave (or Annie Grimshaw, or Open Annie) was well known to Liverpool CID.

'I telephoned them just on the off-chance she was using her proper name,' he explained. 'Not much imagination, these pros.'

'Ah,' said Cross.

The only immediate potential source of information about Mrs Greave was Papworth and he too had disappeared. His room, however, showed no signs of a hurried or permanent leave-taking and it seemed safe to assume he would return.

'You mustn't blame Bonnie,' said Fielding suddenly. He occupied the same chair in which he had received the Gumbelow award and Dalziel wondered if he had moved out of it since then. Apart from the debris of glasses and bottles which littered the room, the only other sign of the afternoon's junketings was Arkwright, the sound engineer, who slept with his head pillowed on and his arms still clasped protectively around his recorder. From time to time a bubbly and rather musical baritone snore emerged from his mouth.

Whether the others had gone or were also to be found unconscious round the premises, Dalziel did not know.

'Blame her for what?' he grunted.

'Going through your pockets,' said Fielding. 'It is after all a sensible thing to do when hanging up a suit to dry.'

'What was she doing in my wallet?' demanded Dalziel. 'Ironing my money? And why didn't you lot say you knew I was a policeman?'

Fielding shrugged.

'Why didn't you tell us?'

'Why should I?'

'Why indeed? But it doesn't create an atmosphere of confidence having someone in your house under false pretence.'

Dalziel refilled his glass with a brusqueness which in another man might have resulted in spillage.

'I pretended nowt.'

'Come, come,' said Fielding mildly. 'This morning Bertie and Lou went to Bonnie with some story about the possibility of your putting money into the restaurant. They were very put out when she told them who you were.'

'Oh. They didn't know till then?' said Dalziel thoughtfully.'

'No.'

'And you?'

'Bonnie told me this morning too. She's a very discreet woman.'

Dalziel considered the implications. It was a comfort to know there hadn't been a general conspiracy, with everyone watching the big thick policeman blundering around. It was also good to know that whatever asexual motives Bonnie might have had for going to bed with him, the hope of more money for the business wasn't one of them. But this still left some disturbing possibilities. A detective grew accustomed to attempts to use sex either as a means of buying him off or compromising him. It didn't happen every night or every week or even every month.

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