Death Comes For The Fat Man by Reginald Hill

Author:Reginald Hill [Hill, Reginald]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2007-08-15T07:00:00+00:00

13

NO CHANGE

Pascoe moved fast.

No doubt Wield, and everyone else, would have rational explanations for all this, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

He called up Hospital Security and got a man posted outside Hector’s room.

“No one in unless they’re known to you,” he commanded. “Especially not this chap.”

He showed the photo on the back of the book he’d confiscated from the grumpy patient whose name was Mills and who was in the Central for a hemorrhoidectomy, which perhaps explained his grumpiness.

Compared with the jacket photo, Hector’s drawing gave a rather clearer picture of the man’s features, but Pascoe felt the armor and the jaguar might be a distraction.

“I’ll get one of our officers stationed here as soon as possible,” he told the security guard. “Till then, don’t budge.”

Two of the other three Security men on duty he set to checking waiting rooms and public areas just in case Youngman was still on the premises. The third he dispatched to the car park to take note of any Jaguars left there. But Pascoe had a feeling that his man was long gone.

He rang through to the Station and found Paddy Ireland on duty. When he inquired about spare bodies, the inspector began Uniformed’s standard moan about shortage of manpower and deep cuts in the overtime budget till Pascoe silenced him with, “Paddy, remember you got your knickers in a twist about Mill Street? Well, you were right then, I humbly admit it, and I apologize. But I’m right now.”

“In that case, I’ll see what I can do,” said Ireland.

A car with Alan Maycock and Joker Jennison in it appeared on the scene within ten minutes. Jennison said, “Got another fireworks display laid on for us, sir?” Maycock kicked him violently on the ankle and said, “Mr. Ireland says he’ll try and get another couple of bodies along in the next half hour.”

Pascoe said, “Thank you for that, Alan. And for the kick,” and put them to work.

He was grateful to Ireland but didn’t doubt he’d cover his own back, so it was no surprise when Chief Constable Dan Trimble showed up a quarter of an hour later, looking like a man who’d been snatched unwillingly from the bosom of his family.

“Peter, what’s going on?” he demanded. “Paddy Ireland says you think someone might be trying to kill Hector. Why in the name of God should anyone want to do that?”

Paddy’s told him what I think, thought Pascoe. But he wants to make me say it myself, and then he can bollock me for not ringing him straightaway.

Trimble listened without comment till Pascoe concluded, “I think that Hector’s accident wasn’t an accident, but someone deliberately ran him down for fear he might be able to identify the man he saw in the video shop on Mill Street. And I think the same man came here today to try and have a second bite at the cherry.”

Now the Chief spoke.

“I thought I made it clear that I was to be kept apprised of anything that could have a connection with the Mill Street explosion,” he said coldly.

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