Death Department (Thane & Moss Book 2) by Bill Knox

Author:Bill Knox [Knox, Bill]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Zertex Crime
Published: 2024-02-27T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

They walked back along the busy street, towards the store. A slight, cool south-west breeze gusted along the gutter, scooping a cloud of dust and old tram-tickets along in its arms. The heatwave was dying.

‘Rain before night,’ prophesied Thane again. Then, as the white flash of news bills caught his eye, ‘Let’s see what sort of a press we’ve got… and hope for the best.’

The vendor, a wizened, bleary-eyed ex-burglar who had finally “gone straight” after rheumatism had reduced his agility to the almost ludicrous point where he had been unable to outdistance an old woman who caught him rifling her sideboard late one night, waved aside the proffered sixpence.

‘Compliments of Willie,’ he winked, handing over the first editions of the two evening papers. ‘Having a busy time, Mr Thane, eh?’

‘How’s the back, Willie?’ asked Thane, who had a soft spot for the old lag.

Willie had been his first arrest as a C.I.D. officer, two days after he won promotion from the beat. He had been a much more agile Willie in those days… but then, mused the detective, Colin Thane had been a bit more streamlined himself.

‘Not so bad, sir… The sunshine’s the best medicine I can get,’ said the little newsvendor. ‘But business is on the slide. Everybody watches TV now, nobody’s got any time left to read papers. If it wasn’t for the racing results, I’d be in a bad way, I can tell you!’

‘Sell many papers across the way?’ asked Thane casually, waving towards the vast, soaring bulk of the Hillman building. ‘There’s bound to be some of them keen on horses.’

‘You’re dead right,’ chuckled the little man. ‘Plenty of them have a flutter, and that goes for the bosses too.’

‘Collect any of the lines, Willie?’ asked Moss, following Thane’s cue. ‘Give us it straight, now—we’re not interested in “lifting” you for being a bookie’s runner, so don’t worry.’

The little man hesitated, then somewhat reluctantly agreed, ‘A few now and then—-just a few, Mr Moss, an obligement more than anything.’

‘How about a bloke called Richards, an ex-cop who’s one of the doormen?’ fished Moss.

‘Him?’ Willie showed his opinion by spitting expertly onto the roadway. ‘Throws his weight about, that bastard. But the bookies cramped his style. Cash on the nail, it is now, or no bet, till he pays what he owes.’

‘Did you see him around last night, Willie?’ broke in Thane. ‘Think hard.’

The little man turned away to deal with a couple of approaching customers. When he had expertly slid them their papers from the huge bundle he clutched under one arm and had poured the correct change into their palms, he faced the detectives again.

‘Last night?’ he queried. ‘Aye, I saw the big basket.’ He looked suddenly worried. ‘Here, Mr Thane, you’re no askin’ me to “grass” on him, are you? He can rot in the nearest sewer for a’ I care, but ah canny “grass” on him. Ah’ve never been a polis stoolie yet, and ah’m no startin’ now.’

‘I’d hate to run you in, Willie,’ said Thane in a soft, quiet voice.

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