Exit Lines by Reginald Hill

Author:Reginald Hill [Hill, Reginald]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, General, Mystery & Detective, Mystery Fiction, England, Police, Police Procedural, Yorkshire (England), Dalziel; Andrew (Fictitious Character), Pascoe; Peter (Fictitious Character), Police - England - Yorkshire, Yorkshire
ISBN: 9781934609606
Google: D0R0bwAACAAJ
Amazon: 1934609609
Publisher: Felony & Mayhem
Published: 1983-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

‘God bless … God damn!’

Perhaps fortunately for Andrew Dalziel, the Deputy Chief Constable was neither a vindictive nor a naturally suspicious man. There was no denying that the Head of CID had long been a thorn in his side, if one so broad and solid could be thus described. The Superintendent had made small effort in the past to conceal his contempt for the DCC’s intellect, outlook and abilities. The DCC found this a considerable but bearable irritation. He knew his own worth and he had a pretty fair idea of Dalziel’s too. It was this ability to separate the Superintendent’s manners from his morals that had caused him to pitch the investigation in such a low key. He found it hard to believe that Dalziel, even in panic, would attempt to duck responsibility for any action of his own. So he had set George Headingley to take a close but discreet look at things.

But now there were faint whiffs of something more corrupt than an accident cover-up coming his way. Typically, the DCC’s method was to proceed with even greater discretion. Down in the Met they may have lived so long in an atmosphere of suspected corruption that it was probably suspicious for a senior police officer not to be suspected! But up here in the clearer, fresher air of Yorkshire, where the blunt honest burghers knew for certain that there was no smoke without fire, it was still possible for a man’s career to be indelibly darkened by suspicion. So on Monday morning at ten o’clock he found occasion to telephone the regional office of HM Customs and Excise on a question of some necessary statistics for the Chief Constable’s annual report, and when this had been sorted out to everyone’s satisfaction, he made casual inquiry into the state of the investigation into alleged irregularities in the conduct of A. Charlesworth, Turf Accountant, Ltd.

The investigation had been conducted, he was told.

There would be no proceedings.

Did this mean that there had been no irregularities?

‘It means,’ said his informant, not without a touch of acidity, ‘that there has been no evidence. Mr Charlesworth’s records are so clean you’d think they’d been done only yesterday.’

This sounded like good news to the DCC till he incautiously requested complete assurance.

‘You mean that Mr Charlesworth has committed no crime.’

There was a pause before the acid voice said carefully, ‘I mean that Mr Charlesworth is either the single most conscientious bookmaker we have ever dealt with or that he knew we were coming.’

It emerged that the investigation had been timed to coincide with the final meet of the flat racing season, at Doncaster the weekend before last. Charlesworth’s was very much a Yorkshire firm with betting shops all over the county and a large presence at all northern race meetings, so Charlesworth himself would be down at Doncaster on this day and his head office ought to have been particularly vulnerable. Instead they found things here and in all the shops raided in perfect order.

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