Fiddle City (Duffy Book 2) by Dan Kavanagh

Fiddle City (Duffy Book 2) by Dan Kavanagh

Author:Dan Kavanagh [Kavanagh, Dan]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9781480467514
Publisher: Open Road Media Mystery & Thriller
Published: 2014-02-04T00:00:00+00:00


8

THE NEXT DAY, WHEN he arrived for work, Duffy was again greeted by a punch on the bicep from Casey, and a chortle of ‘Cun’’. This flutter of affection from the Tattooed Man touched Duffy, and he began to wonder if he could unfix Casey. If he didn’t have to fix him, if he could leave all the thieving with McKay where it truly belonged, then that would square him with Hendrick. And if he unfixed Casey, then that would also be another promise broken towards Mrs Boseley, and that couldn’t be bad. It might be just worth a try, as long as it didn’t put him out too much.

At lunchtime he telephoned the hifi villains. If they had any sense, they wouldn’t have rushed straight round to their nearest middleman with the stuff; they’d wait a few days just to see if there wasn’t going to be any follow-up. He got the driver who liked the oil patches. Duffy’s voice was tuned to its streetiest.

‘It’s Duffy ’ere, from ’endrick, ’eafrow. ’Bout that case of sparks I frew in by mistake the uvver day. O.K. if I come rahnd this evening?’

‘What, mate?’

‘Case of sparks you got wiv yer hifi. I loaded for yer. Frew ’em in by mistake.’

‘Sparks?’

‘Ligh’ers, you know, snout ligh’ers. Frew in a case. Gotta ge’hem back or get the cowing sack.’

‘Can’t say I remember any, mate.’

‘Awri’, well, you prob’ly didn’ unload them. Prob’ly still sittin’ wivver hifi. But we go’hem booked aht t’ya, see?’

‘I’ll just go and check, old cock.’

‘Awri’.’

He was away several minutes, and Duffy was afraid of running out of 10p pieces before he returned. He sounded displeased.

‘We found them, mate, they were in with some tape-decks.’

‘Fanks, oh fanks a lot, you saved my skin.’

‘Well, I’m afraid one or two of them are missing. Someone seems to have been helping himself round here.’ The hifi villain’s pound of flesh, Duffy thought.

‘Lock ’em up till I get rahnd, willya? And fanks. You saved my skin.’

‘Any time.’

He didn’t sound as if he meant it.

It was going to be a busy evening, he could see that, so he decided to start early. Skipping off work at half four would irritate Mrs Boseley a great deal, which was of course an end in itself, but it would also enable him to get to the hifi villains in Ealing before they closed.

He picked up 140 of the original gross of lighters which he had switched, and drove home. Then he went to the nurses’ hostel and collected a small item from Christine. Home again, he packed a holdall with everything he thought he’d need and set off for Geoff’s flat. As he rang the bell, he pulled down his zip, and let his trousers gape. He did this every time he called on Bell.

‘Do your flies up, Duffy,’ said the entryphone. Duffy smiled. He’d never been able to spot the camera. Most people liked to let you know you were being spied on, through the fish-eye lens in the door, or the not-so-hidden camera; it gave them a sense of power as well as of security.



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