Masters and Green Series Box Set by Douglas Clark

Author:Douglas Clark [Clark, Douglas]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Endeavour Media
Published: 2019-10-09T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Four

In the car on the way back to the Estuary, nobody spoke anything more than brief intermittent sentences. It was dark, and Finstoft had again settled down, after its afternoon of activity, to a night of suspended animation. The shops had closed their doors, but the internal lighting gave them snatches of 3–D pictures as the car drove past. It was as cheerless as a theatre after the comedy has finished and all but the pilot lights have been extinguished. But in this case, not even the atmosphere of laughter remained.

‘One quick drink when we get in,’ said Masters. ‘Then P.C. Garner can go, and the rest of us will confer in my room before dinner. I hope that will leave us free for an hour or so later.’

Green said: ‘Seems the best plan. I didn’t even get a cup of tea out of the Osborns. Mean as muck, they were. And twice as nasty.’

The Sundowner was almost empty as they trooped down the stairs. Sitting on the same stool as the night before was Derek Tintern. He was arguing with Shirl about the change she had given him. He said: ‘I gave you a pound note. No. Ten shillings?’

Shirl said emphatically: ‘It was a pound, ducky. I’m not out to do you.’

‘A pound, yes. You say you’re not out to do me. But you are doing me. A double gin is . . . what is a double gin? Anyhow, I think you’ve charged me for a tonic.’

‘Feel for the bedpost, love. Double gin’s five an’ four. If you’d got a tonic an’ all, it’d have been six an’ four. Now look at your change.’ She counted as he held it out on his palm. ‘Two an’ six, four an’ six, an’ tuppence is four an’ eight. Four an’ eight an’ five an’ four is ten bob. An’ ten makes a pound.’

Tintern looked morose and kept the money in his hand, without leaving a tip in the ashtray. Masters noticed he appeared to be wearing the same shirt as the night before, but now, on the right collar front was an ink smudge. He thought Tintern must be one of those who put a clean shirt on each evening, and then wear it again the following day. It meant Tintern hadn’t yet been upstairs to wash and change. Masters felt Sherlock Holmesish about his deduction.

Shirl moved down the counter towards them. Brant said: ‘Having a bit of trouble?’

‘With him? No. He often does it. I’ve never understood why he can’t add up the change for a pound right, when after dinner he can play bridge like a champion an’ never miscount a point. He’s good at it, you know. All the old bags who play think he’s marvellous.’

‘There’s nowt as queer as fowk,’ said Brant. ‘Four pints of draught Worthington, please, Shirl. No! Five. I was forgetting P.C. Garner.’

Two or three more people clattered down the stairs. Shirl said: ‘Looks like we’ll be filling up a bit more tonight than we have done this last week.

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