SHERLOCK HOLMES AND THE KRAY TWINS: there's a debt to be paid. by David C Phillips

Author:David C Phillips [Phillips, David C]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2022-07-07T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13

Adolf Morris

A few weeks after the fight, we’d been invited down to Vallance Road to tell Ron more about Enugu and Cameroon. We parked up a few doors away and walked down to 178. Holmes noticed, on the other side of the road, a black Austin Westminster with the rear window wound down. Ron had answered the door, and as soon as we were inside, I mentioned the car to him.

''Probably old bill,'' he said. As he pulled the curtain aside to look out, the car shot away from the kerb and out of our sight. Ron said to Holmes, ''Did you recognise the fellow in the back? That was fucking Adie Morris. What’s he doing parking up near our house? I’m gonna fucking have a word with him.''

It was then I remembered the phone call Kathy had got. I guessed Adie might have the idea she was seeing Holmes and not me as it was him who scragged his brother.

He laughed when I told him about the phone call. ''If he had any guts he would come and see me himself, not make threats on the telephone. He sounds to me, like the type of fellow who would let down your tyres or scratch your paintwork. Cowardly.'' We didn’t know then that Adie Morris was a bit more serious than that.

After leaving Vallance Road we drove over to Holmes’s, taking all the precautions to make sure we weren’t followed. We jumped at least two sets of lights and did a couple of U turns.

The reason for that, was that I’d seen the very same motor parked up near my flat. Knowing they couldn’t have tailed me there, it had to be that someone had given them my address; and to my knowledge, the only ones who knew it were Tommy, Dick, the Scotch geezer Billy, and the twins. Five of ‘em, and I’d put my money on Tommy. Holmes was certain he’d seen the same car as well, but he couldn’t think where.

Fortunately, he’d clocked the registration outside Ron’s, and he had a contact in the relevant offices who could give him the name and address of the owner. It took about ten minutes to find out that the car was registered to Miss Louise Rutherford at an address in Radnor Mews, London W2.

Back in his flat, while we were waiting for it to get dark, Holmes cooked me a nice meal of spaghetti. I’d never ever eaten it before, and never wanted to, simply because it reminded me of worms.

Anyway, he persuaded me, and I watched him while he cooked it. He soon found a bit of opera on the radio and went to chopping the mushrooms and onions. While they were cooking, he was splashing in white wine, and cream from the fridge, and different herbs. In less than half hour we were sitting at the table eating, and the operatic girl was warbling away. If I’m honest I’d have to say that in that flat, at that time, in that atmosphere, and with the wine, it was one of the best meals I’ve ever had.

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