THE RAILWAY MAN: a DCI Blizzard murder mystery by John Dean

Author:John Dean [Dean, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Book Folks British crime fiction publisher
Published: 2017-11-27T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter ten

Blizzard pulled the car into a back street a short distance from the city centre. As the detectives got out, the inspector glanced around him. Railway Street stood in what had once been a commercial area full of offices constructed by the city’s railway company. When the company ceased to operate in the 1920s, the offices had been taken over by other businesses but Hafton’s prolonged post-war economic decline had taken its toll and most of the terraced buildings now stood derelict, their windows boarded up, the doors defaced with obscene graffiti and roofs with gaping holes where the tiles had come off. There was a faint smell of smoke in the air and Blizzard noticed that one of the houses had recently been burned out, its scorched rafters gaunt and skeletal in the late afternoon sunshine.

‘This place was once the commercial heartbeat of the city,’ said the inspector as they started to walk across the street. ‘See that building on the corner, the one with the green door? That is where Archibald Galsworthy founded the Hafton Railway Company in 1848.’

‘I heard they were going to demolish the whole lot,’ said Colley, trying not to look bored. ‘I read in the paper that they fancy a bowling alley here.’

‘No respect for history,’ snorted Blizzard.

‘I dunno, it sounded quite good. Quite fancied taking Laura when she’s big enough.’

Blizzard said nothing and together they walked down the street towards Tulley, who had been leaning against a lamp-post and watching their conversation with a wry smile. Colley arrived ahead of the inspector and Tulley winked at his colleague.

‘You been getting the history lesson then, Dave?’ he said.

The sergeant nodded bleakly.

‘Hey, you’ll like this, guv,’ said Tulley in a louder voice, gesturing to a door bearing the words Hafton Railway Boxing Club. ‘Apparently, the club was set up by the railway company in 1910. There’s a plaque on the wall over there.’

‘There is indeed. This place would have been started when Archibald Galsworthy’s grandson was running the company. He was a great sportsman, you know. In fact, I seem to recall that he was a keen boxer. Anyway, is Lawrie Gaines in there?’

‘Don’t think so. Roly Turner is, mind.’

‘How come we have not been able to find him this weekend?’ asked the inspector.

‘He’s been away for a couple of days.’

‘Where’s he been?’

‘Nothing sinister about it, as far as I can see. There’s a poster on one of the windows about a tournament in Scotland. I reckon that’s where they’ve been.’

Blizzard led the way through the door and into a large, if somewhat shabby, gymnasium, with plaster peeling off the walls and several light bulbs having failed, giving the room a dim appearance with shadows in the corners. Half a dozen teenagers were going through their exercises in a corner, a couple of young men were working at a punchbag and in the ring a couple of fighters in their late twenties were sparring, watched intently by a wiry, white-haired man in his early seventies.

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