The Forensic Records Society by Magnus Mills

Author:Magnus Mills
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781408878385
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2016-12-25T10:18:33+00:00

‘Well,’ said Mike, ‘they go to the meetings of their own accord so they must know what they’re letting themselves in for.’

‘Suppose so.’

‘If they want to be fleeced for a fiver every week it’s up to them,’ he added. ‘It makes no difference to us.’

‘“Us” being who?’ I asked.

‘The forensics, of course,’ he said, with disbelief. ‘Who do you think I mean?’

‘Oh,’ I said. ‘So you’re not abandoning the cause then?’

‘Of course not!’

‘But you spent last night with the perceptives.’

‘All part of the same movement as far as I’m concerned,’ said Mike. ‘They’re just an offshoot.’

It was gratifying to hear him talk like this, and I began to get a clearer picture of his allegiances. Nevertheless he proceeded to make it plain that he was dissatisfied with the current arrangements and would probably give the Monday session a miss for a week or two.

‘James is too strict,’ he said bluntly. ‘At least Chris and Keith give me a bit of freedom.’

‘What about the CRS?’ I asked. ‘I presume you don’t count them as part of the same movement.’

‘No,’ said Mike. ‘They’re not serious about music.’

‘They play good records now and again.’

‘Maybe they do,’ he said, ‘but only by accident.’

It was my turn to buy a round of drinks, so I went over to the bar and quickly got served by George. He was in a relatively good mood.

‘Some friends of yours were here last night,’ he said, indicating the wall opposite. I followed his gaze and saw that another notice had recently appeared:

NEW FORENSIC RECORDS SOCIETY

MEETS HERE

TUESDAYS 9PM

BRING THREE RECORDS OF YOUR CHOICE

I read the words with astonishment, then read them again just to make sure I wasn’t mistaken, but there was no doubt about it. The implications were shattering. The upstart society was patently much more than a mere ‘offshoot’ (to use Mike’s expression). On the contrary, all the evidence signalled that we were in the midst of a coup. The culprits had pounced on the vacant Tuesday-night slot with the obvious aim of stepping directly into our shoes. Furthermore, they had lots of time on their side. It was only Thursday, which gave them the best part of a week to organise a recruitment drive. For a brief instant I felt impelled to rush round and tell James the disastrous news, and perhaps even urge him to take countermeasures. In the back of my mind, however, I knew such efforts would be futile. After all, it was James’s intractability that lay at the root of all the disaffection we’d experienced. He was hardly going to change his ways at this late stage, so I was left with a stark choice between deserting him or remaining loyal. It goes without saying I chose the latter course.

George was naturally elated at the prospect of some extra business. He was whistling a merry tune as he filled our glasses and placed them on the counter.

‘So who put the notice up?’ I enquired.

‘I just told you,’ George replied. ‘Some friends of yours.’

‘Yes, but who exactly?’

‘Can’t say any more,’ he announced.

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