The New Eastgate Swing by Chris Nickson

Author:Chris Nickson
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780750967891
Publisher: The History Press
Published: 2015-11-19T05:00:00+00:00

I don’t know if you’ve read this. A friend brought it back from America a couple of months ago, apparently it’s just been published. It’s rather good and the whole thing is just like jazz, like that Monk fellow you like. I thought you might enjoy it.

And remember, let me know when you’re ready. If you want to be ready.

Carla.

He set the book aside but inside he was smiling.

‘Penny for them,’ Baker said quietly.

‘You’d get a ha’penny in change.’

‘Go home. Get yourself some rest. Read your new book.’

‘I want to finish that other fraud.’

‘No one’s going to thank you for turning up looking like you’ve gone ten rounds with Sugar Ray Robinson.’

‘Does it look that bad?’ Markham managed a weak grin.

‘Worse.’

Baker was right. He’d been reluctant to admit it when he looked in the mirror that morning, but he knew it was true. He struggled back into his overcoat, every muscle complaining.

‘Tomorrow night,’ Baker said. ‘You’ll be feeling better by then. We’ll go out to Yeadon. And in the meantime, keep your eyes peeled. Just in case.’

***

He felt numb. They were deep in this. Someone had tried to kill him. Might even have succeeded except for luck. All because of a missing person case.

Walking along Briggate, people veered away from him with horrified looks, but he scarcely noticed. The pavement was busy but he had a clear path all the way to Boots. Georgina was behind the counter closest to the door, by the cash register. Her mouth opened wide as she spotted him and saw what had become of his face. She finished serving a customer, had a word with the girl next to her and hurried over.

‘My God, Dan, what happened to you?’ she whispered. She had fear and concern in her eyes, reaching out and stroking his cheek lightly.

‘I lost an argument.’ He tried to keep his tone light. ‘It looks worse than it really is.’

A white lie. A big one. Her eyes examined his face.

‘I hope that’s true.’

‘Would you mind if we didn’t do anything tonight? I don’t really want to go out looking like this.’

‘No, that’s fine,’ she agreed quickly. Then she made a decision. ‘I tell you what, why don’t I come over after I finish here? I can take the bus. Just to talk. I’ll pick up some fish and chips from Nash’s.’

***

At home he checked the locks and bolted the door. The man wouldn’t be back, he told himself. If he said it often enough he might convince himself. Knowing it in his head was one thing. Feeling it in his heart was another. He’d stay very wary and alert. At least this time he wasn’t in it alone. That was one tiny crumb of comfort, for all it was worth.

Baker was right about that, Markham thought as he settled in the tub. Hot water and bath salts relaxed his muscles. He let himself soak until he began to feel a chill, dried and dressed in his American blue jeans and a heavy jumper and tried to relax with the book.

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