A Reconstructed Corpse by Simon Brett

Author:Simon Brett [Simon Brett]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Severn House Publishers Ltd
Published: 2012-09-29T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

THE LITTLE man had got a firm lock on Charles and proved to be surprisingly strong. ‘I used to be in the Commandos,’ his voice hissed. ‘I know about immobilising an enemy. So don’t try anything. You won’t get away from me.’

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake!’ said Charles. ‘This is ridiculous. I don’t want to get into a fight. I am not Martin Earnshaw.’

‘Well, you look like him.’

‘Yes, I do look like him. That is the whole point. I am an actor and I got the job of playing Martin Earnshaw in the Public Enemies reconstruction for the very simple reason that I do look like him.’

‘A likely story,’ the little man sneered.

‘Oh, just let me go!’

Charles tried a sudden movement to jerk himself free, but the hold remained firm. Whether he’d learnt it in the Commandos or not, the little man certainly knew how to restrain a captive. Charles gave up struggling. ‘So what are you proposing to do with me then?’

‘I’m going to take you to the police station and turn you over to the proper authorities. I know my duty as a citizen,’ the little man concluded piously.

‘But look, I can prove I’m not Martin Earnshaw. My name is Charles Paris. I’m an actor. I have credit cards in my wallet to prove it.’

‘You could have stolen those.’

‘Why should I?’

‘You might have wanted to disguise your identity, so that the police wouldn’t get on to you.’

‘Look, if I was Martin Earnshaw and was going to disguise my identity, I’d make a darned sight better job of it than this.’

‘Ah, so you admit you are Martin Earnshaw.’

‘No, I don’t!’ God, this was like arguing with a three-year-old. ‘All I’m saying is, if I was Martin Earnshaw, I’d have disguised myself by making my face look different, wouldn’t I, not just by stealing someone’s bloody credit cards!’

‘All criminals make that one little mistake,’ the little man countered with infuriating complacency. ‘And you might have got away with it . . . if you hadn’t had the bad luck to come up against me.’

Who did he think he was, for God’s sake – Superman?

‘Look, could you just for one moment be sensible? Let go of me and I will prove to you that I’m not Martin Earnshaw. I mean, of course I’m not Martin Earnshaw! The man’s dead, apart from anything else!’

‘Apparently dead,’ the little man riposted slyly.

‘Oh . . .!’ Charles made another attempt to break free. This time a sudden lurch sideways caught his captor off balance, and the two of them fell to the pavement. But the wiry arms kept their grip, still immobilising Charles’s own. He tried to roll them both over and use his weight to get the little man – literally – off his back.

It was in the course of this undignified scrabbling that he became aware of a tall figure leaning over them and a ponderous voice asking, ‘What’s going on here then?’

Charles Paris squinted up to see the outline of a uniformed constable.

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