Inspector Ghote Hunts the Peacock by H. R. F. Keating

Author:H. R. F. Keating [H. R. F. Keating]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severn House Publishers
Published: 2020-01-23T16:00:00+00:00

TEN

At the door of the Robin’s Nest Ghote looked quickly to left and to right. There was no sign of Pete Smith or even of his slinking black dog.

Ghote’s heart sank. To have got so near being led straight to the very man he wanted to see, and then at the very outset of the trail to have lost his quarry. It was almost unbearable when things were going so well.

He turned and ran quickly into the Portobello Road itself. He looked up and down the narrow street.

And Pete Smith was there, shambling along some twenty yards away. The distance was ideal on a night like this with not many people about. With a sudden flood of new confidence, Ghote buttoned up his big coat and set off in quiet pursuit.

He kept close to the inside edge of the pavement and was careful to move quickly across the shopfronts that were lit up. He soon began to feel certain that, in spite of this unfamiliar environment, he was unlikely to be spotted if Pete should happen to glance back. Often in fact he should be hardly visible in the shadows cast by the glare of the high neon signs over the occasional grocer’s shop or cheap clothing store.

Pete appeared to be walking at a steady pace, keeping more or less to the middle of the pavement with his shoulders hunched and his big head down. A yard behind the black dog followed him, its belly close to the ground.

In the roadway cars swept by infrequently. The noise of their engines was almost the only sound to be heard above the constant, distant murmur of the great city itself.

Then, without any warning, from round the corner ahead there burst a group of half a dozen youngsters, sixteen or seventeen year olds, mostly wearing short, furry-collared coats over narrow trousers, and walking along shouting loudly to each other and breaking into sudden roars of pointless laughter. Within a few seconds they formed a solid screen between Ghote and his quarry.

He frowned in irritation.

The blockage would mean moving right over to the outside edge of the pavement or even into the roadway, and if Pete looked back then he might well take alarm. But there was nothing else for it. It was vital to keep him constantly in view. There could easily be odd narrow passages leading off a street like this between the old, dingy houses above the cheaply smart shops. If Pete suddenly plunged into one of these, it would be almost impossible not to lose him.

He walked rapidly out across the pavement.

“Hey.”

It was one of the noisy group. He realised that the youth who had shouted had meant it for him, but he decided to ignore him. Quickly he stepped out into the road. Pete Smith was still shambling unconcernedly along, some thirty yards ahead now.

“Hey, you. Where d’you get that coat?”

The witticism was greeted by a tremendous yell of laughter from the rest of the gang. And, without a

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