The Tin God by Chris Nickson

Author:Chris Nickson [Chris Nickson]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severn House Publishers
Published: 2018-01-19T16:00:00+00:00

SIXTEEN

It was a respectable address, no more than a stone’s throw from the house where Harper had lodged before he was married. It was close enough to have witnessed the explosion at the church hall.

‘What do we know about him?’ They stood at the corner of the street, an odd grouping of men with their heads together.

‘No police record.’ Fowler looked at his notebook. ‘Going back in the city directory, he’s been in the house for at least five years. That’s all.’

‘I’ll go to the front door with Walsh. You two cover the back. The usual drill. If he’s our man, he probably won’t be expecting us to find him.’

‘If he puts up a fight, sir?’ Ash asked, and Harper gave him a withering look.

‘Let’s hope the librarian was right and we can put a stop to things now.’ He straightened his back and began to walk.

Number eight was one of a series of three-storey villas. A cellar where the maid-of-all-work did her job. A pocket-handkerchief garden at the front, the small patch of grass trimmed close and square. The houses were no more than ten years old but they already had that dark Leeds patina, the drift of smoke and soot up from the factories in Sheepscar and Meanwood, with the faint tang from the gasometer scenting the air. He took hold of the polished door knocker.

‘Ready?’

‘Ready, sir,’ Walsh replied.

The man who answered resembled the description they had. Tall enough, greying hair, in his forties, neatly dressed. But when Harper announced himself, he looked confused.

‘Police?’ he asked. ‘What have I done?’

‘Might we come in, sir?’

‘Yes, yes, I suppose so. The girl’s gone to the shops or I’d offer you some tea.’

Once they were seated in the parlour, Surtees asked again: ‘What have I done, Superintendent?’

If he was acting, he was very good. Harper felt the urgency starting to trickle away. Five minutes later he was certain that Surtees wasn’t a criminal.

‘I do go to the library quite regularly,’ the man admitted. ‘But I’ve never taken out a book on explosives.’ He sounded faintly amused by the idea. ‘And I’m not sure I’d know a folk song if you stood there and sang one for me.’

‘Would you mind if Detective Constable Walsh took a look through the house, sir?’

‘If you think it’s necessary, feel free,’ Surtees agreed. ‘But there’s nothing remarkable to find, besides my collection of butterflies.’ He looked at Walsh beseechingly. ‘Please be careful with them; it’s a lifetime’s work.’

When the detective constable returned with a sad shake of his head, Harper stood and made his apologies.

‘I quite understand, Superintendent. I hope you find him soon. I heard that bomb go off, it was terrible. From what you’ve told me, someone like that needs to be behind bars.’

‘It was still a good idea,’ Harper said once they were back at Millgarth. ‘You were on the right track.’

‘Can’t blame the librarian, either,’ Fowler agreed. ‘She did say she wasn’t certain.’

‘It might be worth having another word with her. You know, get in touch if something springs into her head, that sort of thing.

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