Two Bronze Pennies by Chris Nickson

Author:Chris Nickson
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781780106595
Publisher: Severn House Publishers
Published: 2015-03-05T16:00:00+00:00

SIXTEEN

Harper hurried down the Headrow towards Park Square. He should have been at the Great Synagogue, talking to Rabbi Feldman, but first he needed to do this; he’d promised Annabelle.

The brass plaque outside the building was lovingly polished, engraved with copperplate script, the door painted a thick, glossy black. The inspector took a deep breath, turned the handle and entered. Inside, the atmosphere was as hushed as any church. A fire burned comfortingly in the grate and a thick Oriental rug covered the glistening floorboards. A single marble bust sat on a table, and in the corner an elephant’s foot container held umbrellas and walking sticks. There were two paintings on the walls, a pair of naval scenes, all the subtle touches of wealth. But the people who paid Dr Kent’s fees would expect nothing less. They wanted luxury and gentility, to feel exclusive. Two patients looked up for a moment and returned to their newspapers. He felt out of place here; he’d been up most of the night, and he was unshaved, his suit rumpled. Turn and walk out, he told himself. But he knew what Annabelle would say. Don’t you dare, Tom Harper. Our money’s just as good as theirs.

The clerk behind the polished desk was young and so well-groomed he seemed to shine. Harper could feel the man’s eyes judging him and finding him wanting.

‘Can I help you, sir?’

‘I’d like to make an appointment to see Dr Kent.’

It was simply done. Saturday the third, two days away, at nine in the morning. Maybe the doctor really could help with his hearing. He hoped to God he could, anyway.

The burned doors of the synagogue on Belgrave Street had been replaced, and wood shavings still lay on the pavement. Harper entered, removing his hat as he looked around. Everything was clean, smelling of beeswax, seats like pews and a gallery above.

Feldman stood by a lectern at the far end of the room, a scroll opened before him. He glanced up at footsteps crossing the floor.

‘Coming to the funeral, Inspector? It’s at two o’clock.’

‘I’m here to see what I can do to help, Rabbi.’

‘Help?’ Feldman cocked his head and his eyes hardened. ‘The best help you can give is to find the killer.’

‘I know.’ He nodded slowly.

‘People are scared, Mr Harper,’ the rabbi continued. ‘We’ve seen it all before. We know that this is how it all starts.’

‘We’ll look after you. I told you that. Every one of you.’

Feldman shook his head. ‘You haven’t, Inspector. You give us promises, but you haven’t made us safe.’ He raised a hand, pointing over to the Leylands. ‘There are already people packing out there. They’re ready to flee. Do you really want to see how people feel around here?’

‘What?’ he asked, hoping the rabbi had something useful to show him.

‘Come back this afternoon. Take a walk around. You won’t find anything open anywhere in the Leylands. No shops, no businesses. Everything will be closed.’

‘I see.’

‘No, you don’t, Inspector, but never mind. It’s our message.

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