Pokrewne

Start
Drew Hayes [Super Powereds 02 Super Powereds Year 2 (epub) i
Beth Harbison [Shoe Addict 02 Secrets of a Shoe Addict (epub)
Cate Masters [Blue Moon 02] A Wedding at the Blue Moon Cafe
C C Wood [Bitten 02] Once Bitten, Twice Shy (epub) i
C J Barry [Body 02] Body Thief (epub)
Anthony Burgess Enderby 02 Outside Enderby
Amanda Mackey [Instinctual 02 Instinctual 2 (epub)
Cygnet 02 The Cygnet And Th McKillip, Patricia
B L Mooney [Striving 02] Striving for Perfection (epub)
C J Corbin [Destiny 02] Revealing Destiny (epub)

[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.I think it was a way of assuaging her guilt.Really, for the guilt-assuaging to work, she should have bought my mother the Volkswagen rather than treat herself, though obviously she would then have had to have the steering wheel and gears and brakes adapted.Alison made no attempt to get out of her car, though she knew that I could see her.Once in a while, and purely for my benefit, she gave the universal sign for wanking.It was an odd situation to be in.I was watching a house for signs of Jimbo and RonnyCrabs while Alison was watching me.For the first time in my life I was both stalker and stalkee.The house in Marston Court was an end of terrace.The gable wall, which faced where I was parked, was completely covered in a mural commemorating and celebrating soldiers who had fought and died during the Battle of the Somme.Sometimes the art world is astonished when a seemingly worthless painting goes in for cleaning and the experts discover a work by an Old Master hidden beneath the first layer of paint, and something similar was true of this First World War scene, except it wasn’t terrifically well hidden and was of no value.Thanks to the quality of the paint, or perhaps the degree of absorption of the brickwork, it was still possible to make out the original mural, which celebrated the Red Hand Commandos and their murderous exploits during the Troubles.It crossed my mind that Jimmy and RonnyCrabs, being painters and decorators, might have created either one or possibly both of these murals themselves, which in turn suggested that they might once have supported or even been members of a terrorist organisation.Since peace had broken out, terrorists of a Republican leaning had laid down their arms and embraced the political process; freedom fighters from the Loyalist side had pretty much held on to their guns and started (or more usually continued) to deal in coke.The only thing that had really changed was the geographical boundaries within or without which it was con sidered safe for them to deal.As borders had come down all across Europe, so they had across Northern Ireland.The peace dividend for Republicans was power-sharing; for Loyalists it was enlarging their market.I smiled happily.One glance at an historical mural and I had defined Jimbo and RonnyCrabs.Their pedigree, or lack of.I had been good at this crime-busting right from the start, but with experience, I was definitely getting better.There was a tap on my window.Alison smiled in.I rolled it down and said, ‘What?’‘I was thinking.’‘Always a bad—’‘You have a shop to run, and you could be here for hours.’‘Jeff’s perfectly—’‘You think?’‘What’s your point?’‘I’m off for the rest of the day; nothing to do but grow a baby.I could hang around here and wait for them to arrive and take their pictures, or if you want I can sketch them.’‘Sketch them.You think they’re going to pose? Anyway, I’ve seen your stuff.’‘What’s that supposed to mean?’‘Well, Billy Randall would want to be able to recognise them.If I showed him your version of them he’d think I was mental.’‘You are mental.’‘Or on drugs.’‘You are—’‘You know what I mean.Your stuff isn’t exactly realistic.It’s surreal.’‘You don’t know your artistic arse from your artistic elbow; stick to what you know, Mystery Man.And anyway, I can do normal.I can do any style.’I looked at her.She raised an eyebrow.I had a camera on the passenger seat.It had the appropriate lenses for long-range work.I missed my shop and I didn’t fully trust Jeff.Was there any harm, really, in letting a pregnant woman hang around outside the home of two drug-dealing ex-terrorists trying to surreptitiously take their photographs? Hardly any.There was only a negligible chance of her being beaten up.Besides, she was volunteering not because she wanted to steal the case from me but because she was trying to win her way back into my affections so that I would look after her and her unborn child.Also I’m manually illiterate and usually I manage to screw up even foolproof cameras.And she was doing it for free.There was no downside.But I wasn’t just going to cave in.‘What if you break the camera?’‘I won’t.’‘You promise to wear the strap?’‘Even though I’ll be in my car, yes.’‘It’s an expensive camera.If there’s even a scratch on it, you’ll have to buy me a new one.’‘Okay.’‘It means if they don’t arrive until tonight, you’ll have to stay until you get them.’‘That’s not a problem.’‘What if you need to pee?’‘I’ll hold on.’‘I thought if you’re pregnant you have to pee all the time.’‘That’s not till I’m all fat and horrible.’I raised an eyebrow.‘You’re funny,’ she said.‘So’s your face,’ I said.I stopped on the way home to let Mother out before continuing on to the shop.I checked the till to make sure Jeff wasn’t stealing before letting him go.I sat in my chair and put my feet up on the counter and opened a Twix.I had decided, in the absence of customers, to treat myself to a leisurely reread of one of Ross MacDonald’s non Lew Archer novels, The Ferguson Affair, but had barely gotten past page one when the door opened and Alison came in, beaming.It wasn’t much more than forty-five minutes since I’d left her.‘Fed up or beaten up?’ I asked.‘Ta-da!’She placed the camera on the counter and pushed it across, with the digital screen facing me.I took my time placing the bookmark properly and then set the book, which was a long out-of-print Knopf edition, back under the desk.I sighed.I positioned the camera so that I had the best view of Alison’s picture.It showed two young men in T-shirts and track bottoms, posing with their arms folded before the First World War mural.‘That’s Jimbo,’ said Alison, pointing at the one on her left, ‘and that’s—’‘I get it.’‘Real name Ronny Clegg.They were extremely co-operative.’‘Did you promise them sexual favours?’‘Yes.’ I kept my eyes on the picture, though inside something churned.‘They arrived home just after you left.I knocked on the door and told them I was taking photographs for a book on Belfast’s murals and could I take the one on the side of their house, and by the way did they happen to know who painted it? Couldn’t have been more helpful.They invited me in, made me a cup of tea.’She reached across and pushed a button.A different photo appeared, this time of them sitting on a sofa, with cups in their hands, grinning inanely.It was a wide-angle shot.The room looked cramped and cluttered.A Jack Russell dog stood off to one side, ears erect.My nose crinkled, ready to sneeze.There was a computer sitting on a desk to their right.‘Make yourself at home, why don’t you?’‘I did.I liked them.They’re into dope and comics.’ Alison beamed.‘What?’‘They let me flick through their collection [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]