Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Dead Rite chapter 80.02

“Truth be told, sir, I like it too, but I like the golden oldies better.”

“Golden oldies? What? Ella Fitzgerald and Frank Sinatra?”

“Not that old, sir. I was thinking more along the lines of Prodigy and Blur”

White looked at him and shook his head. “Never heard of them.”

“After your time I suppose, Daddy-O.” Peters grinned and looked out of the side window. “Looks like the fun fairs packing up.”

“That's odd. They haven't even been here the whole week.”

“The fire took the heart out of it. I tried taking the misses but the whole place stinks.”


“That after-fire smell, sir. Burnt timber and acrid plastic Gets in your throat, it does, and once you combine it with the sickly-sweet smell of candyfloss and toffee apples it's enough to make you hurl your dinner across the waltzers. After that she just wanted to go home.”

“Can't say I'm surprised. What was the outcome of the fire?”

“Accidental. The bloke who owned the van admitted to smoking in bed. He was lucky to get out of his caravan before the whole thing went up. Nobody was hurt and no charges were made. They'd even got the fire out before the the fire brigade arrived so a good result all round from what could have been a very nasty incident.” He turned to face the front again as the fairground field fell behind. “They lost so much custom they were handing out free tickets, which was lucky for us.”

“You're not supposed to accept free gifts from members of the public, sergeant. It could be construed as a bribe.”

It was Janet that got them, sir, not me. They were giving them away in town, trying to drum up trade after the fire closed it down.”

“Did it work?”

Peters pursed his lips. “Not really. It was like walking around a zoo in the rain. You felt like they were making a real effort to smile but didn't want to.”

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