Thursday, May 3, 2012

Dead Rite chapter 107.02

Oh.” White sat back, dismayed. Waterman and De Ville. If he had a pound for every time their names came up connected to an odd disturbance in the town he'd have enough to take Beryl for a slap-up dinner at the Taj Mahal. The restaurant on Cheap Street, not the actual place in India. Not that he could ever pin anything illegal on them. “Has this got anything to do with Julie Turling?”

Never heard of her. Look, can I go? I've not had my dinner yet. Actually, I've not had owt to eat in twenty-two years by all accounts.”

Not yet. We can sent out for something if you like. What do you want?”

A bag of chips?” Percival frowned. “No, actually I'd like a risotto.”

You what?” White curled his lip. “It's three o'clock in the morning. We can do you a cheese butty.”


No.” White stood and went to the door. There was a duty constable standing outside and he racked his brains to think of the man's name. “Collins? Rustle up a cheese sandwich for our guest, would you? A two cups of tea? Good man.”

He returned to his seat. “Lets get back to your story.”

It isn't a story. It's the truth.” Percival leaned forward. “Look, I'm sorry I made a scene at May's house but honestly, the old bag wouldn't let me see her.”

White glanced down at the report sheet. “Mr Trubshaw, that was Mary McKinty, single mother of Sam Trub...Dear lord.”

What? Were you about to say I've got a son?”

White looked up. “What? No. Yes, I mean, but he's missing. I spent all day looking for young Sam Trubshaw and his friend.”

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