Read Online Angel Confidential by Mike Ripley - Free Book Online Page B

know if you’re open for business.’
    â€˜What sort of business?’
    â€˜Detective business, she says. Says she knows ya as well.’
    â€˜Get a life, Dod, I’m trying to make the tea.’
    â€˜Get a secretary, then. She’s on her way up.’
    I didn’t know what to expect. Knowing Dod, it could have been someone from the local council, a Jehovah’s Witness or a double-glazing salesman. It turned out to be a middle-aged black woman weighed down with a carrier bag of groceries in each hand.
    She stopped on the top stair to get her breath, looked at me, then into Albert’s office, then back at me and the teapot I was holding in my right hand.
    â€˜Jus’ what I need, mister. The cup that cheers but does not inebriate.’
    I looked down at the teapot and realised why I didn’t like tea.
    I motioned her into Albert’s office and returned her smile.
    â€˜Sugar?’
    I found her a chair and she parked her shopping and unbuttoned her raincoat.
    â€˜Just two,’ she said. Then, to make sure, ‘Sugars. If you please.’
    I was still holding the teapot.
    â€˜Yeah, right. I’ll ... er ... get a cup,’ I said decisively.
    I sloshed a mugful for Dod and sneaked by the office door to take it down the stairs to him.
    â€˜Who the hell is that?’ I whispered.
    â€˜A customer. That’s what she said,’ shrugged Dod.
    â€˜What does she want?’
    â€˜How should I know? You’re in charge here.’
    â€˜No, I bleedin’ ain’t.’
    â€˜Well you’re paying the bills.’
    â€˜Yeah, well, we’ll talk about that later.’
    I crept back upstairs and into Veronica’s kitchen. She only seemed to have two mugs, so I decided that family had better hold back.
    â€˜Here you are, Mrs ...’ I said limply. ‘The cup that ... whatever.’
    â€˜You could do with a cleaner here, you know,’ she said, clocking the office shambles.
    â€˜We had a break-in yesterday,’ I offered lamely.
    â€˜Know who did it?’ she came back like a whip.
    â€˜No,’ I said, knowing I’d regret it.
    â€˜Huh. Ain’t much of a detective then. In fact, I never knew you was a detective at all. When I asked around, I was told to come here and see a man called Albert. Not you.’
    In a room of two people, that made two of us.
    I sat down opposite her in Albert’s chair. There was nothing on the desk except for some masonry hammer dents. I put my forearms on the desk top and linked my fingers, trying to hide the worst of them.
    â€˜Do you know me, Mrs ... er ... ?’
    â€˜Delacourt. Mrs Delacourt. And I can’t rightly say we’re on sociable terms.’ .
    She looked down into her mug of tea as if I’d poisoned her.
    â€˜But you know my son.’
    I sat back rapidly to put more distance between me and the hand holding the steaming tea.
    â€˜Er ... about 16, wears a Raiders bomber jacket ... ?’
    Probably has a broken nose and eight brothers who do weights.
    â€˜No, that’s not my Crimson.’
    â€˜Crimson?’
    â€˜Crimson Delacourt.’ Her expression said she was having doubts about people like me being released into the community.
    â€˜The bike rider?’
    â€˜That’s him. Worked for a motorcycle dispatch company, like you used to. We used your cab once to do my Christmas shopping, remember?’
    â€˜Sure,’ I sighed with relief. ‘Yeah, Crimson. Good guy. Nifty rider. One of the best. Just never knew his last name.’
    I bit my tongue. What a thing to say to somebody’s mother.
    â€˜Well, we got us a problem with Crimson. She nodded wisely.
    We?
    â€˜I haven’t seen him for a few months, Mrs Delacourt, and I don’t work the dispatch any more.’
    â€˜I suppose that was just a cover, eh?’
    â€˜I’m sorry ... ?’
    â€˜Undercover, for the detective work. Were you working a case? Isn’t