Read Online Between the Devlin and the Deep Blue Seas by Robert G. Barrett - Free Book Online

rough and dirty as the people who owned it. There was a pair of rusty roof-racks on top and various environmental stickers on the windows: Save the Whales, Solar Not Nuclear, Stop Japanese Drift Netting. Oh well, mused Norton, the hippies might stink, but at least their hearts are in the right place. He got in the old Ford and headed for Bondi.
    Seeing as he had almost insulted Warren with that horrible mince the night before, Les thought it might be an idea if he got his act together and cooked something a bit decent that night. So he bought a comer cut of topside. He also thought it might be an idea if he stopped being so moody and quit sulking or Warren might start to smell a rat. He’d never told Warren about Blue Seas and he sure as hell didn’t want to bring it up now or what was on his mind.
    While the roast was cooking and Norton was fartarsing around the house he reflected on the day; thinking about it only made the situation worse. Blue Seas was a bigger dog than he had ever imagined — he should have checked it out more thoroughly when he bought it. His tenants or what he’d seen of them so far, were a soapy-looking lot to say the least. And now it looked like there’d been a murder on the premises. So what to do about that? Call the police? Yeah, they’d probably try and pin the thing on him, knowing his record. Flat five would just have to go on hold for the time being. The only bright spot of the day, if you could call it that, was getting the old caretaker out so smoothly. And even that had cost him two hundred bucks. Fuck. What a schemozzle.
    But if anything was wrong that night Warren would never have known. The roast beef was the grouse and Les bubbled away, saying he’d spent the day with some mates playing cards and a bit of snooker and drinking mineral water. Yes, Warren was right, it had been withdrawals Leshad been going through the night before. There was no escaping the brilliant, young advertising executive’s amazing powers of perception. Warren rubbed it in and said he’d never felt better in his life and added quite confidently that he didn’t care if he never had another drink in his life. Les added that he only wished he had Warren’s iron backbone and phenomenal resilience. They watched a video Warren had brought home and were both in bed around midnight.
    Thursday was pretty much like the day before when Les rose at his usual time; the southerly was still keeping the temperature down but it didn’t seem as cloudy. Again he had another run in Centennial Park and again when he got home Warren had left for the office early. The run, although hard, was enjoyable almost relaxing even and physically Les felt on top of the world after he got cleaned up. He was beginning to come to grips with the situation at Blue Seas. Due to a certain amount of bad luck and no doubt his own negligence, he was stuck with an albatross around his neck. But somehow he’d work that out. He’d have to. He was going to lose money — there was no doubt about that — but no matter what, it wasn’t going to break him. The scene in flat five was a different kettle of fish, however, and a nasty one. He decided it might be best if he made a phone call straight after breakfast, as soon as Isaac Steinberg and Marvin Ringblum opened for business.
    â€˜Hello? Steinberg and Ringblum Real Estate,’ said a polite voice.
    â€˜Yes, it’s Mr Norton, the owner of Blue Seas Apartments. I’d like to speak to Mr Ringblum, please.’
    â€˜Mr Ringblum’s not in at the moment.’
    â€˜Mr Steinberg then.’
    â€˜Mr Steinberg’s just popped out for a moment. Can I take a message?’
    â€˜Yes. Tell him Mr Olsen’s gone and I’ll be doing the caretaking and maintenance from now on.’
    â€˜All right, Mr Norton.’
    â€˜And tell him the tenant’s moved out of flat five, and not to bother re-letting it at the moment as I