Read Online Killer in the Shade by Piers Marlowe - Free Book Online
Authors: Piers Marlowe
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observed.
âPeelâs leaving,â the ex-Yard man said as he dropped down on the seat beside Rollo and stretched his legs. âHere he comes.â
The figure with a face half covered with hair and hippie-style dark glasses left the hotel and crossed to a blue Escort. Watching the man walk, Rollo had the impression that Humphrey Peel was trying to look younger than his age, but his mind wasnât concentrating on the manâs possible disguise. He was turning over the situation created when it was discovered that a dead manâs fingerprint had been found at the scene of a murder. That and the implications for the girl he loved.
The taxi followed the Escort south and then west.
âWhere the devil is he making for?â Rollo asked his frowning companion.
âIâm not sure, but weâll soon be in the Paddington area,â said Moore.
Five minutes later he said, âDamn me â Little Venice. Heâs making for Little Venice.â
Rollo had heard of that section of the Grand Union Canal that had a colony of houseboats, but he had never been to the district. What if Carol were kept prisoner on one of them? Even as the question took shape in his mind he asked himself why should she be a prisoner? Could it be that she knew something that spelled danger for the hippie-looking man driving the blue Escort? He was suddenly anxious to confront Peel and make the man talk. He glanced sideways and saw that Moore was watching him.
âDonât get in a sweat, Mr Hackley,â advised the man with a hard grey gaze. âKeep your cool. So far as I know Peel isnât a boat lover.â
It was not far from the canal thatthe taxi stopped when the blue Escort was seen parked at the kerb outside a warehouse, set back from the street by a low wall with open gates. The place looked deserted. Some of the grime-covered windows were broken and there was a cement way leading to another building, as derelict and deserted-looking as the first, which gave on to the canal. Between this building and another brick wall, Rollo caught a glimpse of a boat with washing hanging on a line. The boat was moored on the far side of the canal.
Rollo paid off the taxi, and as it turned back the way they had come Moore said, âItâll be a problem getting another in this neighbourhood.â
âWe may not want one,â Rollo told him. âWe could make sure this doesnât start.â
He pointed to the Escort, but Moore shook his head. âDick wouldnât like me to break an agency rule â never to break the law.â He grinned sardonically. âBesides, we may want to borrow it, as the car thieves say in court. Come on. FollowingPeel canât be called trespassing. The place is empty.â
As there was no ready place of entry to the building on the road, they followed the littered cement apron to the second overlooking the canal. When they turned an angle of the wall they saw an open door.
âHeâs making it almost too damned easy. I donât like it,â Moore grunted. âHe could have spotted our taxi tailing him.â He broke off, rubbing his chin. âIâll go first. You keep back, sort of cover me.â
In this fashion they entered through the open door and moved towards a gloomy area of dust and dirt on the canal side of the building. The windows were so covered with grime it was impossible to see clearly the old crates and barrels left in a place where apparently produce brought in canal barges had formerly been stored.
Moore produced his lighter, and was examining a door at the far end. He moved a hinged bar and something metallic clattered to the stone floor. Rollo heard the detectiveâs mutteredimprecation as he stooped and picked up the open padlock. Before he could straighten the door opened. It must have been well-oiled, for its hinges did not squeak. Too late, Moore tried to come upright and move away at the same time.
He fell when
âPeelâs leaving,â the ex-Yard man said as he dropped down on the seat beside Rollo and stretched his legs. âHere he comes.â
The figure with a face half covered with hair and hippie-style dark glasses left the hotel and crossed to a blue Escort. Watching the man walk, Rollo had the impression that Humphrey Peel was trying to look younger than his age, but his mind wasnât concentrating on the manâs possible disguise. He was turning over the situation created when it was discovered that a dead manâs fingerprint had been found at the scene of a murder. That and the implications for the girl he loved.
The taxi followed the Escort south and then west.
âWhere the devil is he making for?â Rollo asked his frowning companion.
âIâm not sure, but weâll soon be in the Paddington area,â said Moore.
Five minutes later he said, âDamn me â Little Venice. Heâs making for Little Venice.â
Rollo had heard of that section of the Grand Union Canal that had a colony of houseboats, but he had never been to the district. What if Carol were kept prisoner on one of them? Even as the question took shape in his mind he asked himself why should she be a prisoner? Could it be that she knew something that spelled danger for the hippie-looking man driving the blue Escort? He was suddenly anxious to confront Peel and make the man talk. He glanced sideways and saw that Moore was watching him.
âDonât get in a sweat, Mr Hackley,â advised the man with a hard grey gaze. âKeep your cool. So far as I know Peel isnât a boat lover.â
It was not far from the canal thatthe taxi stopped when the blue Escort was seen parked at the kerb outside a warehouse, set back from the street by a low wall with open gates. The place looked deserted. Some of the grime-covered windows were broken and there was a cement way leading to another building, as derelict and deserted-looking as the first, which gave on to the canal. Between this building and another brick wall, Rollo caught a glimpse of a boat with washing hanging on a line. The boat was moored on the far side of the canal.
Rollo paid off the taxi, and as it turned back the way they had come Moore said, âItâll be a problem getting another in this neighbourhood.â
âWe may not want one,â Rollo told him. âWe could make sure this doesnât start.â
He pointed to the Escort, but Moore shook his head. âDick wouldnât like me to break an agency rule â never to break the law.â He grinned sardonically. âBesides, we may want to borrow it, as the car thieves say in court. Come on. FollowingPeel canât be called trespassing. The place is empty.â
As there was no ready place of entry to the building on the road, they followed the littered cement apron to the second overlooking the canal. When they turned an angle of the wall they saw an open door.
âHeâs making it almost too damned easy. I donât like it,â Moore grunted. âHe could have spotted our taxi tailing him.â He broke off, rubbing his chin. âIâll go first. You keep back, sort of cover me.â
In this fashion they entered through the open door and moved towards a gloomy area of dust and dirt on the canal side of the building. The windows were so covered with grime it was impossible to see clearly the old crates and barrels left in a place where apparently produce brought in canal barges had formerly been stored.
Moore produced his lighter, and was examining a door at the far end. He moved a hinged bar and something metallic clattered to the stone floor. Rollo heard the detectiveâs mutteredimprecation as he stooped and picked up the open padlock. Before he could straighten the door opened. It must have been well-oiled, for its hinges did not squeak. Too late, Moore tried to come upright and move away at the same time.
He fell when
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