The Man Who Couldn't Lose

Read Online The Man Who Couldn't Lose by Roger Silverwood - Free Book Online Page A

Book: The Man Who Couldn't Lose by Roger Silverwood Read Free Book Online
Authors: Roger Silverwood
Ads: Link
he’s got hiccups and makes a noise to put him off every time he goes for a black. Now there’s a twenty on it, so it’s serious. Bozo asks him to be quiet … time after time. At least six times. The punter says he ain’t doing nothing. Bozo bawls him out. The punter gets rattled and belts him one. Bozo pushes him away. He falls over a bar stool and hits his head on a set of wheels they use for moving barrels and crates. He’s rushed to hospital and dies next day. Bozo gets tried for manslaughter. He gets twelve years. But he’s out in four because he behaves himself. When he comes out of prison, nobody would look at him. He couldn’t get a job anywhere. So the boss gives him this new name, Bozo, and sets him on here to help me. He’s only a caretaker really, but the boss reckoned it would make him feel good if we called him “the assistant manager”. That’s all right by me. He does all the dirty jobs that I used to do. He keeps the place clean and tidy, and the washrooms straight. They’re always clean and there’s always paper in the lavs, soap in the dispenser and paper towels in the box. He does a good job for me. He’s no trouble.’
    Angel stifled a smile. That wasn’t how he remembered the Ben Johnson case, but he let it go.
    â€˜Did you pick Mr Gumme up at his home, then?’
    â€˜Yeah. A few minutes past eight, it would be. He was ready waiting for me. Ingrid wasn’t pleased about it. Yap, yap, yap. But it had nothing to do with me. The boss wanted to go. That’s all I needed to know. I got him there in no time. It’s only a mile, I guess. I got his chair out. He said to leave him there and go. Pick him up at home in the morning at nine o’clock. I wheeled him … well, no, he pulled away from me. He wheeled himself up to the reception desk. I watched him. He waved me away … impatient, like. I came back. Put the car in the garage, as quiet as I could. Didn’t want to disturb Ingrid … Mrs Gumme. Walked here. Went back to the snooker hall, into the print shop, finished off Mr Wong’s new menus. Helped Bozo to finish off the evening, lock up, banked the money in the night safe and went home.’
    â€˜At The Feathers, did you see who he was going to meet?’
    Makepiece said, ‘No. And it’s maybe a good job too.’
    Angel frowned. ‘Why do you say that?’
    Makepiece breathed out a length of air and shook his head at the same time.
    â€˜It was a contract job, wasn’t it? Whoever shot the boss was a professional.’
    Angel noticed Makepiece’s left hand shaking very slightly.
    â€˜They don’t leave witnesses,’ he continued. ‘If I had seen him, and he knew I’d seen him, I would be dead now.’
    Angel ran the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip.
    Makepiece’s eyes suddenly lit up.
    â€˜Hey. I just thought. Maybe the boss has saved my life. Maybe he didn’t want me to see whoever he was going to meet for that very reason!’
    He smiled as he thought more about it.
    Angel frowned. He wasn’t sure the reasoning was good logic.
    â€˜Who would want to kill Mr Gumme? You said they might be back? Who did you mean? Someone from the old days? Mrs Gumme thought that it could have been someone from the old days. Who was she referring to?’
    Makepiece’s face assumed a frightened rabbit look. He shrugged and looked away.
    â€˜I dunno, do I?’
    â€˜You’ve known him a long time. Twenty years? Thirty years?’
    â€˜More than thirty.’
    Makepiece shrugged again. He took his hat off, ran his hand over the bald top and put it back on again.
    â€˜All right. The boss wasn’t always quite so legit,’ he said, licking his lips. ‘You can’t book a man for jobs after he’s dead, can you, Inspector?’ he added.
    â€˜No,’ Angel said.
    â€˜Well, the boss … must be twelve years or more ago

Similar Books

Fury

Salman Rushdie

Self's punishment

Bernhard Schlink

Burned Hearts

Calista Fox

Cold Ennaline

RJ Astruc

Dangerous Talents

Frankie Robertson