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

… used to run a little girlie shop over the bookies next door, until a man called Spitzer, Alexander Spitzer, came on the scene. He was a bad lot from Leeds way. You may have heard of him.’
    â€˜No,’ Angel lied.
    â€˜Don’t know what happened to him. Anyway, Spitzer wanted in on it, make it bigger and bring some foreign girls in. The boss was talked into it, I reckon. Anyway, apparently he agreed and Coulson, that’s one of Spitzer’s boys, brought four girls in from somewhere foreign … I don’t know where. They jointly bought the old laundry next door, knocked a wall through and began setting it up. Then I heard Myra, his first wife, found out and went ballistic. Also, I think the boss saw his money going out, and not coming back in so soon. Now, I know the boss. He don’t like that sort of arrangement, so he wasn’t happy. He never really liked Spitzer anyway. He said that he was a bit too flash; also he found out that unbeknown to him, the whole idea was wrapped up in a heavy drugs deal. Spitzer’s idea was that the girls could be on their backs at night making money, and in the daytime leaning over factory and school gates and wherever, flogging H. That was going to be great for him at twenty-five quid a throw. And the girls were to get a tenner out of every wrap, Inspector Angel. Think of that! A tenner. Of course, they were up for it. When the boss found out that Spitzer and Coulson was planning this move on the side, he wanted out. He didn’t want any truck with them thereafter either. He said he’d rather die than share divs with them.’
    â€˜So you think that Spitzer and Coulson might be responsible for Joshua Gumme’s murder?’
    Makepiece’s eyes slid from left to right, then back again. ‘No. I never said that, Inspector. I never said nothin’ like that.’
    Angel pursed his lips.
    â€˜OK,’ he said knowingly. ‘Did Mr Gumme have a gun?’
    â€˜I once saw a piece in a shoulder holster. I didn’t like that. It was ages ago.’
    Angel nodded. He thought as much.
    â€˜He was wearing it … about the time of this Spitzer business. I haven’t seen it for years.’
    â€˜Do you know what make it was?’
    â€˜No. Don’t do guns, Inspector.’
    Angel wrinkled his nose
    â€˜Spitzer always had a piece,’ Makepiece added. ‘He should have worn a bigger jacket.’
    Angel nodded, then said: ‘What were you doing when this was going on?’
    â€˜I was the caretaker here.’
    â€˜And chauffeur?’
    â€˜No. The boss used to drive hisself then. He drove all the time up to his illness.’
    â€˜So who do you think shot Mr Gumme?’
    Makepiece shook his head and showed the palm of his open hands.
    â€˜I don’t know. Lots of folk. The boss made a lot of enemies.’
    â€˜What enemies?’
    â€˜Well, you see, he didn’t intend to. It’s just that everything he touched turned to money. Nobody likes to be bested. He used to say that all his competitors were green with envy at the way he built up his business interests. His new house … the pool and everything. His new wife. The Bentley. His luck with the cards. He played cards with people and always won and they didn’t like it, and they sometimes wouldn’t pay up. He hated that. He always chased them down for the last penny.’
    â€˜They say he played two hundred games of pontoon on the trot and won every game.’
    Makepiece pursed his lips and leaned back. ‘That’s true. It was in here. At this very table. I was here. And he could have played four hundred games, aye, and more. He was just too tired to go on. His eyes gave out.’
    â€˜But he cheated, didn’t he?’
    â€˜No, sir,’ he said indignantly. ‘Not that you would call cheating. The judges checked everything out. I wouldn’t have called it cheating exactly. He just gave himself an