Read Online The Witches of Chiswick by Robert Rankin - Free Book Online

Will. It’s all my fault. I’ll get the painting.”
    “But …”
    “Leave this to me.” Will’s dad struggled to manhandle his chair towards the home screen and the air-conditioning duct above it.
    “What is he doing?” whispered Tim.
    “I haven’t the faintest idea,” whispered Will.
    Will’s dad huffed and puffed.
    “Out of the way.” The terrific figure, slung his weapon across his broad left shoulder, strode to the chair and snatched it from Will’s dad. He flung it down in front of the home screen, climbed onto it, reached up and took hold of the ceiling grille that covered the air-conditioning duct.
    With a speed, quite remarkable for one of his corpulence, Will’s dad swung a foot and kicked the chair out from beneath him.
    The terrific figure tumbled to the floor, bringing down the grille and a section of ceiling. Will’s dad flung himself on top of the fallen figure.
    “Sit on his legs woman,” he shouted. “Squash the smelly blighter. Hurry!”
    Will’s mum hurried and did as she was bid.
    “Phone for the DOCS, lad,” Will’s dad told Will. “Tell them we’ve captured a murderer.”
    Will’s mouth hung open.
    “I’ll do it,” said Tim, and he did.
    “Come in here, polluting the air and menacing my family,” cried Will’s dad, his beefy buttocks pressing down upon the back of the fallen figure. “I’ll teach you to mess with the Starlings.”
    The fallen figure struggled, but was quite unable to rise.
    “My dad,” whispered Will. “My dad did that.”
    “They’re on their way,” said Tim, replacing the receiver. “They’re just up two floors. They’re coming right down.”
    The fallen figure lurched, all but up-ending Will’s dad.
    “More weight needed,” called that man. “Tim, Will, help us keep this stinker down.”
    Will climbed onto his father’s shoulders. Tim sat down in Will’s mum’s lap.
    “Well, isn’t this cosy?” said Will’s mum. “Like one big happy family. That’s another thing I like about living in these times. Although the supper is growing cold and I’m—”
    And through the doorway came the gallant lads and token ladette of the DOCS, weapons at the ready and looks of some surprise upon their faces, faces which they now took to fanning.
    “The smell is him.” Will’s dad bounced up and down, eliciting moans from the foul-smelling figure beneath. “The murderer, we have him here.”
    “Let him up,” said Chief Inspector Sam Maggott. “We’ll take him in for questioning.”
    “Better just to pass sentence here,” said Officer John.
    “Rather too many unanswered questions,” said Sam. “I’d like to find out more about this unfragrant character before we remove him permanently from society.”
    “He’s still frisky.” Will’s dad came near to another upending. “Shooting him in the head while we’re still sitting on him would probably be for the best.”
    “I’ll do things my way, if you don’t mind,” said Sam. “I
am
the law, you know.”
    “Quite so, sir,” said Will’s dad. “So we should let him up, should we? He’s all covered in guns. One or two quite uncomfortable beneath my behind, as it happens.”
    “Let him up,” said Sam. “We have him covered.”
    And Sam’s team most definitely did. They all had their guns out and were pointing them mostly in the right direction.
    “As you wish,” said Will’s dad. “Everybody up.”
     
    And he did try. And so did Will’s mum.
    “I’m a bit stuck,” she said. “Could someone give me a hand?”
    “I’m at a bit of a disadvantage too,” said Will’s dad. “Can’t seem to ease myself up from this position.”
    “Help them up,” Sam told his team.
    Sam’s team holstered their weapons and set to the task of dragging Will’s parents into the vertical plane.
    “Thanks very much,” said Will’s dad. “This has all been most exciting.”
    “Aaaagh!” went the foul-smelling fallen figure, leaping now to his feet.
    “That’s quite enough of