crystallised on his wrinkled face. ‘You’re Eddie Greene?’
‘The very same, and at your service. Now why don’t you start downloading on the late Mrs Porson?’
He sat in silence, the lines on his forehead fighting the emotion. The voice, when it came, was quiet. ‘And this is off the record?’
‘Bollocks to the record!’ I spun my notepad off the desk.
‘I don’t know. There’s so much at stake.’
‘Yeah, my hundred per cent success rate to start with.’
He stared at Mike Well’s careworn card. ‘You really are Eddie Greene? The detective Hel– Mrs Porson hired.’
‘She told you, then?’
‘Yes. I begged her not to do it.’
His eyes darted to the side as he spoke. A giveaway, even for a politician.
I sat back and softened my tone. ‘She hired me anyway. And at the moment I’m the only guy you can trust. I know that’s like a major bummer for you. Karma’s not all sweet, yeah? But you want to know why you should trust me?’
He nodded, resigned.
‘Because we’re the only chumps in the frame for this. And we both know we didn’t do it.’
Clegg’s eyes seemed to regain focus. ‘You mentioned Jimmy Cartwright before. How’s he involved?’
The Mayor showed himself to be a good switch hitter.
I bit my lip. ‘I can’t tell you that.’
‘Why not?’
‘Well, truth to tell, I haven’t figured that part out yet. But trust me, he don’t just got one log floating in this sewer. It’s a whole rotting raft.’
Clegg closed his eyes and stayed motionless for several seconds while I waited. Then he slowly opened them.
‘I’m sorry, Mr Greene, I can’t help you.’ He tried a benevolent smile, as close to an apology as he might get. ‘I think we should both let the police handle it.’
‘The police? You mean Jimmy’s reserve team?’
What sounded almost like a laugh popped out from Clegg. ‘Give me some credit. You don’t think I know?’
‘Sure you do, Mayor. But I don’t see you doing much about it.’
‘Please. Go home and let my police deal with it. You talk about trust … why don’t you trust me. There’s nothing you can do. This is out of your league.’ Clegg picked up the phoney calling card and handed it back to me. ‘Take this. You never know when you might need it.’
I re-pocketed Mike’s card and stood to go. Then I took out one of my own and flicked it onto his desk.
‘When you need a plan “B”,’ I said, ‘call me.’
~
I left the Town Hall by the side entrance and gave the near and far horizons a good once over. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, and everybody appeared to be going about their business as usual. I doubled back to the rear of the building, heading for the steps down to the river by the Old Bridge. On the top step I sat and made the call.
She answered on the third ring. ‘Hello. Kate Connolly.’ The buttery tones simply oozed through the phone.
‘Is that Moss, Campbell, Schiffer and McPherson?’
She paused. I could hear the smile. ‘Maybe. Is that “Nice-Guy-But-No-Show” Eddie?’
‘Yeah. Get over it.’
‘Like you did, hey.’
Ouch! From the recoil I lifted my head and did a quick three sixty; all quiet on the Weighton front.
I tried to picture Kate sat in the café on her own. ‘How long did you wait?’
‘Long enough, hot shot.’
‘Doesn’t mean we’re even.’
‘Really? What will that take?’
‘Dunno. I’ll think of something.’
She made a puffing noise like she didn’t believe me.
I took another long look around. I’m not saying I was paranoid or anything, but you can’t be too careful.
‘Ed?’
‘Yup?’
‘Remember cherry blossoms in the market square?’
‘You thought it was confetti in my hair.’
I heard her laugh and almost forgot about everything else.
‘Listen,’ I said, my voice quieter. ‘I’m sorry about yesterday. Would you believe me if I said I was abducted by hoodlums?’
‘Not aliens, then?’
‘Hard to tell.’ Friend Tommy was clearly
‘The very same, and at your service. Now why don’t you start downloading on the late Mrs Porson?’
He sat in silence, the lines on his forehead fighting the emotion. The voice, when it came, was quiet. ‘And this is off the record?’
‘Bollocks to the record!’ I spun my notepad off the desk.
‘I don’t know. There’s so much at stake.’
‘Yeah, my hundred per cent success rate to start with.’
He stared at Mike Well’s careworn card. ‘You really are Eddie Greene? The detective Hel– Mrs Porson hired.’
‘She told you, then?’
‘Yes. I begged her not to do it.’
His eyes darted to the side as he spoke. A giveaway, even for a politician.
I sat back and softened my tone. ‘She hired me anyway. And at the moment I’m the only guy you can trust. I know that’s like a major bummer for you. Karma’s not all sweet, yeah? But you want to know why you should trust me?’
He nodded, resigned.
‘Because we’re the only chumps in the frame for this. And we both know we didn’t do it.’
Clegg’s eyes seemed to regain focus. ‘You mentioned Jimmy Cartwright before. How’s he involved?’
The Mayor showed himself to be a good switch hitter.
I bit my lip. ‘I can’t tell you that.’
‘Why not?’
‘Well, truth to tell, I haven’t figured that part out yet. But trust me, he don’t just got one log floating in this sewer. It’s a whole rotting raft.’
Clegg closed his eyes and stayed motionless for several seconds while I waited. Then he slowly opened them.
‘I’m sorry, Mr Greene, I can’t help you.’ He tried a benevolent smile, as close to an apology as he might get. ‘I think we should both let the police handle it.’
‘The police? You mean Jimmy’s reserve team?’
What sounded almost like a laugh popped out from Clegg. ‘Give me some credit. You don’t think I know?’
‘Sure you do, Mayor. But I don’t see you doing much about it.’
‘Please. Go home and let my police deal with it. You talk about trust … why don’t you trust me. There’s nothing you can do. This is out of your league.’ Clegg picked up the phoney calling card and handed it back to me. ‘Take this. You never know when you might need it.’
I re-pocketed Mike’s card and stood to go. Then I took out one of my own and flicked it onto his desk.
‘When you need a plan “B”,’ I said, ‘call me.’
~
I left the Town Hall by the side entrance and gave the near and far horizons a good once over. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, and everybody appeared to be going about their business as usual. I doubled back to the rear of the building, heading for the steps down to the river by the Old Bridge. On the top step I sat and made the call.
She answered on the third ring. ‘Hello. Kate Connolly.’ The buttery tones simply oozed through the phone.
‘Is that Moss, Campbell, Schiffer and McPherson?’
She paused. I could hear the smile. ‘Maybe. Is that “Nice-Guy-But-No-Show” Eddie?’
‘Yeah. Get over it.’
‘Like you did, hey.’
Ouch! From the recoil I lifted my head and did a quick three sixty; all quiet on the Weighton front.
I tried to picture Kate sat in the café on her own. ‘How long did you wait?’
‘Long enough, hot shot.’
‘Doesn’t mean we’re even.’
‘Really? What will that take?’
‘Dunno. I’ll think of something.’
She made a puffing noise like she didn’t believe me.
I took another long look around. I’m not saying I was paranoid or anything, but you can’t be too careful.
‘Ed?’
‘Yup?’
‘Remember cherry blossoms in the market square?’
‘You thought it was confetti in my hair.’
I heard her laugh and almost forgot about everything else.
‘Listen,’ I said, my voice quieter. ‘I’m sorry about yesterday. Would you believe me if I said I was abducted by hoodlums?’
‘Not aliens, then?’
‘Hard to tell.’ Friend Tommy was clearly
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