Rattling the Bones by Ann Granger Read Free Book Online

want to be a stickler for accuracy.
     
    ‘Hullo, love,’ Jerry returned my greeting.
     
    ‘Sorry to bother you,’ I said, ‘I thought I saw a friend of mine turn the corner into this street so I ran after him, but I don’t see him. Have you noticed anyone? He’s young and wears a white baseball cap and T-shirt.’
     
    They exchanged glances and shook their heads in unison.
     
    ‘Sorry, sweetheart,’ said Tom.
     
    ‘We’ve been working in there.’ Jerry nodded his curly head towards the house behind us. I looked. The front door was open and I could see through it that the whole place was untenanted and obviously undergoing renovation.
     
    ‘Three flats,’ went on Jerry. ‘Three hundred grand apiece at least. Wouldya believe it?’
     
    ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Well, at least they’ll be freshly done up.’
     
    ‘Yeah,’ said Tom. ‘New bathrooms, new kitchens. Don’t know about the wiring. You want to watch the wiring in these old places.’
     
    ‘Floorboards,’ said Jerry cryptically.
     
    ‘Yeah, floorboards, too,’ agreed his mate.
     
    We’d spent enough time on interior decorating. ‘Look,’ I said. ‘I know you’ve been busy and not paying attention to anything but work but are you sure you weren’t aware of anyone going past? Even if you didn’t see him exactly, you might have heard him or just sensed someone was there.’
     
    They shook their heads.
     
    ‘Sorry,’ Tom said.
     
    ‘Will one of us do?’ offered Jerry.
     
    I thanked him and said perhaps some other time. We parted the best of friends.
     
    I made my way back to home turf a prey to turbulent emotions like the heroine of the Victorian melodrama Ganesh liked to cast me as. I wanted to tear my hair, short though it is, and beat my breast. (I’m somewhat deficient in that department, too. I’d never get a job modelling those lace and wire confections designed to lift and separate.) All I could do was scowl at innocent passers-by. They quickened their step in alarm. Understandably people do sometimes find me strange.
     
    I had seen him, dammit! There’s nothing wrong with my eyesight. I don’t indulge in banned substances. I hadn’t been hallucinating. He’d been there and he’d seen me. I knew him and he knew me. Once again, he’d proved too quick and too clever for me. Before, this had only been about Edna. Now it was getting personal. This guy was running rings round me. It was a matter of honour. I will track you down, mate, I promised.You won’t make me look like a blundering idiot. I will prove to Ganesh that you exist as some sort of genuine threat to Edna.
     
    I called at the newsagent’s. On the way in I passed a man coming out and holding the early edition of the Evening Standard , but otherwise inside it was customer-free. Hari stood disconsolately by his till.
     
    ‘Ah, Francesca, my dear,’ he greeted me with the air of an undertaker. He leaned forwards and whispered, ‘Where are they?’
     
    ‘Who?’ I asked foolishly
     
    He swept a hand around his shop. ‘The customers! Where are they? Where are the children? School is out, isn’t it? Why are they not here buying drinks and snacks and trying to pinch things, eh?’
     
    ‘Half term?’ I suggested.
     
    He shook his head. ‘It is worse, Francesca. I have a rival.’ He pointed somewhere behind me and down the road. ‘Supermarket!’ he hissed. ‘Isn’t it enough for them they sell food and washing powder? No, they sell newspapers and magazines, crisps and Coke and chewing gum. They have a kiosk by the door. The children go there. They wander round the shop floor and it is easier to pinch things, isn’t it, from a supermarket?’
     
    Hari seemed to have a very poor opinion of local youth. I supposed it was based on experience.
     
    ‘Here I watch them!’ he added grimly.
     
    The lack of welcome the young customers had got here might have contributed to their taking their trade elsewhere but it wouldn’t be tactful to say so.