A Fistful of Knuckles by Tom Graham Read Free Book Online

but I’d tell you.’
    ‘Aye, I think you would at that,’ said Gene, nodding to himself. ‘One more thing before we adjourn for scones and tea. We found a bullet in Denzil’s gob, unfired, shoved down after he died. What’s that all about?’
    ‘A sign,’ said Stella. ‘No, not a sign … more like a rebuke.’
    ‘A rebuke?’
    ‘Them boxers in the underworld – they’re bastards, but like all bastards they’ve got a code of honour. The only weapons they fight with are their fists. Anyone using guns or knives or baseball bats, they’re seen as … as disrespectful. Cowards. Not real men.’
    ‘So,’ mused Gene, his eyes narrowing. ‘At some point in his sordid past, Denzil Obi – and probably Spider along with him – got paid to give some bloke a straightener. And they used a weapon to do it, maybe a gun. And the bloke they walloped has either got a very aggrieved relative, or else he didn’t snuff it and is now feeling perky enough to go looking for revenge.’
    ‘And he carried out that revenge with his bare hands,’ put in Sam at last. ‘Denzil was punched to death. No weapon.’
    ‘Just a bullet down his wind pipe as if to say
guns are for poofters
,’ said Gene. ‘Very poetic.’
    ‘I’ve told you everything I know,’ said Stella. ‘You’ll have to speak to Spider if you want more – but I don’t think he’ll talk to you.’
    ‘No. He didn’t
seem
very chatty,’ said Gene. ‘Where can we find him when he’s not at the gym?’
    ‘You’ll be able to slap his home address out of me, I promise you.’
    ‘Appreciated,’ said Gene, releasing her from his powerful grip. ‘Well, Angela, you’ve been very helpful in our enquiries. Thank you for your time and cooperation. You can put your shoe and earring back on now. I’ll leave one of my colleagues, Detective Sergeant Carling, to get that address from you. He’s the chap with the moustache, you might have glimpsed him on the way in here. You’ll like him. He’s pretty handy.’
    ‘But not a patch on you, I bet,’ said Stella, looking languidly up at him.
    ‘Few men are, luv. Few men are.’
    And Gene, who was indeed some kind of a gentleman, offered her a post-interview cigarette.

CHAPTER FOUR: GET HER TO THE GREEK
    Night was settling over Manchester, and the boys from CID had repaired to the fag-stained snug of the Railway Arms. After his session with Stella in the Lost & Found Room, Gene had worked up a majestic thirst; Ray, too, had earned himself a drink, having been obliged to slap Spider’s address out of her; and even Chris needed a stiff one, his innocent young eyes still goggling at the sights he had witnessed. Given all the giving and receiving of pleasure through violence going on in CID today, Sam half expected to hear the strains of
Blue Velvet
playing on the pub stereo – but no, it was just Steely Dan singing
Do It Again
.
    ‘It’s dem tursty coppers again!’ grinned Nelson from behind the bar. He turned up his West Indian accent to 10 for their benefit. ‘Is it de beer or de music or mah bee-
oo
tiful face dat keeps bringing you back in here?’
    ‘Beer, music, then face, Nelson, in that order,’ said Sam. ‘Don’t be offended.’
    ‘If you were four hot ladies sayin’ dat,
den
I’d be ahffended! What can I be gettin’ you boys?’
    ‘Four pints of best. God knows, we’ve earned them today.’
    ‘Makin’ dis city safer for de lahks of me – you surely
have
earned ‘em!’ Nelson beamed. He was really putting on his routine tonight. As he pulled the pints, he shot a glance at Gene: ‘Hey Mister DCI, you lookin’ lahk de cat what licked up
aaall
de cream!’
    ‘The guv’s in luv,’ smirked Ray. ‘He met the girl of his dreams today.’
    ‘There is a line, Raymond,’ intoned Gene. ‘I’d hate to see you cross it.’
    ‘She’s more your age than mine, Guv,’ Ray said, winking at Sam. ‘Hey Chris, if you don’t mind the guv’s leftovers maybe you’d like a go on