Child's Play by Reginald Hill Read Free Book Online Page B

realized that there were a number of minor variations from the norm which, crushed together, might make a small oddity. It was annoying that Dalziel should have proved more percipient in this than himself. He wouldn't call Wield a friend, but a bond of respect and also of affection had developed between the men, a closeness signalled perhaps by his growing irritation at Dalziel's 'ugly' jokes.
    His mind was diverted from the problem, if problem there was, by the landlord's voice from the bar.
    'Sorry, love, but you don't look eighteen to me, and it's more than me licence is worth to sell you alcohol. You can have a fruit juice, but.'
    It was, of course, a stage-loudness for their benefit, thought Pascoe. Though indeed Jolly Jack Mahoney, the licensee, might well have objected even without a police presence to serving this customer, a small bespectacled girl who didn't look much above thirteen.
    Mahoney leaned over the bar and said in a quieter voice, if it's grub you're after, love, go through that door, there's a bit of a dining-room, the girl'll slip you a glass of wine with your meal, no bother. Them gents over there are the police, so you see my trouble.'
    The girl did not move except to turn her head so that the owl-eye spectacles ringed Dalziel and Pascoe.
    Her voice when she spoke was nervous but determined.
    'I thought you boasted at the Licensed Victuallers Association that the police never bothered you as long as the CID could get drinks at all hours, Mr Mahoney.'
    The publican's jaw dropped through shock into dismay.
    'Hold on, hold on,' he said, glancing anxiously towards Dalziel who was viewing him malevolently. 'You shouldn't say things like that, lass. Do I know you?'
    'You know my father, John Huby, I think.'
    'Up at the Old Mill Inn? By God, is it little Lexie? Why didn't you say, lass! You must be near on twenty now. I know her, she's near on twenty!'
    These last affirmations were directed towards Dalziel who finished his pint, placed the glass on the table and pointed menacingly into it, like Jahweh setting up a widow's cruse.
A young man had come into the bar, of medium height, elegantly coiffured and dressed in a black and yellow striped blazer, cheese-cloth shirt and cream-coloured slacks. His regularly handsome features broke into a gleaming smile as he spotted the girl and bore down on her, arms outstretched.
'Dear Lexie,' he cried. 'I am late. Forgive me. Purge me with a kiss.'
Pascoe was amused to see that the girl ducked at the last second from his questing lips and got him in the eye with her big spectacles. Then the newcomer obtained two glasses of white wine and a plateful of sandwiches from Mahoney and he and the small girl sat down at the far side of the room, still within sight but now out of earshot.
He returned his attention to Dalziel who was saying, 'That Mahoney, I'll need to have a quiet word about going around slandering the police.'
'Now?' said Pascoe.
'Don't be daft! When he's shut and we can get down to some serious drinking.'
And he bellowed with laughter at the sight of the pained expression on Pascoe's face.
At their distant table, Lexie and Rod Lomas heard the laugh, but only Lexie registered the source.
'I really am sorry I'm late,' Lomas was saying. 'But I'm afraid I still tend to think of all urban distances as minute outside of London. To compensate, I tend to treat all country distances as vast. Had we been meeting at your father's pub, say, I dare say I'd have been there an hour ago.'
Lexie did not reply but bit into a sandwich.
Lomas said with a smile, 'You don't say a great deal, do you, dear coz?'
'I were waiting for you to finish putting me at ease,' said Lexie.
'Oh dear,' said Lomas. 'I see I shall have to watch you, little Lexie.'
'I'm not your cousin, and I'm five feet two inches barefoot,' said Lexie.
'Oh dear,' repeated Lomas. 'Are there any other sensitive areas we ought to check out straightaway?'
'Why do you call yourself Lomas?' said Lexie. 'Your name is