Darkest Before Dawn by Katie Flynn Read Free Book Online Page B

she would give tongue immediately if a stranger entered the warehouse, or she heard someone acting suspiciously outside the building.
    Herbie Hughes had disliked dogs – or said he did – so Mr Fuller had not brought Bessie with him whilst Herbie had been head warehouseman. No doubt, had Bessie been around, she would have warned the old man when Herbie entered the building, so both Mr Bister and Harry had gladly agreed to the old man’s bringing his companion with him, and now Bessie grinned up at Harry, and butted his knee with her head.
    â€˜Good morning, Bess, old lady. Morning, Mr Fuller; anything to report?’ Harry said, bending to fondle the dog’s silky ears.
    â€˜No sir, us had a quiet night, though Thomas caused a bit of a stir by catching a rat,’ Mr Fuller said, with a chuckle. ‘That young cat is going to be worth his weight in gold; I’m thinking Mr Bister ought to pay him a regular wage ’cos that’s the third rat he’s caught this week.’
    â€˜Jolly good,’ Harry said, trying to infuse his voice with enthusiasm. Rats did not only infest warehouses. They were quite capable of getting aboard canal boats as well, and, as a young lad, Harry had met one face to face when fastening a canvas cover to the combing. Unwisely, he had crawled forward, expecting the rat to flee, but instead it had jumped at him and bitten his chin. He had the scar still and felt a revulsion for rats which he could not quite conquer, though he was continually impressing upon others that rats were still God’s creatures and should be dealt with as quickly and as painlessly as possible. Now, he looked around him, a trifle uneasily. ‘What have you done with the body? It’s not in the office, is it?’
    Mr Fuller chuckled again. ‘I purrit just inside the main doors. Thomas broke its neck, just like a terrier does, so it’s crouching there, lookin’ real lifelike. I hopes as it’ll give Baldwin a turn, since he’s the one as told the boss I must be in league with old Herbie.’
    â€˜But Mr Bister knew that wasn’t true,’ Harry protested. ‘I suppose I ought to move the corpse . . . but I don’t think I shall. Heaven knows, the lads have played enough pranks on me.’
    The night watchman cocked a knowing eye. ‘Pranks? Oh aye, I s’pose you could call ’em pranks. But you wants to watch that Baldwin; if anyone was in league with Herbie, it were him. Oh, don’t worry, I reckon he’s learned his lesson, but he’s a spiteful sod and I reckon he’s missin’ the little extras he got because he were Herbie’s mate, like. Still an’ all, he’s in work which is more than you can say for a lot of poor devils.’
    â€˜True,’ Harry said. ‘Is the kettle over the flame, Mr Fuller? I’m that parched I could drink the canal dry. Want to join me in a mug o’ tea?’
    â€˜I wouldn’t mind,’ the old man said, turning back towards the kitchen. ‘I put the kettle on ’cos I know how you are – allus thirsty.’ He grinned up at Harry, his watery eyes twinkling. ‘That remark tells me you’re a bargee, Mr Todd. A scouser would say I could drink the Mersey dry , not the bleedin’ canal.’
    Harry returned the man’s grin as they entered the small kitchen where the kettle was beginning to hiss on the Primus stove. ‘It doesn’t matter what I say; one glance at my leathery face would tell you I’d spent my life on the canals,’ Harry said, rather ruefully. ‘You know I’m a lay preacher? Well, I were preaching away last Sunday, up in Everton, when I heard a little boy in the congregation ask his mother whether I were an African or an Indian. She, poor soul, was rare embarrassed and gave him a cuff, but not an answer, so I leaned down from the pulpit and told him I were a water gypsy, which had the poor little