Last Reminder by Stuart Pawson Read Free Book Online Page B

feet with the toe of my trainer, and he snatched it away. Same with the other – he’d survive.
    ‘OK, son,’ I said, grasping the collar of his jacket, ‘On your feet.’ He resisted for a few seconds, then allowed me to haul him upright. ‘You won’t believe this,’ I told him, ‘but I’ve just done you a favour.’
    Lockett took him away and most of the crowd wandered off, wondering if whatever was on satellite TV would be as good as this. A couple of grinning youths invited me in for a beer and a woman with an anorak over a housecoat told me that it was no thanks to me that the dog hadn’t been hurt. I chatted with one of the PCs for a few minutes – he’d had a spell at Heckley a couple of years ago – and went home.
    Two minutes in the microwave at number four warmed up the half a mug of tea I’d left on the worktop. Upstairs, I cleaned my teeth, stripped off all my clothes and crept into a nice warm bed. Just as I’d arrived at Lingwell I’d remembered that I’d left the electric blanket on. I reached out for the alarm clock and set it for fifteen minutes earlier than usual, to give me time for a shower in the morning. It was two minutes past midnight. It had been quite a Monday.

CHAPTER THREE
    There was a message on my desk next morning to ring a PC in Traffic. I did it straight away, in case it was anything I might need in the meeting.
    ‘It doesn’t matter, Mr Priest,’ he replied. ‘I didn’t realise you were tied up with a big case. It’ll do some other time.’
    ‘Go on, you might as well tell me,’ I said.
    ‘It’s OK. I was just going to ask you to do a poster for us.’
    I went to art college before I became a policeman. It’s an unusual route into the force, but it can be surprisingly useful. Any of them could have told me about the Fighting Temeraire, but how many knew that Wham! took their name from a Roy Lichtenstein painting? It doesn’t help solve cases, but I pick up a few useful points at Trivial Pursuit. The drawback is that I get asked to do all the posters for police dances.
    ‘No problem,’ I told him. ‘Send me the detailsand I’ll do it when I can.’ Actually, I find it quite relaxing, enjoy doing them.
    ‘It’s about bullbars,’ he said.
    ‘Bullbars?’
    ‘Yeah, you know, on the front of off-road vehicles. The van that hit that little boy in town last week was fitted with one. We’ve just received the pathologist’s report and it says that they made a significant contribution to his injuries. In other words, if it hadn’t been for them, he’d be alive today.’
    ‘Mmm, it’s sad,’ I said. ‘So what do you want? A little poster that you can stick up all over town?’
    ‘That’s right, Mr Priest. And maybe we can go round putting them behind their wipers while they’re in the supermarket, that sort of thing.’
    ‘Right, I’ll see what I can come up with. Have you managed to find some money in the budget for them?’
    ‘No, sir. We’ve decided to pay for them ourselves.’
    ‘Out of your own pockets?’
    ‘That’s right.’
    ‘OK, well, put me down for a couple of quid. Give me a few days – as you said, we’re a bit busy at the moment.’
    ‘Thanks a lot.’
    The phone was halfway back to its cradle when I heard him calling me.
    ‘Mr Priest!’
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘Sergeant Smedley would like a word with you.’
    He came on after a couple of seconds. ‘Hello, Charlie,’ he said.
    ‘Hi, George. What can I do for you?’
    ‘Do you still have that old E-type Jaguar?’
    ‘You mean thirty thousand quids’ worth of desirable motor car; the pinnacle of auto engineering, never approached before or since?’
    ‘That’s the one.’
    ‘Yes, I still have it. Want to buy it?’
    ‘No. I’ll stick with my Morris Eight. More my image. Can I put you down for the cavalcade at the Lord Mayor’s parade?’
    ‘Oh, I should think so. I enjoyed it last year. Will you send me the details?’
    ‘Will do. Cheers.’
    ‘No problem.’
    I inherited