Weekend in Weighton Final Amazon version 12-12-12 by Unknown Read Free Book Online Page A

calls from school or visits from Mr Clement about his bloody shed window.’
    I gave her the “no way” headshake. ‘All down to William Moore. You know that. His cricket ball, his bat, his mistimed cut. He had previous with Clement, too. If Rough Justice ever gets its bloody act together the world will know the truth.’ I held up three fingers. ‘We have forensics, motive and a smokin’ gun. Case dismissed.’
    She just looked at me, her face implacable.
    Then the penny dropped.
    ‘I get it, now,’ I said. ‘Bob “The Louse” Jones called you, yeah?’
    The brief look of puzzlement on her face was genuine. ‘I haven’t heard from him. And he’s not a louse.’
    ‘So who’s been tweetin’?’
    She eyed me carefully. ‘First I had a visit from a Detective Bugg. Then three men called at the house on behalf of Mr Cartwright. Said you’d know them.’
    ‘Ah,’ I said, taking a backward step, ‘takeaway it is.’
    ~
     
    I was sitting at the kitchen table reading the Post , and half way through a second cup of tea, when Mum raised the subject again.
    ‘Come on, Edward, what’s going on? Is it to do with this case you’ve taken on?’
    She was straight on the money. Pinpoint enough for a whole case of cigars. I pressed my hands around the hot mug until they began to burn. ‘If I tell you, promise not to worry?’
    She leaned against the gas cooker, crossing her arms. ‘I’m your Mother. It’s like asking me not to open your mail.’
    ‘Deal or no deal?’
    ‘You willtell me, and I will still worry.’
    I tried a partial change of subject. ‘A man is blessed to have so many visitors in one day, don’t you think? Did these impertinent fellows say what they wanted?’
    ‘The police had a look around and left.’
    ‘Without a warrant?’ I made the “sheesh” noise. ‘You know better than that, Mum. You did live with a policeman, remember?’
    She raised a finger and wagged it in that “watch your step young man” fashion. Then she switched back to Bugg mode. ‘Why did the police come here?’
    ‘Probably looking for a bent shovel,’ I wondered out loud.
    ‘What does that mean?’
    ‘Nothing. What about the others?’
    She paused and looked at me before replying. ‘They were looking for you, wouldn’t say why. They told me not to worry; they’d find you in town.’
    ‘There you go. Everyone’s tellin’ you not to worry.’
    She shook her proud head. ‘They were very polite. Too polite. Really made me shiver, love.’ She stepped over to the table and put her hand on mine. Her eyes blinked away tears. ‘I was scared. Not for me, but you. Please tell me what’s going on?’
    I felt a stinging pain attack my Achilles’ heel. I’d have to give a little. I hated to see her cry. She’d had enough of that when Dad died.
    ‘That case I’ve taken on – my lady client – well, she kinda died on me. The police are looking into it.’ I shrugged. ‘It’s what they do.’
    She looked up sharply. ‘Died?’
    I nodded.
    ‘Do they think you’re involved?’
    ‘Come on, Mum, you knew enough about Dad’s work to know the answer to that. I’m the only lead they’ve got. They’re making enquiries, trying to eliminate me as a suspect. That’s all.’
    ‘You’re not involved, are you.’ It was a statement, not a question.
    ‘I’d only just met the lady. Honest. There’s not much I can tell them.’
    She offered a half smile, but it was only a staging post, disappearing as she went on. ‘What about the other men and this Mr Cartwright? Do I know that name?’
    ‘You may do. I know Dad knew him. He’s a businessman from Weighton, and he’s on the city council.’
    Mum zeroed in a stare. ‘And he sends three heavies to see you because …?’
     ‘That’s a bit more difficult. I’m guessing here, but I think he’s connected to the lady who died. I don’t know how, but I’ll figure it.’
    ‘You won’t, Edward. I forbid it. You hear me?’
    ‘Yeah, in big