The New Eastgate Swing (30 page)

***

‘They've been here.' Baker's voice on the telephone was gruff. ‘They're on their way to your flat. Remember what we agreed.'

‘I haven't forgotten,' Markham told him. ‘Don't worry.'

‘How are you feeling?'

‘Not too bad.' His leg was stiff; it hurt when he tried to put weight on it. The stitches looked red, angry and ugly. But he could limp around with help from the stick.

‘I'll bring your car out later.'

‘Thanks.'

***

Davidson and Molloy. Neither of them so pleasant this time, but they still couldn't shake off being gentlemen. However much they insisted, Markham denied knowing anything. There was a tunnel under Bridge Street? He didn't know that. No, they'd never found Harker. Or Mrs Fox.

‘What happened to your leg?' Molloy asked.

‘I cut it on some scrap metal.'

‘That must have been nasty.' He didn't believe a word.

‘I had some stitches. It'll heal.'

They went at him for an hour, changing tack every few minutes. One friendly, the other aggressive. All the techniques he'd learned back in military intelligence. He'd also been taught how to counter them. He didn't give them an inch. They had no proof and they knew it.

‘One last thing,' Davidson said as they were preparing to leave. ‘I believe you were looking for someone called Trevor Peel.'

‘Yes, we'd arranged to meet but he never showed up. Why?'

The man stared at him. Markham returned his gaze.

‘It doesn't matter.'

‘We might want to talk to you again,' Molloy told him as they left, but he knew they'd never return. They'd had their chance and found nothing.

***

An hour later and it was Baker at his door, wheezing from the stairs and handing over the car keys.

‘Did they get anything from you?'

‘Of course not,' Markham told him.

‘Good lad.' He paused. ‘I'd better tell you, we've had another missing person case come in.'

‘From your mates on the force again?'

Baker laughed.

‘I'm just pulling your leg. There's been nothing at all. Get yourself well and I'll see you on Monday. We'll hash it all out then.'

The second post arrived as the big man was leaving. Inside an envelope, a small poster advertising Georgina's appearance at Studio 20. Written in pen,
Tickets going fast! Book now!

He'd send her a good luck note. She didn't want him there, but he wished her well. Maybe this would be the start of good things for her.

***

Markham whiled away the rest of the day reading and dozing in the chair. Like an old man, he thought. He pottered around the flat, eventually turning on the lights against the darkness outside, looking out of the window, anticipation rising every time the bus stopped.

Finally she was there on the other side of the road, glancing up and waving as she saw him. Her red coat and beret were bright against the evening gloom. He smiled. There was hope yet.

CHRIS NICKSON is the author of the Richard Nottingham and Tom Harper series (Severn House). He is also the author of two historical crime fiction series for The Mystery Press:
The Crooked Spire
and
The Saltergate Psalter
, medieval mysteries set in fourteenth-century Chesterfield, and the Dan Markham series set in 1950s Leeds. Chris lives in Leeds.

Original cover photograph ©
iStockphoto.com

First published in 2016

The Mystery Press is an imprint of The History Press

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