Ripped (26 page)

One
of
the
men
turned
his
head
–
Stewart.
With
a
comic
carefulness,
he
eased
his
way
out
of
the
group
round
the
corpse.

It
was
only
when
they
were
back
round
the
corner
safely
out
of
sight
that
he
spoke,
'You
must
be
clean
off
your
nut.
Peerse
would've
gutted
you
if
he'd
seen
you
there.'
Before
Murray
could
answer,
Stewart
exclaimed,
'Not
another
one!'

The
Citizen
columnist
Billy
Shanks
was
being
nodded
in
his turn
past
the
young
Constable
.
He
came
towards
them
grinning
widely.

'Hold
it,
Billy,'
Stewart
said.
'You're
not
on.'

'There's
no
chance
of
a
quick
look
?
You
could
pretend
you haven't
seen
me.'

'One
mug's
enough,
Billy.
Put
it
in
reverse.' Billy
Shanks
gave
a
grin
of
inexhaustible
good
nature.
His
long
arms
waved
as
if
under
separate
instructions,
a
parallel
conversation
using
a
code
whose
semaphore
was
lost.

'Don't
blame
the
Constable,
Eddy.
You
shouldn't
have
a
boy
doing
a
man's
job.'

They
walked
slowly
back
towards
the
mouth
of
the
alley.
Stewart
spoke
very
fast
and
softly.
'Man
in
his
fifties
–
Doc
Pritchard's
having
a
look
at
him
now.
He's
got
stab
wounds
–
I
suppose
one
of
them
killed
him.
No
idea
when
yet.
A
van
man
found
him.
Maybe
it
happened
last
night,
small
hours
this
morning.
Oh,
one
other
thing
–
when
the
doc
was
looking,
I
saw
cuts
on
him
,
he'd
been
ripped
about
the
lower
body.'

'Sexually?'
Billy
Shanks
asked
hopefully.

'His
ornaments
are
still
there
if
that's
what
you
mean.
But
he's
got
cuts
– like
I say,
on
the
belly.' The
constable
made
a
business
of
clearing
a
way
for
them
into
the
crowd
.

'He's
doing
a
grand
job.'

'Little
Boy
Blue,'
Stewart
said
unexpectedly
and
laughed.

The
driver
was
dithering
beside
the
car.
When
he
saw
Stewart
with
Murray,
he
blew
out
his
plump
cheeks
in
a
sigh
of
relief.
'Another
bloody
eedjit!'
Stewart
said,
as
if
in
disbelief
that
the world
could
hold
so
many. Ignoring
the
driver,
they
walked
on
a
few
paces
beyond
the
car before
stopping.

'Have
you
an
identification?'

'He
just
had
on
a
shirt
and
trouser –
nothing
there
to
give
a
hint
who
he
is
–
was.'

‘J
ust?
You
mean
that
was
all?'

'The
lot.'

'It's
a
picture
job
then.
Show
it
around
till
somebody
recognises
him.'

At
this,
Stewart
took
a
quick
look
at
the
listening
Murray
who said,
'Yes
–
I
saw
it.'

'What?'
Shanks
asked
.

'The
bloody
van,'
Stewart
said
and
started
to
laugh,
'the
driver must
have
been
half
asleep.
Didn't
stop
till
he
felt
a
bump.
He
ran a
wheel
over
the
poor
bugger's
face.'

Grinning,
he
walked
away.
In
the
tenements
opposite,
women
hung
out
of
the
windows,
their
elbows
on
the
ledges
as
if
spectating
at
a
play.

'Your
usually
reliable
source
has
a
great
sense
of
humour,'

Murray
said
watching
him
make
his
way
back
through
the
crowd
around
the
alley.

'Ah,
Eddy's
not
the
worst.'

'One
of
the
best
–
laughing
all
the
way
to
the
bank.'

'Don't
be
like
that,'
Shanks
said
seriously.
'So
he
drops
a
hint
for
old
times'
sake,'
one
long
arm
made
a
complicated
explanatory
loop,
'why
not?
“Eat
up,
eat
up,
yer
growin'
boys!”
You
remember?'
And
as
Murray
stared
at
him,
reverted
to
the
same
parodic
voice,
“Eat
up,
boys,
you'll
never
find
better
digs
than
at
Ma
Donelly's”.’

'Ma
Donelly's
food
was
lousy,'
Murray
said,
remembering.
'I'd
forgotten
it
and
her.
Anyway
it
was
me
that
had
to
eat
it
not
you.'

'And
Eddy
and
I
would
come
round
and
bum
supper.'
'Can
you
give
me
a
run
back
into
town?'

'Everybody
was
nicer
then,'
Shanks
said
nostalgically.
At
the
same
time,
however,
he
looped
across
one
long
arm
and
gave
Murray
a
business-like
tap
on
the
shoulder.
'What
are
you
doing
here
anyway?'

'I
was
just
a
passenger.
The
call
came
through
while
I
was talking
to
Peerse.'

After
waiting
for
a
moment
to
see
if
there
was
any
more,
Shanks
said
in
a
tone
of
deepest
scepticism,
'And
you
and
Peerse
are
such
good
friends.
You
wouldn't
like
to
tell
me
what
you
were
talking
about?'