Body of a Girl Read Online Free PDF

middle of the High Street. If we’d wanted to stop for a refill this morning we’d have caused a traffic block just trying to turn in.”
    â€œThat’s because it was market day. Other days it’s not so bad.”
    â€œNot so long ago,” said Johnno, “there were three bloody great garages in the High Street.”
    â€œIt’s time you ordered a drink,” said Bull.
    Whilst he was out of the room, Mercer nodded at the flap of sleeve stuck into Bull’s left pocket and said, “War?”
    â€œArnhem. And that was a bloody shambles, if you like.”
    â€œSo I’d heard. Not one of our brighter bits of planning.”
    â€œIf some of those characters in scarlet hats who were running the war had been put in charge of a launderette they’d have been bankrupt inside the year.”
    â€œWell!” said Vikki. “That wasn’t what you told me.”
    â€œAbout what?”
    â€œAbout how you lost your arm. You said you ran off with a Frenchman’s wife, and he challenged you to a duel, and cut it off with his sword.”
    They were still laughing when Johnno came back with the drinks.
    â€œBob says this definitely is the last round.”
    â€œThat means we shan’t get more than two more,” said Bull.
    â€œNot tonight,” said Mercer. “Can’t break the law on my first night.”
    As he walked home, along the towpath, he was wondering about them. Rainey was clearly an alcoholic. Not a very safe man to have keeping your accounts. Johnno was sharp. He had the look and build of a jockey. Mercer thought that he would enjoy swindling his enemies but would probably be loyal to his friends. Bull was in a different class altogether. A capable dangerous man. Someone you might find yourself liking very much though.
    But it wasn’t the men themselves that he was really thinking about. Mercer was a man whose trade had taught him to be interested in small things. It was the moment when Johnno had said, “Not so long ago there were three garages.” When he said it, Mercer had been admiring the nine-pound trout in the glass case over the fireplace. And, mirrored in that glass, he had seen, so fleetingly that it might have been his imagination, only he knew that it wasn’t, the look which Bull had given his subordinate. It was a look which said, in clear black print, “Shut your mouth, you bloody fool.” And he had packed him off to order a round of drinks before he could say any more.
    Mercer stowed it away in the ragbag of odds and ends, pieces of information and impressions which he had picked up in his first twenty-four hours at Stoneferry.
    Somewhere below him, in the dimness, a punt was moored to a landing stage. Mercer could see the two figures, a man and a girl, stretched full length on the cushions. He heard the girl laugh. He wished he was down in the boat with a girl who could laugh like that, instead of going home to a bed like a rockery, in Cray Avenue.

Chapter Three
    Mercer bought his copy of the Daily Mirror on his way to the station. It was the second lead story on the back page. There was the usual efficient spread. A picture of Michael, grinning all over his face, and next to it one of his father, looking angry. The second picture had actually been taken several months earlier, but the juxtaposition was effective. There was a shot of the island taken with a good telephoto lens from the opposite bank of the river. It didn’t show much, because screens had been put up round the excavation. The story was based on some pretty thorough footwork. It was clear, that, among other people, the reporter had talked to Dr. Champion.
    Tom Rye and Prothero were busy spreading the contents of the basket onto two trestle tables.
    â€œIt’s a funny thing,” said Rye. “Do you know we’ve found three shoes, and they’re all right foot. You could build up quite a theory on that. The murderer with no