Death in the Sun Read Online Free PDF Page A

copas , still reeling at the sound of the name of the man who murdered his parents.
    ‘There were only three English killed. It might have been a long time ago, but it’s a big thing in Spain, still. Paul and Enid Wagstaffe. They lie heavy on our conscience, like the memories of our two boys on yours.’
    ‘Omagh,’ says Staffe.
    Gutiérrez clinks his glass against Staffe’s, says, ‘I think you have nothing. In which case, let’s get drunk and tomorrow you can be on your way back to Almagen.’
    Staffe sips his manzanilla , considers the fact that he hadn’t told Gutiérrez he is living in Almagen. He leans close to Raúl, whispers, ‘He was killed with water, right?’
    Raúl’s eyes flicker and he smiles. ‘What exactly did your African friend say?’
    ‘He drew me a pretty picture. Maybe I should see what you say in your newspaper and then I’ll know how deep you are in the Cuerpo’s pocket.’
    ‘And why should you care, Inspector Wagstaffe?’
    He guesses that Raúl has built a career on people underestimating him, thinking he is some played-out libertine. He finishes the sherry and looks at the fish and crustaceans on ice behind the bar. ‘There must be a dozen tapas to be had here.’
    ‘To loosen my tongue?’
    Staffe thinks to himself, that’s not on the menu. Not tonight.
    Raúl must see this because he puts an arm around Staffe’s shoulder. His breath is malty as he says, ‘We’re going to get on fine, the two of us. I just know it.’ He slaps Staffe hard on the back and laughs. Behind the eyes, though, Staffe sees something familiar, glinting in the dark. Raúl is afraid.
    *
    Pulford watches Brandon Latymer leave Pearl’s. B-Lat, which is what Brandon goes by, swaggers out of the caff with his hips low and his jeans halfway down his thighs and as he walks past the window, he winks at Pulford and taps his chest, twice, to signify that he is carrying and there is nothing that an officer of the law can do about it – not when you take into account the shenanigans that Pulford is requesting Brandon to perform; even though he is supposedly in hiding from the likes of Pulford‚ on account of a hit and run up on the Seven Sisters Road.
    DS David Pulford puts his head in his hands and sighs, heavy and long. His conscience will wrestle with B-Lat’s guilt later, when he has brought Jadus Golding to justice. He pushes his mug away and leaves enough money to cover his tea and Brandon’s can of Nurishment. He feels as though this goose chase is getting away from him and he takes another look at the warrant for arrest he had just shown Brandon.
    Of all Jadus Golding’s e.Gang, B-Lat has most to lose by not fingering Jadus for the shooting of Staffe. Brandon wants his warrant for arrest for the hit and run withdrawn, on account of a new alibi he has discovered. Pulford told him he couldn’t do that, but he would help him remain at large. Brandon had said, ‘You must be a pussy, letting people like us take pops at police. He was your boss, right?’ He laughed. ‘Proper pussy.’
    ‘I’ll have you and your brother for manslaughter.’
    ‘And these conversations? You want that in the open?’
    ‘You couldn’t prove anything.’
    ‘Not according to my barrister.’
    ‘You’re talking to your barrister!’
    That was when Brandon had got up, looking down on Pulford. ‘You know‚ they say police was on the Seven Sisters that night I was supposed to have mowed that poor boy down.’
    Pulford knows where Brandon parked his Cherokee Jeep and he will know exactly where it will go, from now until whenever he finds the tracker. The device is unauthorised. In the eyes of the law it doesn’t exist, but if things work out, it won’t be necessary in any court of law.
    On his way to the Limekiln, Pulford remembers the first time Staffe took him to Pearl’s. They had ribs, rice and peas, and corn bread. It wasn’t Pulford’s bag, but Staffe loved it.
    Staffe’s Peugeot is parked up in the Limekiln