Golden Mile to Murder Read Online Free PDF

corridor to welcome the two arrivals from headquarters. A nice touch, Woodend thought, as they shook hands. A very nice touch indeed.
    Having greeted his fellow chief inspector, Turner immediately shifted his attention to Paniatowski. ‘Hello, Monika,’ he said warmly. ‘How are you keeping?’
    â€˜I’m fine, sir,’ the sergeant replied.
    And Woodend noticed that, for once, Paniatowski seemed to have given up playing the Ice Maiden.
    Turner led them into his office, and gestured to them to sit down.
    â€˜I was wonderin’ if you were the feller I thought you were,’ Woodend said, as he lowered himself into one of the visitors’ chairs. ‘An’ now I see that you are.’
    Turner looked puzzled. ‘I beg your pardon, si— I mean, Charlie.’
    Woodend grinned. ‘Aye, you’re right, there’s no need to “sir” me now,’ he said. ‘While I’ve been standin’ still halfway up the promotion ladder, just lookin’ at the view, you’ve been climbin’ it like a mountain goat. An’ good luck to you.’
    â€˜I wasn’t sure you’d remember me,’ Turner said.
    â€˜What? Not remember the sergeant who found the adjustable spanner which finally led us to the plumber?’ Woodend shook his head. ‘No, when a man’s sweated blood for me, I don’t forget. I knew you were him the second I saw you, but until you spoke to my assistant here I wasn’t sure whether you were the Inspector Turner who’d written such nice things in her records while he was based in Whitebridge.’
    â€˜I . . . yes, that’s me,’ Turner said, noticing that Paniatowski, who was now sitting in other visitors’ chair, was starting to blush.
    â€˜Well, it’s nice to start with an “in”, even if it is only through the good offices of my sergeant,’ Woodend said pleasantly.
    â€˜You’ll want briefing about the murder,’ Turner suggested.
    â€˜Indeed I will,’ Woodend agreed. ‘But before we get on to that, why don’t you paint me a bit of a picture of what it’s like bein’ a bobby in this place?’
    â€˜All right,’ Turner agreed. ‘We get a lot of visitors, s— Charlie, but in most respects Blackpool is essentially a small town with typically small-town crime.’
    â€˜A fair number of pickpockets, I’d imagine.’
    â€˜Yes, plenty of them. And there’s some prostitution, though not a lot. We have our share of drunken holidaymakers – especially when they’ve just arrived or are about to leave; and a fair amount of vandalism.’
    â€˜But no murders?’
    â€˜We get the odd heat-of-the-moment killing, but none of the really deep mysteries like the ones you’ll be used to working on.’
    â€˜Until now,’ Woodend pointed out. ‘Tell me about the dead man – this Inspector Davies.’
    â€˜Pu— Billy put his heart and soul into his work. Everybody thought very highly of him.’
    â€˜You weren’t goin’ to call him Billy, were you?’
    â€˜I beg your pardon?’
    â€˜You were goin’ to call him “Pug” or somethin’ like that.’
    â€˜Punch,’ Turner admitted. ‘That was his nickname. Though nobody called it him to his face.’
    â€˜Punch,’ Woodend repeated thoughtfully. ‘Why’d he get that name? Handy with his fists, was he? Not averse to havin’ the prisoners he was interrogatin’ accidentally fall down a couple of flights of stairs?’
    â€˜It was nothing like that,’ Turner assured him. ‘The lads called him Punch after the puppet, and his wife – Edna – has always been Judy to them.’
    â€˜Now why is that?’ Woodend wondered.
    Turner shrugged uncomfortably. ‘It’s only three years since I was transferred here from Whitebridge. When I arrived at the station he was