Good Year For Murder Read Online Free PDF

possible victim. Zulp finally decided to allocate him two crossing guards from nine to five.
    After a brief explanation of the plan, Zulp jumped right into the mechanics.
    â€œNow. I’ll call names. Aldermen first. Ward one. They’ll stand up. The four policemen assigned to that ward will descend to the Council floor. Take up positions. Behind their respective charges.” He turned and faced the rows of navy blue uniforms behind. “You’ve got your orders.”
    This explained the mysterious notes given to the policemen before the meeting. In the case of Tretheway and Jake, it contained one word: “MacCulla”.
    â€œFamiliarize yourself with your man. Or woman. Make sure they know who you are. Introduce yourself. Shake hands if necessary.” Zulp turned back to the meeting. “I’ll continue through the Aldermen. Wards one to four. Then the Controllers. The Mayor.” He thumbed through his pages for the proper sheet. “Now. Everybody ready?” Zulp, expecting no answer, paused only briefly. “Ward one. Alderman Lucifer Taz. And Alderman Morgan Morgan.”
    The two Aldermen rose. At least, Alderman Morgan rose. Lucifer Taz unfolded from his seat.
    Taz was tall, very thin and appeared to be made up mostly of joints. His straight, black hair, plastered wetly against his forehead, and his equally black moustache accentuated the whiteness of his complexion. A scarlet boutonniere blazed tastefully against the drabness of his dark grey lapel. People often said that Taz looked like the perfect Funeral Director (which he was). Compassionate, discreet and knowledgeable in the ways of embalming and bereavement, he had made a deserved success of the undertaking business, in spite of his drinking.
    As a politician, he was conscientious, dedicated, at times naïve, but always industrious. He put in more hours than necessary for his constituents. Taz had the best attendance record on Council. When he spoke at a meeting, his choice of words and syntax reflected a university education. His voice was higher than the average woman’s.
    Taz lived alone above the funeral home where, after work, he wore heavy red flannel or plaid shirts and stuffed his denim overalls into scuffed, hi-cut boots. In the outdoors (he took several church-sponsored camping trips a year) he wore a Hudson’s Bay coat with a bonhomme togue and carried a rifle or paddle. Heloved outdoor sports with a passion but could never summon the proper control to coordinate his ungainly length. Lucifer Taz was an enthusiastic, but incompetent, skier, snowshoer, hunter, and canoeist.
    Alderman Morgan also drank. He had been born in India to Colonel and Lady Archibald Humphrey, who had given him the Christian name of Morgan, his mother’s maiden name.
    When young Morgan Humphrey was five years old, his father took part and was killed in a military action now remembered only by dusty English historians: The storming of Kabul, 1879. Morgan’s mother went home to England and, never one to indulge in self-pity, remarried within six months. Her second husband was a close cousin with, unfortunately, the surname of Morgan. After many bitter discussions between the Morgans and the Humphreys, the new couple legally adopted the child, thus officially changing his last name to theirs.
    Morgan Morgan, although now a Canadian and Fort York Alderman, still looked like a son of Colonel Archibald Humphrey. Morgan stood as though he were on parade, wore his clothes like uniforms and sported a military-style grey moustache. His language was surprisingly foul, but his cultured accent could only have come from years spent in a public (private) school.
    The bond between Morgan Morgan and Lucifer Taz was alcohol. Whether together or alone, they drank gin and tomato juice in the morning, wine with their lunch, cocktails and brandy at dinnertime and finished each day with beer. Their attitudes towards drink differed. Where Taz gulped