Hell Is Always Today Read Online Free PDF Page A

waited for the barman to mix him a large gin and tonic, he couldn’t help but overhear their conversation.
    “Always the lady, Joanna,” Faulkner said. “Doesn’t anything ever disturb your poise?”
    “Poor Bruno, have I spoiled your little joke? Where did you pick her up, by the way?”
    “The public bar of The King’s Arms. I’d hoped she might enliven the proceedings. At least I’ve succeeded in annoying Frank from the look on his face. Thanks be for small mercies.”
    Joanna shook her head and smiled. “What am I going to do with you?”
    “I could make several very pleasant suggestions. Variations on a theme, but all eminently worthwhile.”
    Before she could reply, Mary Beresford approached and Faulkner louted low. “Madam, all homage.”
    There was real disgust on her face. “You are really the most disgusting man I know. How dare you bring that dreadful creature here.”
    “Now there’s a deathless line if you like. Presumably from one of those Victorian melodramas you used to star in.” She flinched visibly and he turned and looked towards the girl who was dancing with Morgan. “In any case what’s so dreadful about a rather luscious young bird enjoying herself. But forgive me. I was forgetting how long it was since you were in that happy state, Aunt Mary.” The old woman turned and walked away and Faulkner held up a hand defensively. “I know, I’ve done it again.”
    “Couldn’t you just ignore her?” Joanna asked.
    “Sorry, but she very definitely brings out the worst in me. Have a martini.”
    As the barman mixed them, Joanna noticed Miller and smiled. “Now here’s someone I want you to meet, Bruno. Nick Miller. He’s a policeman.”
    Faulkner turned, examined Miller coolly and sighed. “Dammit all, Joanna, there is a limit you know. I do draw the line at coppers. Where on earth did you find him?”
    “Oh, I crawled out of the woodwork,” Miller said pleasantly, restraining a sudden impulse to put his right foot squarely between Faulkner’s thighs.
    Joanna looked worried and something moved in the big man’s eyes, but at that moment the door chimes sounded. Miller glanced across, mainly out of curiosity. When the maid opened the door he saw Jack Brady standing in the hall, his battered, Irish face infinitely preferable to any that he had so far met with that evening.
    He put down his glass and said to Joanna. “Looks as if I’m wanted.”
    “Surely not,” she said in considerable relief.
    Miller grinned and turned to Faulkner. “I’d like to say it’s been nice, but then you get used to meeting all sorts in my line of work.”
    He moved through the crowd rapidly before the big man could reply, took his coat and cap from the maid and gave Brady a push into the hall. “Let’s get out of here.”
    The door closed behind them as he pulled on his trenchcoat. Detective Constable Jack Brady shook his head sadly. “Free booze, too. I should be ashamed to take you away.”
    “Not from that lot you shouldn’t. What’s up?”
    “Gunner Doyle’s on the loose.”
    Miller paused, a frown of astonishment on his face. “What did you say?”
    “They moved him into the Infirmary from Manningham Gaol yesterday with suspected food poisoning. Missed him half an hour ago.”
    “What’s he served—two and a half years?”
    “Out of a five stretch.”
    “The daft bastard. He could have been out in another ten months with remission.” Miller sighed and shook his head. “Come on then, Jack, let’s see if we can find him.”

3
    Faulkner ordered his third martini and Joanna said, “Where have you been for the past two days?”
    “Working,” he told her. “Damned hard. When were you last at the studio?”
    “Wednesday.”
    “There were three figures in the group then. Now there are four.”
    There was real concern in her voice and she put a hand on his arm. “That’s really too much, Bruno, even for you. You’ll kill yourself.”
    “Nonesense. When it’s there, it’s