Over the Edge Read Online Free PDF Page B

gypsies used to do it years ago, with ponies and traps. You remember.’
    ‘That’s right,’ I said. ‘And huge sums were gambled on the outcome. I wonder if that’s what this was about.’
    ‘It’s what Rodger thinks.’
    ‘He could be right. I spoke to the pathologist this morning.’
    ‘And…?’
    ‘Death by multiple injuries consistent with a high-speed motor traffic accident. Traces of alcohol and cocaine in his blood. Minute traces, well belowthe legal limit for alcohol.’
    ‘Just enough to give him an edge?’ Maggie suggested.
    ‘Could be.’
    ‘In which case he was taking it very seriously. Professional, even.’
    ‘It’s possible. Oh, and he’s a long-term marijuana user.’
    ‘Has anything come back about the gun?’
    ‘Yeah. It’s a reactivated Glock, but there’s no history for it. Bear it in mind: we’re dealing with dangerous people. The money came to £ 500 exactly, in used twenties. Sparky said that’s peanuts these days. Kids go out with that much in their back pockets. A few fingerprints but I haven’t had a report on any matches.’
    We were having tea and sausage rolls in the canteen when Maggie asked: ‘How’s Rosie? Have you seen her lately?’
    It was between break times and there was nobody else in there, except the serving lady. ‘No,’ I replied, squeezing too much brown sauce onto my plate. ‘I rang her last week and she said she’s OK.’
    ‘But she didn’t want to continue the relationship?’
    ‘No.’
    Rosie Barraclough teaches geography and geology at my old school – Heckley Grammar. We’d gone out for a while but Rosie had called it off. Shehad, she said, too much baggage. My attempts to help her turned to ashes and Rosie was caught in a cycle of depression and remission that was never-ending . Much of the time she was delightful company – amusing and mischievous, with a giggling laugh that had people sitting nearby turning their heads and joining in the fun. But then the memories, the ghosts, would return and soon she’d be back to blaming herself for the sins of the world.
    ‘I’m worried about her,’ I said. ‘I think she needs help, if help exists for that sort of thing.’
    ‘Pills,’ Maggie stated. ‘They work for some people, turn others into zombies.’
    ‘We’ve talked about it, but she says she needs her wits about her when she’s in front of 30-odd teenagers, talking about grain production in Estonia.’
    ‘God, I bet she does. Is she back at school?’
    ‘Yes, went back for the new term. I rang her the first day to see how it had gone and she was happy enough with things.’
    ‘But she didn’t want to see you?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Do you want to see her, Charlie?’
    ‘I’m not sure, Maggie. Not sure at all. Well, yes I do, but…’
    ‘You could do without the hassle.’
    ‘I suppose so. I like her, like her a lot, and I want to help her.’
    ‘But you don’t know what you’d be taking on.’
    ‘It sounds underhand, selfish, when you put it like that, but you could be right. I’d risk it, Maggie, believe me, I’d risk it, but maybe it’s all for the best.’
    Maggie smiled at me. ‘No it’s not, Charlie, and you don’t believe it is, either. Talk to her. That can’t do any harm, can it? Talking about things is usually the best way. Invite her out on a foursome, or dinner at our place.’ She jumped to her feet. ‘Can’t stay here all day chatting or I’ll have the boss on to me. Got some doors to knock on.’
     
    I met Rosie when I took an evening class about local geology. I do a lot of walking, and like to know what’s under my feet and all around me. When the course ended I took her out a few times. The truth was, I’d have done anything for her. She’d had a tough life, with lots of disappointments, and had her problems, but she’d the figure of a fifteen-year -old schoolgirl and a grin that could halt a charging traffic warden at fifty paces. Her hair was silver and cropped short, and she wore scarlet