Policeman's Progress Read Online Free PDF

that little squirt that runs a barrow on the quayside of a Sunday morning.’
    Jackie was feverishly doing up the top button of his shirt and pulling up his tie. ‘Archie Lee – I’ll have his skin! But it’s Geordie I want first. Didn’t I tell you he was on the twist – didn’t I?’
    Joe bobbed his head owlishly, peering at Jackie who by now was pulling on his jacket.
    â€˜What’s all the rush then?’
    The other man was halfway to the door.
    â€˜Come on, man … where’ll we find that sandy-headed bastard this time o’ night? Some boozer or other; you should know which one.’
    Joe trailed after him.
    â€˜He’ll likely be in the Cross Inn or the Berwick Arms,’ he mumbled after his boss. ‘Them’s his usual hang-outs, though he’s been flashing it up in them smart hotels at the top end of town since he came into money.’
    Stott hustled him out of the flat and slammed the door. He thundered down the stairs and got the Mercedes from his lock-up garage in the little court at the side of the club.
    A moment later, they were racing through the streets, heedless of the speed limit, until a mere few hundred yards away the big white car pulled up with a jerk and Joe was hustled out at the bottom of Grainger Street to search the Cross Inn for signs of Armstrong.
    â€˜Nah, ’e ain’t there,’ he reported a moment later. ‘Reckon he’ll be in the Berwick.’
    They rushed off again, this time towards the riverside. The Berwick Arms was only a short distance from the moorings of the Mississippi .
    â€˜Hear anything else while you was in the bog?’ demanded Jackie, as they hurtled down the steep street towards the Tyne.
    â€˜Nah – only what I told you.’
    â€˜Nothing about Laura?’
    â€˜Nope, Archie Lee was only there a minute … what you going to do ’bout him?’
    â€˜I’ll fix him all right. I’ve seen him there a few times, playing the wheel, but I didn’t connect him with Geordie. They wasn’t proper mates, was they?’
    â€˜Not as I know of – they couldn’t have worked the fiddle if they was known to be buddies. Wonder how they did it?’
    â€˜That’s what we’re going to find out – amongst other things,’ snapped Jackie grimly. He went off into a string of curses which lasted almost until they pulled up outside the Berwick Arms.
    â€˜Have a look in the public bar – I’ll try the snug.’
    Joe began to move away, then hesitated.
    â€˜What if ’e’s in there’
    â€˜Drag the bugger out. What d’yer think?’ snarled Jackie impatiently. He strode off toward the left-hand door, leading to the Lounge Bar and snug.
    Stopping outside the lounge door, he stared in through the old-fashioned engraved glass panel. There was a fair crowd inside, in spite of the drab surroundings.
    He turned and looked into the smaller private bar. Again there was no sign of Geordie and some sixth sense stopped him going inside to make sure. He made his way out and stood fuming on the deserted pavement.
    He had started to walk towards the entrance to the public bar to see what luck Joe had had, when the swing-doors opened and a body shot out as if fired from a gun.
    It was Armstrong, propelled by Joe Blunt’s strong right arm. He rocketed across the slippery pavement and hit the side of the Mercedes, crumpling into a heap on the ground.
    Without a word, Joe and Jackie closed in on him and flung him into the front seat. Joe slipped in alongside him and Stott ran around to the driving seat. Within thirty seconds they were rolling down the quayside, headed for the gambling boat.
    â€˜What the ’ell do you think you’re doing?’ protested Geordie, as soon as he had got his breath back.
    â€˜It’s what we’re going to do you want to worry about,’ snarled Jackie.
    Geordie, who knew full well what it