The Devil's Moon Read Online Free PDF Page A

like Hitchcock’s hordes from
The Birds
for the spoils of yesterday’s fish storm, the experts at our local universities are coming up with theories about what caused the inundation.’
    â€˜You’re in a lyrical mood, Si,’ Kate said from her microphone at her producer’s desk next door. ‘We have our own expert on the line in the shape of former mayor, Andy Friend, mainly responsible for setting up our magnificent fishing museum down on the Boardwalk.’
    â€˜A fish expert on the line?’ Simon said. There was a short delay that he felt obliged to fill, silence being a radio DJ’s biggest fear. ‘See what I did there? Fish . . . expert on the line?’ He gave an exaggerated snort. ‘Please yourselves. I’m wasted here, wasted.’
    â€˜You usually are, Simon,’ Kate said. ‘Here’s Andy.’
    â€˜Morning, Andy the fish expert – tell us your theory about the flying fish. Or rather the falling fish.’
    â€˜They’re all fish that are local to Brighton. Most of them would usually be arriving in our waters around now. Most of them make the local shipwrecks their habitat.’
    â€˜So how did they get out of the shipwrecks and into the air?’
    â€˜Water spout.’
    â€˜Water spout?’
    â€˜A tornado over water,’ Friend said. ‘We had one in 2006.’
    â€˜I don’t remember my fish supper dropping on my head in 2006. Although I was clubbing a lot back then so I might not have noticed.’
    â€˜It depends if the water spout comes ashore as a tornado. In 2006 it didn’t.’
    â€˜But this time it did.’
    â€˜I believe so. The city got off lightly actually. If the water spout had come ashore near the West Pier, for instance, it could have finished off what remains of the structure.’
    â€˜People are saying it’s an end-of-the-world scenario – something biblical – but you’re giving us a relatively natural explanation.’
    â€˜End-of-the-world scenario? Isn’t that indicated by a plague of locusts? Aren’t frogs involved?’
    â€˜Andy, I can see you have the same grasp of the Bible as I do. If anybody does know, please call in. Andy, thank you. What’s the catch of the day?’
    â€˜Whatever you can scoop up off the street – there’s not much left in the sea for the moment.’
    â€˜Ha, ha. Indeed. Although, folks, you’ll need to fight off the flocks of seagulls roaming the streets of our fair city. Can a seagull roam, Ms Simpson?’
    Kate laughed. ‘With an ugly disposition and a beak that size it can do whatever the heck it wants.’
    Blake Hornby liked his job at the Brighton Museum and Gallery. Providing reception-cum-security wasn’t exactly arduous and there were pretty women to chat with who were serving in the shop along from his counter in the foyer. Not that he had any expectations with them. They were all educated and a bit posh and he’d left school at fifteen and couldn’t remember the last time he’d read a book. Nor was he a big fan of art, to tell the truth.
    There was some stuff in here he liked but most of it went right over his head. A lot of weird furniture. Good for a laugh but you wouldn’t want to sit in it or on it. The so-called ‘Mae West sofa’ made to look like a pair of red lips, for instance. An armchair in the shape of a baseball mitt. A big, solid, marble-topped table with some kind of animal paws for feet.
    He looked through the window to his left into the downstairs gallery. Somebody was bent over looking at those weird table legs now. The gallery was quiet but he liked the fact there were no kids rushing around. The mornings could be bedlam when the schools came in and the kids had sheets of paper with lists of things to find in the galleries.
    Rachel in the shop had come out from behind the till. She looked very trim in her scoop-top T-shirt, short black