The Garden Party Read Online Free PDF Page B

opened his notebook.
    â€˜Yes.’ Cole continued to stroke his beard slowly and rhythmi-cally. ‘Des . . . Desmond Holst . . . Gordon, he was Gordon Owens . . . cocky little Londoner despite his Welsh name. Who else did I say?’
    â€˜Keith,’ Ainsclough reminded Cole, ‘Keith someone.’
    â€˜Keith . . . Keith Barnes, London bloke with a London name; all good, steady workers.’
    â€˜Where can we contact them?’
    â€˜In the wind, mate –’ Cole made a sweeping gesture with the opened palm of his right hand – ‘in the wind. They’re out there somewhere. You see, that’s the way it is in the building trade; it’s all down to word of mouth. When a builder is setting on he’ll put the word out and blokes who are not working will get in touch, and if they are good workers they’ll be set on. So when I got the job of rebuilding the wall I put the word out that I wanted three trowels . . . but careful trowels, because it was a delicate job. That same day I got phone calls . . . and I was looking for blokes who were painstaking, not slap dash. If it was a demolition job that would be different, builders do demolish you know, but anyway we got the trowels we wanted within two days.’
    â€˜I see.’ Yewdall enjoyed a blackbird’s sudden burst of song. ‘So you and your brother and Messrs Holst, Owens and Barnes did the job?’
    â€˜Yes.’ Cole nodded. ‘Just the five of us.’
    â€˜We are in fact more interested in the rebuilding,’ Yewdall probed, ‘who did that?’
    â€˜Me and Des,’ Cole replied matter of factly, ‘me and Des.’
    â€˜Just the two of you? You and Desmond Holst?’ Ainsclough clarified.
    â€˜Yes,’ Roy Cole replied slowly. ‘I remember we got a big job that we knew was coming up and we wanted it bad . . . building a repair garage. We needed ten trowels for it, so Tony got on with that, leaving me and Des to rebuild the wall, and once or twice Des was by himself if Tony wanted an extra trowel on the garage just to get well on top of that job.’
    â€˜So,’ Yewdall asked, ‘tell us where in the wind might we find Desmond Holst?’
    â€˜Well, if he’s still with us he’ll be in his local, but I did hear that he took badly with pneumonia . . . hospital job . . . isolation ward . . . draining stuff from his lungs. A very bad way they said, so he might have gone before, as my old granddad used to say.’
    â€˜Fair enough,’ Yewdall replied, ‘we can but ask. Which is his local or which was his local?’
    â€˜The Neptune, Seven Kings High Road, near Goodmayes Railway Station.’
    â€˜Observations,’ Yewdall asked, driving the car at a steady speed in a southerly direction towards London and towards Seven Kings in particular, ‘observations and impressions?’
    â€˜Of Roy Cole?’
    â€˜Yes . . . and of Alexander Montgomery.’
    â€˜Well.’ Ainsclough looked straight ahead. ‘Confess I was surprised and disappointed for Roy Cole. A retired builder should have ended up with more than a run down little bungalow to show for a lifetime of self-employment in the building trade.’
    â€˜Yes, I felt the same,’ Yewdall replied.
    â€˜And he was relieved when he found we wanted to talk about the building of the wall. Something was bothering him but he doesn’t have form written on him.’
    â€˜His brother in Spain, possibly he nicked all the money . . . ran off with the family silver and doesn’t want the police involved.’ Yewdall kept her eyes focussed on the road.
    â€˜Possibly, but you know there’s Spain and there’s Spain.’ Ainsclough glanced briefly to his left at the vast hole that was the clay quarry. ‘I went to Benidorm once, for my sins, never again I tell you. Anyway, I soon got tired of the glittery seafront development and went walking behind the