The Witch Maker Read Online Free PDF

which managed to convey the impression that he didn’t set much store by that kind of formality.
    â€˜I don’t suppose you get many smart-arses from Headquarters up in this neck of the woods,’ Woodend said.
    The remark seemed to knock the constable completely off balance.
    Monika Paniatowski smiled to herself.
    This was classic Woodend, she thought. Bluff, open and unconventional – and all the more effective because, while it was true it was something of an act he was putting on, it was also – in essence – the
real
Charlie Woodend speaking.
    The constable was still searching for a response to Woodend’s unexpected remark.
    â€˜I ... er ...’ he began.
    Then he seemed to quite lose the will to continue.
    â€˜You’re a bit intimidated by it all,’ Woodend suggested. ‘Well, don’t worry about that, Constable Thwaites. If I was in your position, I’d feel exactly the same way.’
    â€˜Yes, sir,’ Thwaites replied dully, as if he didn’t know what was going on, but still felt he had to say
something
.
    â€˜The difference is, Thwaites, that unlike some of the other smart-arses they
might
have sent, I know when I’m out of my depth – an’ without your help, I’ll drown in this bloody village,’ Woodend concluded.
    It was at this point in Woodend’s act that the local constable usually started to realize that he wasn’t dealing with just another boss from Whitebridge, Paniatowski thought – this point at which his chest would start to swell slightly as he understood that there was a possibility that he, a mere hayseed, could actually be of real value to the investigation.
    But that wasn’t happening here! Rather than Woodend’s rough charm plumping up the constable’s self-esteem, it seemed to be throwing Thwaites into an even deeper panic.
    â€˜Local lad, are you?’ Woodend asked.
    â€˜Yes, I am.’
    â€˜Good. So you should know all there is to know about Hallerton.’
    â€˜I suppose I do, sir.’
    â€˜Then tell me about the Witch Makers. Are they always picked from the Dimdyke family?’
    â€˜Picked?’ Thwaites said. ‘What do you mean, sir, “picked”?’
    Woodend sighed. ‘Is the Witch Maker always a Dimdyke?’
    â€˜Well, yes,’ Thwaites said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
    â€˜So they’re a bit like a royal family, are they? The Witch Maker’s son automatically inherits the position, regardless of his ability?’
    â€˜The Witch Maker doesn’t have sons,’ Thwaites said. ‘Nor daughters, neither.’
    Woodend grinned. ‘How’s that managed?’ he wondered. ‘Do they cut his balls off when he takes on the job?’
    â€˜No!’ Thwaites said, clearly scandalized that Woodend could suggest such a thing even in jest. ‘It’s just that he never marries.’
    â€˜Never?’
    â€˜Never.’
    â€˜Not in the entire history of the Witch Burnin’?’
    â€˜No, sir.’
    â€˜An’ why’s that, pray tell?’
    â€˜He has no time for a family.’
    â€˜Oh, come on,’ Woodend scoffed. ‘I’m a chief inspector. Do you think I’m not busy? When I’m on a case I can work round the clock for weeks on end, but even I’ve found time for a family.’
    But had he really? he asked himself as he felt a sudden shudder pass through him. Certainly he had a wife and a daughter, but, given the pressures of his work, how much of a husband and father had he actually been?
    â€˜The Assistant Witch Maker starts learnin’ his craft when he’s ten years old,’ Thwaites said, his expression clearly indicating amazement that it was necessary to explain
any
of this.
    â€˜Go on,’ Woodend encouraged.
    â€˜He completes his apprenticeship at the time of the next Witch Burnin’, which is another ten years. Then the old Witch