Unlucky For Some Read Online Free PDF Page A

Sunday off.
    “Are you not coming in?” Waterman had asked, as he had got out of the car.
    “No,” Jack had said. “I’ve got something I want to do.”
    “Right—see you later.”
    Waterman Entertainment employed Jack as a fruit machine technician, and he knew most of the people who worked for Michael Waterman. He couldn’t warn the bingo club staff of their boss’ arrival, but he could at least tell Jerry Wheelan over at the Stars and Bars that he might be going to get a spot check.
    He could hear the voices of the people behind him in the narrow passage, their words carrying on the still, cold air. Stephen’s voice he’d recognized; the other evidently belonged to someone who had had a win at bingo.
    “I still can’t believe I won all that money. Four hundred and thirty pounds—it’s a fortune.”
    “It was a shame you had to share.”
    “Oh, no. It’s quite enough as it is. Why shouldn’t someone else be lucky too?”
    Stephen gave a snort. “Oh, like he needs the money,” he said.
    “Do you know him, then?”
    “He’s staying with us. But you know who he is, don’t you?”
    “Sort of. I know he’s on telly. He interviewed me—wanted to know why I play bingo all the time when I never win anything.”
    “Trust him to get half of it when you finally did get a decent win.”
    “Don’t you like him then?”
    “Not much. But you should see my mum—she can’t get over him staying in her pub. She’s all over him.”
    Jack slowed to a stop, not wanting to get out of earshot, and stood in the shadow of a pillar. He didn’t want them to see him, but he wanted very much to hear what Stephen had to say. Tony Baker thought he was God’s gift, and Grace Halliday was waiting on him hand and foot, which made matters worse. Jack hadn’t been too sure how Stephen felt about him, and he wanted to know.
    “Ah—is that why you don’t like him? Are you jealous?”
    “No! No. If she found someone she liked, I’d be happy for her. I just think he’s a bit full of himself, that’s all.”
    “Is it serious? Do you think you’ll be getting a stepdad?”
    “I don’t think so. He’s not a bit interested in her. But if you knew my mum—she doesn’t give up, so you never know. I hope not.”
    Jack didn’t listen to the rest of the conversation.
             
    “Kelly’s Eye to Charley Sierra.”
    “Charley Sierra receiving.”
    “We’re in position at the Candy Store.”
    The Candy Store was the code name for the premises they were watching, and Trainee Detective Constable Gary Sims watched as Detective Sergeant Kelly checked that the cameras, both video and still, were pointing directly at the front door of the block of flats across from the room that the observation team was currently occupying.
    Gary, on detachment to Force Drugs Squad, knew from previous observations just how mind-numbingly boring CID work could be, but there was something unusual about the sergeant’s manner on the radio, his almost obsessive checking that all the equipment was in working order, and that Gary and the others knew exactly what they had to do. Something was in the air.
    This one was going to be an all-nighter, but at least they were in a room in someone’s house—the last one had seen them all crammed into a van, which became less and less habitable as the night wore on. At least here they could stretch their legs from time to time, and use a regular toilet when required to do so. There had been a strange funnel arrangement rigged up in the van in order that no one had to leave it.
    And now that they were there, Kelly informed them that Operation Sweet Sixteen—so called because that was the average age of the people to whom the merchandise would ultimately be peddled—was about to achieve its objective. There were eight teams carrying out similar observations all over the city, and when they had recorded enough to prove that dealing was taking place, the raiding parties would go in and take out one