Death of a Bovver Boy

Death of a Bovver Boy Read Free

Book: Death of a Bovver Boy Read Free
Author: Leo Bruce
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amateur sometimes struck lucky but was usually to be dismissed as a nuisance.
    But Grimsby was young and, as he admitted to Carolus, had been put in charge of the investigation in this case, given for the first time the responsibility of clearing up what his superiors had called a ‘nasty mess’. He knew the reputation of Carolus and although he would not admit it had a half-mocking hope that Carolus would lean back in his chair, put his fingers together and proceed to solve the entire puzzle.
    That there was a puzzle, and that he was baffled by it, Grimsby admitted to himself, adding in his own mind that there could be no harm in hearing whatthat chap Deene had to say. Carolus, on his side, knew that only through Grimsby could he learn the essential facts of the case, the identity of the murdered boy and perhaps something of his associates.
    â€˜Oh yes, we know who he was all right,’ said Grimsby. ‘There’ll be no secret about it by tomorrow because we’ve given the name to the papers. The London Press aren’t interested and even our local newspapers don’t show much excitement. There’s been so much of this sort of thing lately, you see. The novelty has worn off.’
    â€˜But the puzzles remain?’
    â€˜That’s it. They do.’
    Carolus was silent for a moment then said, ‘Did you notice the dead boy’s wrists?’
    Grimsby looked disappointed. If this was all the famous Carolus Deene had to contribute it would not get him much farther.
    â€˜Yes. And his ankles,’ he said. ‘Been carried some distance on the pillion seat of a motor-cycle.’
    â€˜Dead or alive?’
    â€˜Either, as I see it. Probably dead. The boy came from Hartington. Father’s a foreman in a plastics factory.’
    â€˜So you think the boy was murdered, stripped, and dumped in that ditch?’
    â€˜Or vice versa. No idea yet. The doctor says he’d been dead for at least twenty-four hours when you found him. He could have been killed in Hartington on the Saturday afternoon, in fact, and brought across to Newminster, (that’s about thirty miles as you know) during the darkness of Saturday night.’
    â€˜His ankles tied to the footrests of a motor-cycle and his arms round the rider’s waist. Wearing a helmet and goggles, perhaps?’
    â€˜Yes. Obviously.’
    â€˜But dead?’
    â€˜Could be.’
    â€˜Why was he stripped then?’
    â€˜Identification, I suppose. Or at least to delay identification. Actually, we knew on the third day that a Hartington youth known as “Dutch” Carver had been missing since Saturday afternoon. So the delay wasn’t of much use, was it?’
    â€˜Not unless those two days were important to someone. They could have been.’
    Grimsby considered that.
    â€˜Yes. I suppose so. The boy was a greaser. Had hair down to his shoulder blades. That, as you know, had been roughly cut.’
    â€˜I saw that.’
    â€˜And that’s about as far as I’ve got. Obvious suspects are the skinheads of the town, particularly one group. Doesn’t it seem a bit fantastic to you in this day and age that our murder suspects are quite often teenagers? It sickens me.’
    â€˜Yes. How many of the group are there?’
    â€˜About a dozen. I’ve questioned four without much satisfaction. You understand of course, that this conversation is in the strictest confidence, don’t you?’
    â€˜Of course. I appreciate that. I’ll tell you what I’m considering. The facts begin to interest me and I think I’ll run over to Hartington. I don’t like the place, but it’s there that the core of this case would seem to lie. You needn’t be aware I’ve gone or show that you know me if we meet. I shall work on my own and if I get anything for you I’ll phone you here in Newminster.’
    â€˜Fine. I’ll expect to hear from you.’
    â€˜Don’t be

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