Down Among the Dead Men Read Free

grabbed the bag of gizmos and pushed it out of sight under the passenger seat.
    They were taking their time, probably checking over their radio that the car wasn’t on their list.
    Finally a figure appeared at the window. Heavy black moustache. “Evening, sir. Are you the owner of this car?”
    â€œI am.”
    â€œStep outside, please.”
    What was this? The breathalyser? He hadn’t finished his pint of real ale. He’d be well under the limit. “Is something up?”
    There was a second officer, a policewoman.
    The male cop said, “Place both hands flat against the car roof and stand with your legs apart. I’m going to search you.”
    â€œWhat for? I’ve done nothing wrong.” As he said the words, he thought of all the banknotes stuffed inside his pockets.
    He did as he was ordered and felt the hands travel down his body. What the fuck was he going to say?
    â€œWhat’s your name, sir?”
    â€œDaniel Stapleton.”
    â€œDate of birth, please.”
    â€œNinth of October, 1970.”
    â€œMind if I call you Daniel?”
    â€œDanny will do.”
    â€œWhat’s this in your pockets, Danny? Keep your hands exactly where they are.”
    â€œSome cash.”
    â€œQuite a lot of it, apparently. What’s all this money doing in your pockets?”
    â€œI, em, did some business. Cash transaction.”
    â€œWhat sort of business?”
    â€œIn Littlehampton. I sold a boat.”
    â€œIs that where you came from—Littlehampton?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAnd where are you travelling to?”
    â€œOnly Chichester. Bit of a night out.”
    â€œSpending all this money?”
    â€œNot all of it.”
    â€œYou said you own the car. It’s been reported as stolen. That’s why we stopped you.”
    â€œThis car? Stolen?” He was able to say the words with genuine disbelief. The young guy had disappeared across the footbridge. He’d been on his way somewhere. He couldn’t have returned so soon and got on to the police.
    â€œDo you have any proof of identity? Your licence?”
    â€œThat’s at home.”
    The search had been progressing down his body. “Do you normally keep banknotes in your socks?”
    The cop didn’t seem to expect an answer, so Danny didn’t attempt one.
    A large amount of cash might be suspicious, but it wasn’t necessarily illegal. They hadn’t found drugs or a weapon. They were probably disappointed. Danny was wondering if the comment about the stolen car had been a bluff.
    The cop said to his female colleague, “Let’s have a look in the boot, shall we?”
    Danny heard her open it.
    She said, “God help us.”

2
    Priory Park School, Chichester, September 2014
    â€œY ou won’t believe this,” Jem said.
    â€œTry me,” Ella said.
    â€œThe Gibbon has gone.”
    Shrieks of amazement and delight from the group. Miss Gibbon was the most disliked teacher on the staff. Her idea of teaching art was endless exercises in perspective.
    â€œGone where?” Ella said. Always primed for excitement, she was the perfect foil to Jem, the information gatherer.
    â€œI don’t give a toss where. Up her own vanishing point, for all I care. She didn’t tell anyone in the staffroom she was going at the end of last term. I expect the head knew, but none of the others did, so there wasn’t, like, a leaving present or a farewell drink or anything.”
    â€œWho cares? At last they found out she was a crap teacher. I still haven’t got the faintest idea what she meant by the golden mean and she never stopped talking about it.”
    â€œGolden section.”
    â€œGolden balls. Was she kicked out?”
    â€œA scandal? Touching up the year sevens?”
    â€œNot the Gibbon. She was sexless. More like pinching the art funds to go on those cultural cruises she was always on about,” Jem said, and her opinion