The Ashes of an Oak Read Free Page A

a damn about the other. They just fed off each other and when the table was empty, moved onto some other poor bastard.
    He looked across the street and someone caught his eye. It was male, about six feet, white. He couldn’t see his face because he had a hat on, the brim pulled low over his eyes and casting a shadow over his face. He wore black shoes and a sharp dark grey suit. His legs crossed over at the ankles. He was relaxed. The man leaned against the wall, looking at the scene across the road from himself. He had one hand in his pocket while the other hung by his side.
    Frank stared at him. He wasn’t waiting for a ride; he would’ve been watching the road. He wasn’t outside a shop waiting for it to open. What the hell?
    ‘Jim,’ called Frank. Jim came over and followed Frank’s pointed finger. ‘You know that guy?’
    ‘Which guy, Frank?’
    The guy in the suit…’ He was gone. In as long as it took for a bus to go buy, the man had disappeared. ‘Never mind,’ said Frank.
    ‘Forensics are here,’ said Jim.
    ‘Okay.’ Frank stepped into the road and walked between the angry cars. He headed straight for where the man had been standing and looked at the ground. There was nothing. He stepped right and went into an alley. There was no one. He looked up at the fire escapes and strolled down passed some dumpsters. There were signs of humanity; needles and empty bags, candy wraps, food and discarded clothing, but there was no one down there.
    He came back out of the alley and walked back across the street.
    ‘Where’d you go?’ asked Steve.
    ‘Thought I saw someone.’
    ‘Who?’
    ‘Just some guy taking an interest, that’s all.’
    They walked back though the circle of vultures. Frank could smell the sweat on them. ‘Tanner,’ he pleaded. ‘Please, get these people out of here.’ Another unit pulled up. The uniforms got straight into the fray and started to move the crowd. He grabbed Steve’s arm. ‘Let’s go. There aren’t going to be any surprises here.’
    ‘Sure,’ said Steve.
    Frank took one more look across the road at where the man in the suit had been. The place seemed emptier without him, like something was missing.
    They climbed into the Plymouth and headed back to the precinct.
     
    ‘Hey, Sinatra. The Captain wants to see you.’ The desk sergeant, message delivered, went back to his work. His shirt was dark blue with sweat.
    Frank and Steve walked up the stairs to the second floor. The place was busy and twice as hot as when they left. Frank didn’t think it could smell any worse, but the stench was crushing. 
    Steve led the way. ‘Captain first then paperwork, okay?’
    He knocked on Captain Diehl’s door and they were beckoned in. They sat down while he finished on the phone. It always amazed Frank at how softly-spoken Emmet Diehl was. He never seemed to raise his voice or display anger in any way. It was almost as if he was happy to let the world talk and he would chip in at the first silence and see what happened after that.
    ‘What you got?’ asked Diehl.
    ‘Stabbing on Pitkin,’ said Frank. ‘Nasty.’
    ‘Any clues?’
    ‘Well, he was bleeding a lot.’
    Diehl looked wearily at the detective. ‘It’s very hot in here, Frank. Unlike you, I don’t have a window out of which I can throw myself to a quick and merciful death.’
    Frank crossed his legs and held up his hands. ‘Sorry, Em. Dead dealer. Robinson Taylor. He got opened up.’
    ‘Like a fish,’ added Steve.
    ‘So, I ask again,’ said Diehl. ‘Any clues?’
    ‘Nobody saw or heard anything,’ said Frank. ‘Those thousand people that walked past the body while it lay bleeding on the pavement didn’t even notice it. In fact, they didn’t notice it until the uniforms turned up. Then they couldn’t get enough of it.’
    ‘We asked around,’ said Steve in the hope that it would give Frank a chance to draw breath. ‘They were all sightseers. Jim Baker, the uniform, knew the deceased. He didn’t