watched.
Afterwards anything could happen.” Clara stretched one foot out and eased the
tight muscles in her calf, “It’s what I would do if I was in the authorities’ footsteps.
Keep a close watch until the prisoners were safely out of my jurisdiction.
After that it is someone else’s problem.”
Tommy considered this.
“The train is my only lead. If he boarded it I know he
was probably headed for London and I have a clue as to the next place he went.
If not I don’t know a thing.”
“Try the Liverpool police, someone was keeping records on
these men. If you find some people who knew your missing man they might be able
to offer you clues.”
“Maybe they would know why he vanished too. Thanks
Clara.”
“No problem.” Clara smiled, “Just don’t start usurping me
as a private detective.”
“Would I do that?”
“Once you have the use of your legs back there’ll be no
stopping you, I’ll have competition.”
Tommy made a snorting noise.
“I don’t think you need worry about that.”
“You are too negative Tommy, anything can happen.”
“I think you and that Dr Cutt have more hope than sense.”
Tommy rolled his eyes.
His sister just gave him a sad smile, and he turned his
head away. They both knew Tommy’s hope had been squashed down into a tiny,
tight little ball in the pit of his stomach, from where it rarely emerged.
“I’ll just have to hope for both of us.” Clara said
softly.
Tommy didn’t dare meet her eyes.
“You do that.”
Chapter Ten
Clara was not expecting to meet Oliver Bankes in the
police station, though admittedly, as a part-time police photographer, it was
always possible he would be there. It was the day after Mervin Grimes had gone
to the morgue and Clara had come to the police station to see if there was
anything in their records concerning Mervin Grimes. Or rather, she had come to
see if there was anything useful in their records, as she was confident they
had an extensive library on the activities of the Black Hand gang. She was surprised
to see Oliver in the entrance, not least because he tried to avoid her at
first.
“Oliver?”
He looked embarrassed. In another person Clara might have
called it ‘shifty’, but she preferred to be more generous with Oliver. She
hoped nothing was wrong.
“Has there been a crime committed you must photograph?”
She asked.
“Er, no. I’m not here on official business.” Oliver
shrugged his shoulders and avoided her eyes.
Clara found herself turning to the desk sergeant for
insight into the strange behaviour of Oliver Bankes.
“Mr Bankes, they will be releasing your father from the
cells shortly.” The desk sergeant said helpfully, pushing a paper bag across
his counter, “Here are your father’s belongings and his camera. You may
appreciate the used plates have been disposed of.”
“Thank you.” Oliver said through tight lips.
Now Clara was really curious.
“Oliver, what has happened? Is your father all right?”
“Just a misunderstanding.” Oliver shrugged his shoulders.
“That’s a funny way of saying he was taking inappropriate
pictures.” The desk sergeant was being far more helpful than usual and Clara
decided that whatever had happened had quite amused him.
“What has he done, Oliver?” Clara insisted.
“Really, it is nothing!” Oliver hissed.
“He was caught red-handed photographing those nude birds
at the fairground.” The desk sergeant announced rather loudly with a grin.
Oliver looked mortified and Clara felt sorry for him.
“Perhaps, like Colonel Brandt, he misread the sign over
the Exotic Birds’ tent. It is rather misleading.” She said, hoping her tact
would rub off on the sergeant.
“No Clara, he knew exactly what he was doing.” Oliver
groaned, “He had already taken six plates before the fairground manager caught
up with him. Some were apparently quite indecent.”
“Oh.” Clara was beginning to wish she had not skipped
breakfast to get to the police
Afterwards anything could happen.” Clara stretched one foot out and eased the
tight muscles in her calf, “It’s what I would do if I was in the authorities’ footsteps.
Keep a close watch until the prisoners were safely out of my jurisdiction.
After that it is someone else’s problem.”
Tommy considered this.
“The train is my only lead. If he boarded it I know he
was probably headed for London and I have a clue as to the next place he went.
If not I don’t know a thing.”
“Try the Liverpool police, someone was keeping records on
these men. If you find some people who knew your missing man they might be able
to offer you clues.”
“Maybe they would know why he vanished too. Thanks
Clara.”
“No problem.” Clara smiled, “Just don’t start usurping me
as a private detective.”
“Would I do that?”
“Once you have the use of your legs back there’ll be no
stopping you, I’ll have competition.”
Tommy made a snorting noise.
“I don’t think you need worry about that.”
“You are too negative Tommy, anything can happen.”
“I think you and that Dr Cutt have more hope than sense.”
Tommy rolled his eyes.
His sister just gave him a sad smile, and he turned his
head away. They both knew Tommy’s hope had been squashed down into a tiny,
tight little ball in the pit of his stomach, from where it rarely emerged.
“I’ll just have to hope for both of us.” Clara said
softly.
Tommy didn’t dare meet her eyes.
“You do that.”
Chapter Ten
Clara was not expecting to meet Oliver Bankes in the
police station, though admittedly, as a part-time police photographer, it was
always possible he would be there. It was the day after Mervin Grimes had gone
to the morgue and Clara had come to the police station to see if there was
anything in their records concerning Mervin Grimes. Or rather, she had come to
see if there was anything useful in their records, as she was confident they
had an extensive library on the activities of the Black Hand gang. She was surprised
to see Oliver in the entrance, not least because he tried to avoid her at
first.
“Oliver?”
He looked embarrassed. In another person Clara might have
called it ‘shifty’, but she preferred to be more generous with Oliver. She
hoped nothing was wrong.
“Has there been a crime committed you must photograph?”
She asked.
“Er, no. I’m not here on official business.” Oliver
shrugged his shoulders and avoided her eyes.
Clara found herself turning to the desk sergeant for
insight into the strange behaviour of Oliver Bankes.
“Mr Bankes, they will be releasing your father from the
cells shortly.” The desk sergeant said helpfully, pushing a paper bag across
his counter, “Here are your father’s belongings and his camera. You may
appreciate the used plates have been disposed of.”
“Thank you.” Oliver said through tight lips.
Now Clara was really curious.
“Oliver, what has happened? Is your father all right?”
“Just a misunderstanding.” Oliver shrugged his shoulders.
“That’s a funny way of saying he was taking inappropriate
pictures.” The desk sergeant was being far more helpful than usual and Clara
decided that whatever had happened had quite amused him.
“What has he done, Oliver?” Clara insisted.
“Really, it is nothing!” Oliver hissed.
“He was caught red-handed photographing those nude birds
at the fairground.” The desk sergeant announced rather loudly with a grin.
Oliver looked mortified and Clara felt sorry for him.
“Perhaps, like Colonel Brandt, he misread the sign over
the Exotic Birds’ tent. It is rather misleading.” She said, hoping her tact
would rub off on the sergeant.
“No Clara, he knew exactly what he was doing.” Oliver
groaned, “He had already taken six plates before the fairground manager caught
up with him. Some were apparently quite indecent.”
“Oh.” Clara was beginning to wish she had not skipped
breakfast to get to the police
Similar Books
