suddenly alert.
'You mean, has he been in trouble? No, there's no way out for your mate there. Burkill's not a good man to antagonize, but he's honest, industrious and well thought of. He runs the shop floor at Blengdale's like a Panzer division. No half-baked union disputes there about who turns what screw. No, you do what Burkill says or you sling your hook.'
'Is that where you know him from?' asked Pascoe.
'Not me,' said Dalziel. 'I've nowt to do with Blengdale's. No, Bri's other great interest is Westgate Social Club. He's lived on the estate for years, helped build the Club up from scratch and he's been concert secretary there as long as I can remember. I've done a bit of drinking there in my time, that's how I know him. No West End finesse, but by God, the buggers who perform there know they'd best put on a good turn, else they won't get paid! I'll have a word with him now. I speak the same language.'
'I'll get out of your way then,' said Pascoe rather sulkily.
'What the hell for?'
'Well, you said you didn't want me involved on the case.'
'I don't want you talking to Burkill or Shorter, get that clear. But there's no reason why you should be sitting on your arse in the office while I'm stuck down here. No, you go and sort out that Heppelwhite pair, get their version of things.'
'Burkill won't like me interrogating his mates.'
Dalziel's face was as heavy and ugly as a slag heap.
'No one tells me who I can or can't use on a case, Inspector. No bloody one. Now jump to it and we'll see if we can't get round one over before closing time!'
Constable Palmer was in such earnest conversation with the Heppelwhites that he didn't hear Pascoe open the door.
'There was a case up in Middlesbrough last month,' he was saying. 'Same thing. Only he were a teacher. Suspended sentence. No wonder someone thumps them!'
'You reckon we'll be OK then?' said Charlie Heppelwhite.
'Bound to be. He'll not want the publicity. Anyway, go for a jury if it comes to a case. You're entitled, and there's not a family man in this town but'd applaud you.'
'Palmer!' said Pascoe.
'Sir.'
'Step outside for a moment.'
Pascoe heard himself reprimanding the constable with an ironic awareness of the parallels between this scene and his own recent interview with Dalziel.
Palmer was obviously unrepentant.
'Sorry, sir,' he said, 'but I've got two little girls of my own.'
'Proud of their dad?'
'I hope so, sir.'
'Then you'd better learn to follow instructions, else they'll be wondering why daddy's spending so much time at home.'
Palmer's face set with resentment but he said nothing in reply and Pascoe dismissed him, feeling full of guilt at uttering such a Dalzielesque authoritarian threat.
He spoke to the Heppelwhites separately. The father, though he expressed the feeling that scourging was too good for a man like Shorter, obviously had considerable reservations about the whole business.
'I didn't want to come here,' he said. 'But he were set on it, so I thought it best to come with him. Bri's a hard man when he wants. And our Clint's got a temper.'
Pascoe regarded his thin earnest face and groaned inwardly. Here was someone else whose route to the punch-up was paved with good intentions.
'Who threw the first punch?' he asked.
Heppelwhite thought carefully.
'I don't rightly know,' he said in the end. 'The dentist waved his arms about, you know, going shoo! shoo! like we were a lot of sheep. Clint grabbed one of his arms, just to restrain him a bit, and the fellow called Clint a smelly yobbo, some such thing. Then Clint pushed him in the chest.'
'Punched or pushed?'
Heppelwhite hesitated.
'A bit of both,' he admitted. 'He swung at Clint and next thing Bri was banging away at him.'
'And you?'
'I don't know. I just found myself going through the motions. Down our way, you don't hang around when your mate's in a fight.'
'You could have tried to stop it.'
'Last fellow I saw try to stop Bri in a fight got a busted nose,' said
'You mean, has he been in trouble? No, there's no way out for your mate there. Burkill's not a good man to antagonize, but he's honest, industrious and well thought of. He runs the shop floor at Blengdale's like a Panzer division. No half-baked union disputes there about who turns what screw. No, you do what Burkill says or you sling your hook.'
'Is that where you know him from?' asked Pascoe.
'Not me,' said Dalziel. 'I've nowt to do with Blengdale's. No, Bri's other great interest is Westgate Social Club. He's lived on the estate for years, helped build the Club up from scratch and he's been concert secretary there as long as I can remember. I've done a bit of drinking there in my time, that's how I know him. No West End finesse, but by God, the buggers who perform there know they'd best put on a good turn, else they won't get paid! I'll have a word with him now. I speak the same language.'
'I'll get out of your way then,' said Pascoe rather sulkily.
'What the hell for?'
'Well, you said you didn't want me involved on the case.'
'I don't want you talking to Burkill or Shorter, get that clear. But there's no reason why you should be sitting on your arse in the office while I'm stuck down here. No, you go and sort out that Heppelwhite pair, get their version of things.'
'Burkill won't like me interrogating his mates.'
Dalziel's face was as heavy and ugly as a slag heap.
'No one tells me who I can or can't use on a case, Inspector. No bloody one. Now jump to it and we'll see if we can't get round one over before closing time!'
Constable Palmer was in such earnest conversation with the Heppelwhites that he didn't hear Pascoe open the door.
'There was a case up in Middlesbrough last month,' he was saying. 'Same thing. Only he were a teacher. Suspended sentence. No wonder someone thumps them!'
'You reckon we'll be OK then?' said Charlie Heppelwhite.
'Bound to be. He'll not want the publicity. Anyway, go for a jury if it comes to a case. You're entitled, and there's not a family man in this town but'd applaud you.'
'Palmer!' said Pascoe.
'Sir.'
'Step outside for a moment.'
Pascoe heard himself reprimanding the constable with an ironic awareness of the parallels between this scene and his own recent interview with Dalziel.
Palmer was obviously unrepentant.
'Sorry, sir,' he said, 'but I've got two little girls of my own.'
'Proud of their dad?'
'I hope so, sir.'
'Then you'd better learn to follow instructions, else they'll be wondering why daddy's spending so much time at home.'
Palmer's face set with resentment but he said nothing in reply and Pascoe dismissed him, feeling full of guilt at uttering such a Dalzielesque authoritarian threat.
He spoke to the Heppelwhites separately. The father, though he expressed the feeling that scourging was too good for a man like Shorter, obviously had considerable reservations about the whole business.
'I didn't want to come here,' he said. 'But he were set on it, so I thought it best to come with him. Bri's a hard man when he wants. And our Clint's got a temper.'
Pascoe regarded his thin earnest face and groaned inwardly. Here was someone else whose route to the punch-up was paved with good intentions.
'Who threw the first punch?' he asked.
Heppelwhite thought carefully.
'I don't rightly know,' he said in the end. 'The dentist waved his arms about, you know, going shoo! shoo! like we were a lot of sheep. Clint grabbed one of his arms, just to restrain him a bit, and the fellow called Clint a smelly yobbo, some such thing. Then Clint pushed him in the chest.'
'Punched or pushed?'
Heppelwhite hesitated.
'A bit of both,' he admitted. 'He swung at Clint and next thing Bri was banging away at him.'
'And you?'
'I don't know. I just found myself going through the motions. Down our way, you don't hang around when your mate's in a fight.'
'You could have tried to stop it.'
'Last fellow I saw try to stop Bri in a fight got a busted nose,' said
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