Body of a Girl by Michael Gilbert Page A

paid with a pound note and waved away the change. “Water or soda?”
    â€œI never touch the stuff,” said Mercer.
    On top of the beer the whisky slid down smoothly. Bull let a companionable minute tick by before he said, “And how are you finding Sinferry?”
    â€œIt’s an interesting sort of place,” said Mercer. “Full of characters.”
    â€œLike Sowthistle Hedges?”
    â€œNo. Not like Sowthistle. He’s unique, I should say.”
    â€œHe’s a free-wheeler,” said Bull. “Do you know, when he first came here, must have been more than thirty years ago, before he sank up to his neck into the shit, he was quite a boy. When the local council tried to make him pay rates he fought them through the Rating Tribunal and the High Court. Conducted his own case and won it. I believe it’s still the leading case on the difference between a house and a houseboat.”
    Mercer tried to visualise Sowthistle addressing the High Court and failed. He said, “Talking of characters, I met a real one today. Mr. Brattle.”
    â€œCharlie Brattle. One of the best. A warm man, too. That boathouse and the land round it has been in the Brattle family for a hundred years. I’m told that a firm of property developers offered him twenty thousand for it. They wanted to put up a river club complete with chalets. When he said ‘no’ they upped the offer to thirty thousand. He told them to go and jump in the river.”
    The landlord put his head round the door to say, “Any more orders?”
    â€œTwo more large whiskies,” said Mercer.
    â€œMake it four,” said Bull. “Save your legs. What were you talking to Brattle about? Don’t tell me he’d broken the law.”
    â€œCertainly not. I was looking for Prior’s place. He took me across in the punt.”
    â€œHenry Prior?”
    â€œThat’s right. Used to keep the Stoneferry Garage. Before he ran into that bit of trouble.”
    â€œHenry was all right,” said Bull. “We may have been cutting each other’s throats in business, but that didn’t stop me liking him personally.”
    â€œSo he told me.”
    â€œOh?”
    â€œAbout you buying his fixed equipment.”
    â€œIt was good stuff. More useful to me than the scrap dealers. If I’m just being bloody inquisitive, tell me to keep my trap shut, but why would old Henry Prior interest the police?”
    â€œAs a matter of fact, it’s something you might be able to help me on. Being in the same line of business. You remember the mechanic who caused all the trouble.”
    â€œTaylor.”
    â€œThat’s what he called himself. Did you, or any of your chaps, ever talk to him?”
    â€œI didn’t. They might have done. Why?”
    â€œI’d be very interested to know where he came from. In fact, I’d be interested in anything about his past at all. He’s such a shadowy figure. Comes from nowhere, wrecks the Stoneferry Central Garage, departs to nowhere.”
    â€œI could ask my boys. They’re bound to ask me why I want to know.”
    â€œTell them I’m a nosy bastard,” said Mercer. He sank back still more comfortably into the padded armchair.
    â€œI’d be telling ’em nothing but the truth at that,” said Bull with a grin which showed a set of sharp white teeth. “You are a nosy bastard.”
    â€œI’m interested in people,” said Mercer. The second whisky had followed the first, and his voice had a very slight slur to it. “In where they come from, and where they’re going to, and what makes them tick. And I’m interested in things that happen. When a lot of different things seem to be happening at the same place and the same time, I want to know whether it’s blind chance, or whether it’s cause and effect. Once, in London, I wanted to find out why a boy was late for school some mornings and not