Only a Game Read Online Free Page A

pointing out that very soon now the hour would be changed and it would be light until after seven. Spring was surely at hand; old Harry offered them that thought as he gleefully pocketed the losers’ cash.
    They had tea in the clubhouse. It was only then that Peach learned that Harry had been a coroner’s officer for fifteen years before he retired. It was before Percy’s time in Brunton CID, but it gave them a common bond. It also allowed Harry to expand on the past, as men of his age normally love to do. Even after their two companions had drunk their quota and left, the two exchanged anecdotes about bodies and villains, and the various tricks which had come to light when subjected to the rigorous procedures of the Coroner’s Court.
    Percy stopped drinking after his quota, as he knew he must, but his new companion came from a generation which was dangerously relaxed about the dangers of drink and driving. Harry went on enjoying his victory and his companionship well beyond the legal limit. Moreover, he was a much-loved elder of the club, a member for forty years and a winner in his prime of numerous competitions. Two of his former course companions deposited whiskies at their table, which were downed with relish by old Harry.
    â€˜You can’t drive,’ said Percy, when he eventually prised him out of the bar and into the cloakroom.
    Harry urinated with a contented sigh and assured him with the inebriate’s confidence that he would ‘be all right’.
    Percy wasn’t having that. ‘You won’t. Even if you could drive, you’d be well over the limit. How would you get to the golf club if you lost your licence and couldn’t drive?’
    That harsh thought brought Harry up short, but by the time he left the golf club, he was still assuring his companion that he would drive carefully and wouldn’t be stopped. Percy was about to offer the final argument, the one no policemen wants to use because it draws attention to his calling. He would have to tell Harry that he mustn’t get into the driving seat of his car because a Detective Chief Inspector couldn’t stand by and watch the law being broken.
    Then fate intervened. As they went through the exit door of the clubhouse, the cold night air hit Harry and he reeled dramatically sideways until his hand fell upon the bonnet of a car and he steadied himself. ‘Perhapsh you’re right, Pershy,’ he said, slurring his words for the first time. ‘I’ll get a taxi.’ He swung round vaguely and almost fell over again.
    â€˜No need for that,’ said Percy resignedly. ‘I’ll run you home. You can get your wife to bring you back to collect your car tomorrow.’
    â€˜She’ll do that,’ said Harry with the wide affectionate smile of the sentimental drunk. ‘She’ll give me a bollocking for being pished, but she’ll run me up here tomorrow. She’s a good woman, but don’t tell her I shed so.’
    Percy had led him to his own car and opened the passenger door for him. He fell laughing on to the seat and said with apparent surprise, ‘You’re right you know, Pershy. I am a bit pished!’
    They had a mercifully quiet journey to his house. Percy realized after a couple of miles that the passenger he had fastened into his safety belt was fast asleep, with a smile on his face as innocent as a baby’s. He accepted Harry’s effusive thanks when he deposited him at his gate, watched his erratic progress until his wife opened the door and he lurched safely into his home.
    Harry hadn’t taken Peach very far out of his way, but he now had to drive back through the centre of Brunton to get to his ageing semi-detached house. He was negotiating the familiar labyrinth of the town’s one-way system when he came upon the incident.
    Three uniformed coppers and two gangs of youths. Whites and Asians; he knew that would be the case before he even looked at