The Man Who Couldn't Lose Read Online Free

Mr Twelvetrees at the CPS, with my compliments.’
    â€˜Right, sir.’
    Ahmed picked up the box and went out.
    Gawber closed the door after him, then came up to the desk.
    Angel said, ‘You remember Mrs Buller-Price up at Tunistone?’
    â€˜Yes, of course.’
    â€˜She was burgled yesterday afternoon. Thief took mostly very nice pieces. In broad daylight. Nice-looking house in the middle of nowhere. Got in by a downstairs window. Minimal disturbance. No vehicle seen. Nothing seen. Who does that make you think of?’
    Gawber frowned for a moment then looked at Angel knowingly.
    â€˜Harry Hull.’
    Angel nodded in agreement.
    â€˜Is he out of Armley, yet?’
    â€˜I’ll find out, sir.’
    â€˜Talk to the probation office. They’ll have an address for him. And if he hasn’t a proper alibi, shake his place down thoroughly. He’s as sly as a fox. Once hid a solid gold cigarette case under his next-door neighbour’s baby. And go and see Mrs Buller-Price. Find out all you can. And get a fingerprint man up there, and be as quick as you can.’
    â€˜Right, sir,’ Gawber said, and made for the door.
    â€˜And he’d need transport. You’ll need to find how he got the stuff away.’
    â€˜In his pockets, I expect.’
    â€˜No. He also took a pot dog. A poodle. White. Called Fifi.’
    Gawber blinked.
    â€˜How big?’
    â€˜She said life-size.’
    â€˜What would it weigh, sir?’
    â€˜I don’t know,’ he said tetchily. ‘But more than he’d want to carry back to Bromersley under his arm, I expect.’
    Gawber nodded.
    The phone rang.
    Angel glanced at it and then back at Gawber.
    â€˜Well, crack on with it, Ron,’ he said impatiently.
    Gawber nodded and went out.
    Angel picked up the receiver.
    It was Detective Superintendent Harker.
    â€˜Yes, sir?’
    â€˜A body has been pulled out of the River Don under Town End Bridge,’ he growled. ‘SOCO’s been told. Get on to it. And don’t make a meal out of it. I’ve enough on with this H business. Uniformed has responded to a triple nine; John Weightman’s down there dealing with it.’
    There was a click and the phone went dead.
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    Angel saw a plain white van he recognized as SOCO’s, behind a Leeds Police Sub Aqua Squad 4 x 4 Range Rover, parked on Town End Bridge, a busy road over the River Don in the centre of Bromersley. Around forty people, some with bulging shopping bags, had congregated on the bridge and were peering over the wall at the activity below. He drove his BMW up to a few yards behind the white transit and parked. He stepped lively to the top of the steps that led down to the flagstone path running alongside the bank of the river. As he hurried down he saw four men in white paper suits hastily draping a small framework of plastic scaffolding with white sheeting to provide concealment around a body, which was on the path covered with a plastic sheet. At the bottom of the steps, big John Weightman was unrolling blue and white ‘POLICE DO NOT CROSS’ tape across them. He saw Angel approaching and lifted the tape to let him through.
    â€˜Ta. Now then, John. Everything all right?’
    Weightman saluted and said, ‘Good morning, sir. Yes.’ He nodded towards the activity a few yards beyond and pulled a face. ‘Nasty mess they’ve made of him.’
    Angel frowned and continued towards the scene of crime. A frogman leapt out of the water and began to undo the straps on his oxygen tank, while another man in a wet suit began unfastening a rope from around his waist.
    SOCO’s DS Taylor in whites, mask and rubber boots saw Angel approaching and came across to meet him.
    â€˜Good morning, sir.’
    Angel nodded.
    â€˜Now, Don, what you got?’
    Taylor pulled the mask down away from his mouth. ‘Young woman made a triple nine call, reported a body in the river at 8.50 this