(See 2nd May for Part 1)
Harrison finds it hard to keep up the pace. Unlike the dog,
who is more or less pulling him along.
Surely the lad will turn off at Lock 9 and head into town.
But no, he seems to be glued to the canalside. Although he glances back
briefly, perhaps sensing someone’s on his tail, there’s no sign of recognition.
But shortly afterwards, he comes to a halt, phone clamped to his ear. Harrison
puts the brakes on. The dog looks up at him, wondering why the game has come to
an abrupt stop.
“Are you Harrison?”
The dog barks. Harrison jumps. Where has this man in a grey
overcoat sprung from? He’s too breathless to reply.
“Well … are you?”
Harrison doesn’t like his tone. Like he’s got some right to
ask a stranger a question in the middle of nowhere. Or maybe not nowhere, but
nowhere special.
“Who are you?”
he manages, finally, turning to check what the lad is up to. But he’s
disappeared.
“You and your
stupid questions. I’ve lost him now!”
“No, you haven’t. He’s just gone into the
boaters’ shed. Let himself in with a key. We should join forces.”
Harrison looks at Overcoat, just as the sun breaks through,
causing him to squint and shade his eyes with a hand.
“Why are you
after him?” he asks.
“Just a sec mate.”
Overcoat’s attention switches to a barge chugging towards
the bank, seemingly propelled by a plume of smoke from the stove chimney. He signals
to the bargee – who waves back. The Fat Rascal slows. A rope is thrown. Tie
her up, Overcoat tells Harrison. He responds instinctively. A perfect
canalman’s hitch.
He can’t get his head around what’s happening. There are questions
he should ask, but somehow, he can’t raise the energy.
“The thief’s in
there,” Overcoat tells the bargee, pointing to the shed. “Might still have your
cash in his wallet. And with it being
one against three, he’s not going to put up a fight.”
“I’m after him
because of the body that was found,” Harrison says. “He’s bound to put up a
fight!”
“But they’ve already
caught the perp,” the bargee says. “Didn’t you hear?”
No! He’s heard nothing. Can it be true?
The bargee’s voice bears little resemblance to his frame. Hardly
more than a whisper for such a big man. Harrison wonders how exactly he fits
below deck.
“Let’s go and introduce
ourselves,” Overcoat says.
“But …” Finding he’s unable to continue his
objection, Harrison and the dog end up following the other two.
As a fully paid-up member of the narrow boat community, the
bargee has a key to the shed.
But there’s nobody inside.
“How did he
manage such a disappearing trick?” Overcoat asks.
“Ah, look! This place has a back door,” the bargee says.
Three bright-red, cupboards attract Harrison’s attention. He
tries the door knobs. The first two cupboards are locked. The third opens. He
recognises some of the contents as items that used to live on his barge … but says
nothing. Overcoat rummages through the shelves.
“No cash here,” he
says. “Blighter must have it on him.”
“More likely
spent it already,” the bargee says.
The shed back door opens suddenly. The lad’s returned with
reinforcements. Large and Larger. Harrison begins to shuffle back towards the entrance,
the dog keeping close to him. If he’s honest, the stuff in the cupboard hasn’t
really been missed. And he’s never been one for a fight. His suspicions regarding
the lad and the body will have to wait.
“How can we help
you gentlemen?” Overcoat says, clearly in no mood to beat a retreat.
The lad stares intently at him.
“By following
your lily-livered mate out of the door!” Larger has a voice that matches his
physique.
“Probation would
be interested to know you’re in breach of your bail conditions Sammy! Shall I
give them a ring?” Overcoat is obviously enjoying this.
Larger looks initially affronted. Then, suddenly subdued, he
slinks away, Large in tow.
“Right sunshine! Your
bodyguards have gone,” Overcoat says. “Give my friend his money back and we’ll
say no more about it.”
The lad continues to stare at Overcoat.
“It was you … wasn’t it? Yesterday evening. I
saw you … and the dead man.”
The Overcoat laughs.
“As I’ve just
told Harrison here, the police have already found the culprit. End of story!”
“Then the police
have got it wrong. I know what I saw.”
Harrison is worried. Very worried. Picking up on the
conviction in the lad’s voice and the fear in his eyes, he just wants to run
with the dog, back up the canalside, back to his barge.
But he knows he can’t.
Fingers to his mouth, a single sharp whistle and the dog pins
Overcoat up against the cupboard. Harrison glances at the lad, they nod and the
two of them go for the bargee. But he’s away through the open door before they can
reach him. A rapid exit for a big man. Still – the Fat Rascal won’t get
far!
Harrison makes the call. The lad tells the police what he
saw.
They’re relieved that it’s not long until the sirens are
heard.
