jaw. A torch shone, blinding me.
'Fewer shares see, Hymie?' I mumbled into the light coming from below.
Hymie stood in the longboat's main well, between two bunks. The cabin had shelves, a little shower, an oven, stove, a fridge. These irrelevant facts my idiotic brain noted down, for use in the Great Beyond.
'What's he saying, Honor?' Hymie asked.
'You're next, Honor,' I added, brain functioning at last. 'Where d'you think the lovely young Moiya December is? She's busy laying down an alibi for Dieter, her boyfriend.'
Honor kicked my side savagely. 'Do it, Dieter. Or give me the fucking gun.'
The light stilled. A roar almost took my head off. I saw a hole appear in Hymie's left eye. Something moist sounded, like a hideous gulp. He tried to speak, quite as if starting to explain something terribly complicated. He even raised his hand, the one with the flashlight so it shone up, making a gruesome All Hallows E'en mask of his face.
He rocked back. The light dowsed. I heard nothing, all sounds gone.
A gnat shrilled near me in Honor's voice, 'Do Lovejoy, then let's get the fuck out.'
'Why?' I croaked, sounding like a bassoon. 'I can be useful. I'll say, sign anything. My friends—'
Honor shrieked at that. Gluck's mad laughter shook the boat.
'Who particularly, Lovejoy? Name any ten. Name one!'
I struggled to think. Gaylord? Dosh Callaghan, who'd sent me on this wildgoose chase?
Sorbo? Like the rest of East Anglia, like London, they were all abed or swilling the last pints down their undeserving gullets while I suffered.
Bitterly I cursed the coast, its miserable selfish swinish inhabitants—
'Don't do that.' The quiet words took me by surprise. It seemed to come from the canal bridge, maybe twenty paces off. 'You're all under arrest.'
Saintly? I almost cried with relief, strove to stand. I cried, 'Yes, I surrender! I—'
'Do it, for fuck's sake!' Honor shouted. 'It's not the police! They can't do a fucking thing!'
Gluck shoved me to one side with a yell. His gun thumped the night, its momentary glare blinding me. I fell into the longboat cabin, the steps scraping my chin. Two more shots made me cower. A barmy image had me kicking the starter into action, steaming away from this fusilade, but I stayed true, curled under the bulwark, whimpering promises, begging for mercy. I'd no idea how long it went on, who fired, how many shots. I felt crazed. Somebody tumbled nearby and seemed to be trying to croak a message. There came a heavy slithery splash, took a long time about it.
Then nothing. I was scared to open my eyes. Who'd won?
'Lovejoy?'
Familiar? Familiar had meant lethal tonight. I opened my eyes. A dead face was inches away. I screeched, tried to kick the horrible blooded mess from me.
'It's all right, Lovejoy.' Mortimer? 'You're safe.'
I was still blubbering and puking. Mr. Hartson hauled me upright.
'Pull yourself together, man,' he said with disgust. 'You're not hurt, for God's sake. I had to do it. They shot at Mortimer.'
'Sorry.' My hands came free. I tried to be firm, stout of heart. 'I, ah, hope I distracted them enough for you.'
'Survey the canal, please, Mr Hartson,' Mortimer said. 'Take Jasper.'
Mr Hartson nodded and simply seemed to evaporate. Two flashlights lay on the deck.
Mortimer held another. He was calm, decisive. Who the hell did he take after? I wondered, narked. Certainly not me. But it had been me being murdered, and I'm not at my best then. Honor wasn't to be seen. Hymie and Gluck were dead on board, the latter curled impossibly by the stern. I tried not to look. I remembered that horrid long slow splash. Honor?
'What do we do, Mort?' I asked humbly.
'Check the shots have produced no response.' He surveyed the boat. 'You go to the hard. Wait there until dawn. Ask everybody who arrives or passes in the morning if they've seen anybody asking for you answering to Mr Gluck's description. They'll say no.'
I was lost. 'What if they say yes?'
His weary sigh sounded just like mine when I'm dealing with an idiot.
'They shall say no, Lovejoy.' Born in the north, I've never got the hang of shall and will, so took him on trust. 'Return to where you left this longboat, at the canal's end. By then, police and hullabaloo will be occurring. You act astonished, say you'd arranged to meet Gluck last night.'
Mr Hartson materialized. I wish he'd got a bloody bell round his neck.
'Nothing, Mortimer,' he said.
'You were the angler!' I said, the penny dropping.
'Angler?' they both said together.
'Must have imagined it.' By then I'd have believed anything and anyone. Even me.
'Look,' I said, chastened. 'Thank you. If it hadn't been—'
'Go now, Lovejoy,' Mr Hartson said. 'Take your torch. Proceed by way of the canal.
