Dialogues of the Dead

25 from the fact, of course, that Miss Ripley started doing the pro gramme only seven months ago?' 'Aye, it could be significant,' said Dalziel grimly. 'Maybe she's just good at her job,' said Pascoe. 'And surely it's no bad thing for the world to know we're not getting a replace ment DI for George? Perhaps we should use her instead of getting our knickers in a twist.' 'You don't use a rat,' said Dalziel. 'You block up the hole it's feeding through. And I've got a bloody good idea where to find this hole.' Pascoe and Wield exchanged glances. They knew where the Fat Man's suspicions lay, knew the significance he put on the period of six months. This was just about the length of time Mid-Yorkshire CID's newest recruit, Detective Constable Bowler, had been on the team. Bowler - known to his friends as Hat and to his arch-foe as Boiler, Boghead, Bowels or any other pejorative variation which occurred to him - had started with the heavy handicap of being a fast-track graduate, on transfer from the Midlands without Dalziel's opinion being sought or his approval solicited. The Fat Man was Argos-eyed in Mid-Yorkshire and a report that the new DC had been spotted having a drink with Jacqueline Ripley not long after his arrival had been filed away till the first of the items which had seen her re-christened Jax the Ripper had appeared. Since then Bowler had been given the status of man-most-likely, but nothing had yet been proved, which, to Pascoe at least, knowing how close a surveillance was being kept, suggested he was innocent. But he knew better than to oppose a Dalzielesque obsession. Also, the Fat Man had a habit of being right. He said brightly, 'Well, I suppose we'd better go and solve some crimes in case there's a hidden camera watching us. Thank you both for your input on my little problem.' 'What? Oh, that,' said Dalziel dismissively. 'Seems to me the only problem you've got is knowing whether you've really got a problem.' 'Oh yes, I'm certain of that. I think I've got the same problem Hector was faced with last year.' 'Eh?' said Dalziel, puzzled by this reference to Mid-Yorkshire's most famously incompetent constable. 'Remind me.' 'Don't you remember? He went into that warehouse to investiate a possible intruder. There was a guard dog, big Ridgeback I think, lying down just inside the doorway.' 'Oh yes, I recall. Hector had to pass it. And he didn't know if it was dead, drugged, sleeping or just playing doggo, waiting to pounce, that was his problem, right?' 'No,' said Pascoe. 'He gave it a kick to find out. And it opened its eyes. That was his problem.'

27 Chapter Four

THE SECOND DIALOGUE

It's me again. How's it going?

Remember our riddles? Here's a new one.

One for the living, one for the dead, Out on the moor I -wind about Nor rhyme nor reason in my head Yet reasons I have -without a doubt.

Deep printed on the yielding land Each zig and zag makes perfect sense To those who recognize the hand Of nature's clerk experience.

This tracks a chasm deep and wide, That skirts a bog, this finds a ford, And men have suffered, men have died, To learn this wisdom of my Word- - That seeming right is sometimes wrong And even on the clearest days The shortest way may still be long, The straightest line may form a maze.

What am I? You were always a smart dog at a riddle! I've been thinking a lot about paths lately, the paths of the living, the paths of the dead, how maybe there's only one path, and I have set my foot upon it. 1 -was pretty busy for a few days after my Great Adventure began, so I had little chance to mark its beginning by any kind of celebration. But as the weekend approached, I felt an urge to do something different, a little special. And 1 recalled my cheerful AA man telling me how chuffed he'd been on his return from Corfu to discover that a new Greek restaurant had just opened in town. 'In Cradle Street, the Tavema,' he said. 'Good nosh and there's a courtyard out back where they've got tables and parasols. Of course, it's not like sitting outside in Corfu, but on a fine evening with the sun shining and the waiters running around in costume, and this chap twanging away on one of them Greek banjos, you can close your eyes and imagine you're back in the Med.' It was really nice to hear someone being so enthusiastic about foreign travel and food and everything. Most Brits tend to go abroad just for the sake of confirming their superiority to everyone else in the world.