‘You keep your bloody paws off me,’ he said viciously. He turned, catching the punch that Brady flung at him on his left shoulder and, at the same moment, moved in close, raising a knee into the unprotected groin. As Brady doubled over, the knee swung into his face, lifting him back. For a moment, the big policeman poised there in the doorway, clawing at the wall for support and then he went backwards into the dark well of the staircase.

12

As the three men stood in shocked silence, crowding the doorway, there was a slight creak behind them and Ben Garvald emerged from the linen cupboard.

‘You’re getting careless in your old age, Fred.’ He shook his head. ‘Remember the eleventh commandment? Never do a copper for it shall be returned unto you an hundred-fold.’

He brushed past them and went down the stairs. Brady was lying on his back at the bottom, legs sprawled in an unnatural position on the stairs, head and shoulders jammed against the wall. Blood matted his hair, trickling down into his eyes and his head moved slightly.

Garvald turned and looked up at Manton who had paused six or seven steps from the bottom. ‘He doesn’t look too good, Fred. I wish you joy.’

He opened the door and went out in one quick motion. As it closed, Manton pulled Jango down beside him. ‘Get after him. Lose him and I’ll have your ears.’

The door opened and closed behind the Cypriot and Manton dropped to one knee beside Brady. The policeman opened his eyes and glared up at him. There was a strange, choking sound in his throat, blood trickled from his nostrils and his head lolled to one side.

‘My God, he’s croaked,’ Donner said in a whisper.

Manton got to his feet. ‘What a bloody mess.’

‘It was an accident,’ Donner said desperately. ‘He swung at me first. You saw.’

‘I can just see a judge and jury taking my word for that,’ Manton said bitterly. ‘Be your age, Donner. You’ve killed a copper and that’s a topping job.’

Donner pointed a shaking finger at him. ‘If I go, you go. We’re in this together, make no mistake about that.’

‘You don’t need to rub it in,’ Manton said. ‘Even if those swine up at the Town Hall couldn’t find any evidence to implicate me, they’d invent some.’

‘Then we’ve got to get rid of him,’ Donner said. ‘That stands to reason. What about dumping him in the canal off Grainger’s Wharf? That’s not far away.’

‘That would make it look more like murder than ever,’ Manton said. ‘It’s got to be cleverer than that. An accident, that’s what we want. A convenient accident. Hit and run, perhaps.’

Donner nodded eagerly. ‘That’s not bad. That’s not bad at all.’