BooksBarbecue
Back The Trickster
Chapters (74)
  1. The Trickster
  2. Copyright
  3. Dedication
  4. Contents
  5. Preface to the 20th anniversary edition
  6. Introduction
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. Keep Reading
  70. FURNACE
  71. Acknowledgements
  72. About the Author
  73. ALSO BY THE AUTHOR
  74. About the Publisher

Craig watched the sad dickhead leave, wondering why it was he managed to raise everybody’s hackles these days. It was easy to be nice. He needed to practise it more. He mussed his hair and walked to the duty board to see where Hawk was. He hadn’t been assigned, which looked like he hadn’t come in.

‘Holly. Where’s Hawk?’

‘Not in yet.’

‘Did he call?’

‘Nope.’

It was after two. Craig walked to Hawk’s desk and sat on the edge. There were three yellow post-it stickers from Holly on Daniel’s phone.

‘Dan. Phone Tess please. 9.05.’

‘Tess called again. Can you call her back? 11.30.’

‘Call your wife, asshole. She and Larry will be at Lizzy’s number after one, and she says put your answer phone on when you go out next time.’

A small alarm went off with Craig. Tiny, but insistent. Hawk wasn’t here, and he didn’t seem to be at home either.

Unless he wasn’t answering the phone. Of course the phones could be down with the storm and he might be snowed in. Unlikely. Hawk would get to work if you tied his ankles together and poured concrete in his boots. Snow wouldn’t stop him. Craig’s heart started to beat a little too fast.

Indian. He’s an Indian. Daniel Hawk is an Indian. Please God, no. Craig reined in his dark thoughts.

‘Lenny! Get a car up to Daniel Hawk’s place right now and get his ass in here. I need him.’

‘Right now?’

‘Right now.’

‘No free cars, sir. It’ll have to be highway patrol.’

‘I don’t care if it’s space patrol. Get him in here.’

‘It’s happening.’

Craig fingered a dumb plaster figure on Hawk’s desk that held two broken pencils and a thin felt-tip. It was a squat little man with crossed eyes, a lolling tongue and a bare belly, and a sign below him, mimicking a carving in stone, read, World’s Greatest Dad.

Craig looked at it like it would bite him, then got up and went back into his office.

Agnes Root was not dressed for the cold. Her cashmere sweater was letting the wind cut right through to her thin white body, and she cursed herself for being too lazy to go to the staff room and fetch her coat before she came outside. She stamped around on the top step, holding Billy’s hand, and peering through the small crowd of parents to try and make out Katie Hunt.

‘See her yet, Billy?’