Read Black & Blue: Where it all began…… (D.S Hunter Kerr) for Free Online

Jud?”
    George spun around , his face displaying a mix of shock, surprise and amazement.
    He coughed a couple of times before replying, “Fucking hell young un’ you made me jump.”
    “What’re you up to?”
    “That’s a nice greeting. I’m not up to owt. Just doing my job that’s all.”
    Hunter took a few steps closer. Behind George he saw a wheelbarrow containing a couple of copper hot water cylinders. “What’re you doing with that lot?”
    “I’ve just said , doing my job.”
    Hunter scrutinised his face. “Explain.”
    “I’m on the security here. We’ve had a load of break-ins. Folks nicking the scrap. It’s my job to lock it in the compound for the night.” George pointed out metal mesh security fencing surrounding several Portakabins a hundred yards away. “It’s going in there.”
    Scrutinising the contents of the wheelbarrow Hunter checked his face again. George had a dead-pan look. “Okay, well make sure you do that.”
    George bent down and picked up the handles of the wheelbarrow. “Sure no problem.” Pushing the laden barrow in the direction of the builder’s compound he called back over his shoulder, “It’s good to see you around here, there’s no end of thieves about you know.”
    Watching Geor ge go Hunter couldn’t help but smile. He’s some need to talk, he thought, as he headed back to the street to finish off his house-to-house enquiries.
     
    - ooOoo –
     
     
     

     
    CHAPTER SEVEN
     
    Cradling a mug of steaming tea Hunter listened to the bulletins the sergeant was reading out at briefing. It was back to normal duties. He and Roger had completed their previous day’s house-to-house enquiries and had been released from the investigation. Hunter would have liked to have been involved longer but he had already been told that there was no chance of that unless he was part of CID, and as he watched his plain clothed counterparts go about their business he had already decided that’s what he wanted to do in the future.
    Suddenly, one of the pieces of information made his ears prick up.
    Sergeant Marrison read, “Report of theft of copper boilers last night from the houses being knocked down on Cadeby Terrace. The builders say it’s the third lot that’s been taken in the last ten days.” He looked up from the bulletin and cast his eyes upon the group. “I want scrap dealer checks done on your travels – see if anyone’s weighed them in.”
    Hunter didn’t hear any more. His heart was pounding so hard he feared it would burst from his chest. He scoured the faces of his colleagues hoping they had not latched on to his burning face. How could he have been so stupid? What had his tutor told him about George Hudson.
    His mind raced throughout the remainder of the briefing, only half-taking in what was being said while deciding what he should do. He had the semblance of a plan as it finished.
    Twenty minutes later, as he steamed towards George Hudson’s home, Hunter was a smouldering screwed-up ball of anger and by the time he reached the three-bedroom council house he was lathered with sweat.
    He rapped loudly.
    “Who is it?” a voice shouted from behind the half glass door.
    Hunter recognised George Hudson’s voice.
    “Police Jud! Open this door before I kick it in!”
    Less than ten seconds later George had flung open the door, cursing beneath his breath, hands pulling a leather belt tight around a pair of camouflage trousers. He had on a T-shirt and Hunter could see that George was a sinewy, wiry man.
    “Hey op young ‘un – is it a social visit? Shall I stick kettle on?”
    Hunter’s mind was screaming. He shot out a gloved covered hand, aiming an index finger at George’s chest like a pointed gun.”
    “You can get your coat on – you’re under arrest.”
    George took a step back. “Whoa! What’s up?”
    “You know what’s up. That gear I caught you barrowing last night was nicked from the old houses. You told me you were on the security there.