The Sleepers of Erin

The Sleepers of Erin by Jonathan Gash Page A

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Authors: Jonathan Gash
Tags: Mystery
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these seams right, Joxer,’ I lectured sadly. ‘Genuine Sheffield plate has seams. Electroplated stuff is uniformly coated pure silver. How many times do I have to tell you to follow the seams when you do
cuivre argenté
?’
    ‘What’s up, Lovejoy?’ He was scared, which was fine by me, because I was in a temper.
    ‘People say French plating’s only good enough to repair Sheffield plate worn down to the copper, Joxer.’ I snuffed the bunsen and slung a hammer into the plank wall beside his head. He yelped and jumped. ‘About a certain church at Fingringhoe, Joxer.’
    He licked his lips, looking at the door. ‘What about it, Lovejoy?’
    ‘Poor Clarkie and poor Sam. Make sure you send flowers.’
    His shoulders sagged in surrender. He’s not daft. ‘I knowed it was you did them over, Lovejoy. Only you could be that cruel.’
    ‘
Me?
’ I’m honestly astonished by this kind of accusation. No other antique dealer contributes to the Lifeboats Appeal like I do. And it’s always other people force me into violence. If only everybody would leave me alone I’d be an angel.
    ‘Yes, you.’ He righted the stool and lit a rolled fag. ‘I told them to look for somebody else, only they were hooked on this Kilfinney thing.’ He gave a wry wink at me. ‘A Dun Laoghaire man helping those Limerick people’s a terrible thing, Lovejoy.’
    ‘Really?’ I said politely. For me these places might as well be on Saturn.
    ‘It was a woman and a man. Rich, Rolls motor, the lot. She’s boss, I think. Called him Kurt, talked like Froggies in some language to each other. Hardly any accent.’ He blew smoke. ‘It had to be Fingringhoe, that church, that day, that hour. They wouldn’t say why. I’m no cloth-job man. You know that, Lovejoy. Clarkie jumped at it for forty quid.’
    Which sounded like the Heindricks all right. The top silver leaf lifted gently on the bench beside me, which meant that somebody with the strength to lift the creaky door into silence as it opened was coming in behind me. I saw Joxer hide a smile in his glance at me, and smiled openly back, which meant he knew I knew he knew about that somebody.
    ‘Wotcher, Kurak,’ I said without turning round. ‘You touch me and so help me I’ll do the opposite of what you want. Otherwise, I’ll come quietly.’
    ‘He means it, sor,’ Joxer said quietly towards the door.
    The door groaned as the giant bloke let it go. ‘Then come,’ he growled.
    ‘Say please,’ I said, still not looking. My spine felt crinkled.
    After a silence, ‘Please,’ landed across my shoulder like a cross.
    ‘Certainly,’ I said. ‘Cheers, Joxer.’
    I was to remember what happened next for a long, long time.
    Suddenly Joxer said, ‘Lovejoy. Can’t you watch a minute with me?’ He’d gone quite pale, as if realizing something horrible.
    ‘No,’ I told him. I was in enough trouble, and he’d done me no favours. His expression was abruptly that of a man looking at the end of the world.
    ‘Cheers, boyo,’ Joxer said. His voice was fatalistic but quite level.
    If I were not so thick I’d have expected trouble of the very worst kind. But I
am
so thick. So cheerfully I walked with Kurak up to the street, waved to Marcia among Jimmy Day’s acting crowd, and was driven off in grand style.
    That’s how wars begin, by not thinking. My kind, that is.

Chapter 7
    The Heindricks’ house was even more imposing than their motors. It stood overlooking the Blackwater estuary. The gardens had that scrubbed look which only a battalion of dedicated gardeners can give, and the drawing room where we sat had that radiance which unlimited wealth imparts.
    ‘You travel in four days, Lovejoy.’ Kurt could have been one of his own antiques, he was that polished. He was clearly monarch of all he surveyed, and possibly of everything else as well. Standing before his log fire and issuing directives, he caused a weary sinking feeling in my belly. All my life these bloody people have been

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