Free Gunrunner by Graham Ison Page A

polishes everything, gathers up my abandoned clothing and puts my laundry in the washing machine, and irons my shirts. Gladys is an absolute gem, and I’d be completely lost without her. On this occasion, she had left one of her charming little notes on the kitchen worktop along with a small parcel that had been carefully wrapped in tissue paper:
    Dear Mr Brock,
    I found one or two of Miss Sutton’s bits and pieces lying about in the bedroom. I give them a wash for her and perhaps you’d let her have them back.
    Yours faithfully
    Gladys Gurney (Mrs)
    Carefully removing the tissue paper, I discovered one of Gail’s lacy bras and a thong. It’s a mystery to me how she manages to forget her underwear when she goes home.
    For one brief, impish moment, I was tempted to post them from central London with a note saying, ‘Thanks for a wonderful weekend,’ and signing it ‘Fred’, just to see her reaction, but I changed my mind and decided to deliver them personally. I cause Gail enough grief without going out of my way to antagonize her. I rang her to say that I was on my way.
    ‘Is the coast clear?’ I asked, when Gail opened the door. I handed her a bunch of flowers, but kept hold of the chilled bottle of champagne I’d had the foresight to bring with me.
    ‘Of course it is,’ said Gail. ‘You know Mum and Dad went back on Boxing Day. Are you going to open that?’ she asked, pointing at the champagne, ‘or is it just to look at?’
    We moved into the sitting room, and Gail produced a couple of champagne flutes. I poured the wine and we settled down.
    ‘Dad wanted to know if you’d proposed to me yet.’ Gail gave me one of her mischievous smiles.
    ‘ What? ’ I’d hoped that George wouldn’t raise the question with Gail.
    ‘You heard, lover. He wanted to know if you were going to make an honest woman of me.’
    ‘And what did you say?’
    ‘I told him that you hadn’t said a word about marriage, and that I was beginning to feel like a wronged woman.’
    I was completely taken aback at this turn in the conversation. ‘But we have discussed it.’ I was floundering now. ‘You always said that once was enough and that you were quite happy with our arrangement.’
    ‘Gotcha!’ Gail threw back her head and laughed at my embarrassment. ‘Well, I am, and that’s what I told him.’
    ‘Oh! That’s all right, then. And what did he say to that?’ I’d almost forgotten her propensity for teasing.
    ‘Nothing much.’ Gail held out her glass for a refill. ‘Apart from saying that he thought it was a bit unconventional.’
    ‘Really? I never took George for someone who was concerned about the proprieties.’
    ‘Don’t worry,’ said Gail laughing again. ‘Mum reminded him that they’d lived together for a few months before they were married. She told him that I was a big girl now, and that he was not to interfere. Dinner?’
    ‘Please.’ I stood up and followed my girlfriend downstairs to the dining room.
    As befitted Gail’s superb culinary skills, she produced an excellent meal. The roast beef was done to perfection, and the roast potatoes and steamed cauliflower, with a delicious sauce, were out of this world. The meal was accompanied by an expensive bottle of Malbec that Gail said was a gift from her father.
    ‘I do wish that murder wouldn’t keep me away from your cooking,’ I said, standing up to get the Armagnac. ‘I’m sick of grabbing a pie and a pint at the local pub.’
    ‘You should try going on the stage if you really want to know what it’s like to rough it,’ said Gail, as usual displaying no great sympathy for a policeman’s lot.
    I poured the brandy and placed a glass in front of her.
    ‘Bring it with you,’ said Gail, rising from the table and leading the way upstairs. All the way upstairs.

SIX
    I arrived at the office at nine o’clock on Monday morning. As was his invariable practice, the commander arrived on the stroke of ten. It was a habit that reminded me of the