Free The Blood Diamond by John Creasey

age.’
    â€˜For the Yard, maybe.’ Mannering drew him nearer. ‘Think about this suggestion, Inspector. I need a good man, to keep an eye on the shop and look after me when I’m carrying jewels all over the country. There’s a job waiting for you, for the asking. Of course, you may get better offers, but I hope not.’
    Tring hadn’t a word to say; just stared.
    â€˜Or if you prefer to wash up for your wife and grow cabbages, good luck to you,’ said Mannering. ‘You’d probably take to that better if you could pull off one big coup before you leave the force. You know, Inspector, this job may be your big chance. There’s nothing like ending a distinguished career in a blaze of glory, is there? You’ve got your teeth into this one, don’t let anyone take them out.’
    Tring said: ‘I’ve got my teeth in it, and in the right place.’
    â€˜Fine! If there’s anything I can do to help, just say the word.’
    Mannering pumped Tring’s arm, and went back upstairs.
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    Tring waited until the flat door had closed, then pushed his bowler hat back and ran a hand over his forehead. Slowly, he shook his head.
    â€˜You’re a caution,’ he confessed, sotto voce, ‘a proper caution. But you can’t pull the wool over my eyes. Corruption, that’s what it is – bribery. You’d better watch your step.’
    â€˜Did you speak, sir?’ asked a policeman.
    â€˜No, I didn’t!’
    â€˜Sorry, sir.’
    Bristow came down, and was morose on the way to the Yard.
    â€˜There’s one good thing out of this,’ said Tanker. “We can watch Quinn’s and watch this flat. Mannering won’t be able to make a move without being seen.’
    Bristow grunted.
    â€˜Aren’t I right?’ persisted Tring.
    â€˜We’ve watched him before.’
    â€˜He can’t always have the luck.’
    Bristow said: ‘Tanker, you’ve always made a big mistake about Mannering. You’ve put everything that he’s done down to luck. It isn’t luck. He’s got something which you and I haven’t got and can’t get. If you think we can stop Mannering from going on with this job, you’re wrong. He’s every right to investigate. He had the right before tonight, and it’s ten times stronger now. Don’t forget it.’
    â€˜He’ll slip up,’ said Tring stubbornly. ‘We’ll get him.’
    â€˜I’m worried about getting that killer,’ Bristow said, abruptly.
    They finished the journey in silence.
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    A light shone beneath the door of Bristow’s office when they reached it
    â€˜Go and make your report, will you?’ Bristow said.
    â€˜Yes, sir.’ Tring plodded off.
    Bristow went in. A lean-faced whippet of a man sat at his desk, smoking a pipe. His bright grey eyes sparkled, but good humouredly. He was Colonel Anderson-Kerr, Assistant Commissioner of the Criminal Investigation Department; a martinet.
    â€˜Hallo, sir. Don’t get up,’ Bristow greeted.
    â€˜Your chair,’ said the other. ‘What’s all this about losing one of our men?’
    â€˜True I’m afraid, sir.’
    â€˜Mannering have anything to do with it?’
    Anderson-Kerr knew what there was to know about Mannering, and accepted Bristow’s view that the Baron as a cracksman no longer existed.
    â€˜This is one job where Mannering can’t be blamed for probing on his own,’ Bristow said. He lit a cigarette and talked, at length. Finally, he said: ‘I don’t think he knows any more than he’s told me, and I don’t think wild horses would stop him from investigating.’
    â€˜Do you want to stop him?’
    Bristow gave a mirthless mile.
    â€˜I don’t I’d like to know more about the Adalgo business and I can’t think of a more likely man to find out than Mannering. He knows the trade inside out.