Free The Price of Butcher's Meat by Reginald Hill

“My own initial connection with Third Thought was, I freely confess, based purely on self-interest. Then I had my own close encounter, and as I struggled to come to terms with my lot, my mind turned more and more frequently to Frère Jacques’s teachings, and I renewed my connection, but this time with genuine fervor. Eventually Jacques invited me to become a paid acolyte.”
    He glanced at me sort of assessingly, then leaned forward and said in a low voice, “It occurs to me, Mr. Dalziel, that after your own recent trauma, you yourself might be seeking a new philosophy of being…”
    The bugger were trying to convert me!
    I said, “If tha’s thinking of sending me a bill for this chat, lad, I’d advise thee to have third thoughts about it.”
    He laughed so loud the two women at the bar glanced our way, the old bird with a disapproving glower. Probably thought I’d just told a mucky joke.
    Roote settled down after a bit, supped his parrot piss, then said, “So how are you getting back up to the home?”
    â€œOn my own two feet if I have to,” I answered. “If you’re thinking of offering me a lift, I warn you, I’m not sitting on thy knee!”
    He grinned and said, “I’ll be delighted to take you back in my car, though I suspect it may not be necessary.”
    â€œWhy’s that?”
    He glanced at his watch. It looked expensive.
    â€œI suspect that within a few more minutes someone from the Avalon staff is going to arrive. They’ll order a drink, glance round, look surprised to see you, have a quick chat, finish their drink, head for the door, then as an afterthought say, ‘Would you care for a lift, Mr. Dalziel, or are you sorted?’”
    â€œWhat makes you think that?”
    â€œBecause not long after you arrived, Alan will have made a call to the Avalon in case they haven’t noticed one of their convies has gone missing. And he’s probably just been reassuring Lady Denham that she needn’t worry about you frightening off the more sensitive customers all afternoon as you’ll be out of here in ten minutes tops.”
    â€œWhy’d she be worried about that?” I asked.
    â€œBecause she owns the Hope and Anchor,” he said. “In fact, dear Lady Denham owns a great deal of real estate in and around Sandytown. I told you she was wealthy as well as healthy. Moby’s, however, where they are going to lunch, belongs to her dear friend Mr. Parker. She enjoys the food there but never goes unless someone else is paying, in this case her nephew, Teddy Denham, who can ill afford it.”
    â€œFor someone not interested in money, you’ve got a sharp eye for how other folk spend it,” I said.
    He said, “Only because as a disciple of Third Thought, I have a deep interest in the human condition. Doesn’t Paul tells us that the love of money is the root of all evil?”
    â€œPaul?” I said. “Thought that were one of Ringo’s. No, sorry, bit further back. Adam Faith, right?”
    Not often you can shut Roote up, but that did it.
    The women finished their drinks and slipped off their stools, the lass like a snowflake, the old lady like an avalanche.
    Clara gave a shy little wave as her aunt said, “Alan, perhaps my scatterbrained nephew has gone straight to Moby’s. If he does turn up here, tell him that’s where we will be. And don’t forget to get payment for our drinks. A gentleman does not invite guests and expect them to pay for themselves. Talking of money, these ideas you have about modernizingthe cellar, I think we really need to do an in-depth costing. I need quotations, not estimates. If I have time I’ll drop in later to take a closer look.”
    The landlord bowed his head deferentially, or mebbe he were worried in case his expression showed this weren’t the best news he’d had today!
    â€œOf course, Lady Denham,” he