"Quintin, Jardine - Autographs in the Rain" - читать интересную книгу автора (Quintin Jardine)

Mcllhenney was unconvinced. 'Do that. By the way, what team do you
support?'

'Eh? Spurs, as it 'appens.'

'That's good . . . they got stuffed four-nil.'


10


'How long has your uncle lived here?' Sammy asked, as he drew up
alongside the neat bungalow, the last house in a leafy cul-de-sac.

'He and Aunt Cecily came to Cumbernauld from Glasgow when they
started to build the new town in the late fifties. They lived in a flat in an area
called Kildrum at first, then moved here, closer to the town centre. They
bought it from the Development Corporation about fifteen years ago, just
after it was refurbished. They got it for a song too, as sitting tenants.'

'Your aunt's no longer around, I take it?'

'No,' said Ruth. 'She died of a heart attack in 1986, a year after Uncle
John retired. He's been alone since then.'

'He'll be a fair age then?'

'He's just turned eighty. But he's very fit; he's been a member of Dullatur
Golf Club just about all his life. He plays just about every day, hail, rain or
shine. It's walking distance from the house.'

'What did he do for a living?'

'Something on the railways: in the office at the top of Buchanan Street,
in Glasgow. He retired on a good pension, so he's quite well off, especially
now that Auntie isn't here to help him spend his money.'

Sammy grinned. 'Are you looking out for your inheritance, then?'

She bridled at his joke. 'No, I am not! I may be the only blood relation
he's got left, but he could be leaving his money to the cat and dog home for
all I know ... or care. We're here today because I'm guilty, that's all. I
haven't seen him since his last birthday, in June, and that's not good enough.
He's an old man, he hardly drives any more, and apart from his golfing pals
he's all alone.'

'Come on, love. He must have neighbours who look in on him, or a
home help, or someone.'

'No, not him. He's a very private man. Always has been.'