REGINALD HILL
THE DEATH OF DALZIEL
A Dalziel and Pascoe novel
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Harper
An imprint of HarperCollins Publishers
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
www.harpercollins.co.uk
First published in Great Britain
by HarperCollinsPublishers 2007
Copyright © Reginald Hill 2007
Reginald Hill asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
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Source ISBN: 9780007313228
Ebook Edition © JULY 2015 ISBN: 9780007353590
Version: 2015-06-25
For the peacemakerswhichever god’s children they are
What, old acquaintance? Could not all this flesh Keep in a little life? Poor Jack, farewell…Death hath not struck so fat a deer today.
Shakespeare Henry IV Part 1, Act V scene iv
A Knight of the Temple who kills an evil man should not be condemned for killing the man but praised for killing the evil.
St Bernard of Clairvaux,
Liber ad milites Templi
Cover Page
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Epigraph
Part One
1 mill street
2 two mutton pasties and an almond slice
3 intimations
4 dust and ashes
5 the two Geoffreys
6 blue smartie
7 dancing with death
8 blame
Part Two
1 a tidy desk
2 show business
3 walking the dog
4 dead men don’t fart!
5 age of wonders
Part Three
1 Lubyanka
2 a pale horse
3 kaffee-klatsch
4 burglary
5 all the way home
6 an urban fox
7 Sauron’s eye
8 now it’s safe
Part Four
1 the shock of recognition
2 Rule Five
3 Hectoring
4 Troy
5 fiddle-de-dee
6 Kilda
7 in the mood
8 without fear or favour
9 the decisive moment
10 queen of the fête
11 forgotten dreams
12 the man of my dreams
13 no change
14 the tangle o’ the Isles
15 a shot in the dark
16 the word of an Englishman
Part Five
1 a free lunch
2 promotion
3 melodious twang
4 red mite and greenfly
5 no-name
6 wake-up call
7 safe house
8 to the castle
9 armour
10 mother love
11 a change of direction
12 prison
13 girls and boys
14 a wee deoch an doris
15 a call in the night
16 the full English
17 one last decision
Part Six
1 the very worst
2 wheel of fire
3 singles
4 snapshots
5 wedding gifts
6 hi-yo, Silver!
7 gatecrashers
8 it is written
Part Seven
1 the end
2 really the end
Keep Reading
About Reginald Hill
Acclaim for The Death of Dalziel
By Reginald Hill
About the Publisher
Some talk of ALEXANDERAnd some of HERCULES;Of HECTOR…
Anon, ‘The British Grenadiers’
never much of a street
west—the old wool mill a prison block in dry blood brick its staring windows now blinded by boards its clatter and chatter a distant echo through white haired heads
east—six narrow houses under one weary roof huddling against the high embankment that arrows southern trains into the city’s northern heart
few passengers ever notice Mill Street
never much of a street
in winter’s depth a cold crevassespring and autumn much the same
but occasionallyon a still summer day
with sun soaring high in a cloudless skyMill Street becomesdesert canyon overbrimming with heat
2 two mutton pasties and analmond slice
At least it gives me an excuse for sweating, thought Peter Pascoe as he scuttled towards the shelter of the first of the two cars parked across the road from Number 3.
‘You hurt your back?’ asked Detective Superintendent Andy Dalziel as his DCI slumped to the pavement beside him.
‘Sorry?’ panted Pascoe.
‘You were moving funny.’
‘I was taking precautions.’
‘Oh aye? I’d stick to the tablets. What the hell are you doing here anyway? Bank Holiday’s been cancelled, has it? Or are you just bunking off from weeding the garden?’
‘In fact I was sunbathing in it. Then Paddy Ireland rang and said there was a siege situation and you were a bit short on specialist manpower so could I help.’
‘Specialist? Didn’t know you were a marksman.’
Pascoe took a deep breath and wondered what kind of grinning God defied His own laws by allowing Dalziel’s fleshy folds, swaddled in a three-piece suit, to look so cool, while his own spare frame, clad in cotton jeans and a Leeds United T-shirt, was generating more heat than PM’s Question Time.
‘I’ve been on a Negotiator’s Course, remember?’ he said.
‘Thought that were to help you talk to Ellie. What did yon fusspot really say?’
The Fat Man was no great fan of Inspector Ireland, who he averred put the three effs in officious. If you took your cue and pointed out that the word only contained two, he’d tell you what the third one stood for.
If you didn’t take your cue, he usually told you anyway.
Pascoe on the other hand was a master of diplomatic reticence.
‘Not a lot,’ he said.
What Ireland had actually said was, ‘Sorry to interrupt your day off, Pete, but I thought you should know. Report of an armed man on premises in Mill Street. Number 3.’
Then a pause as if anticipating a response.
The only response Pascoe felt like giving was, Why the hell have I been dragged off my hammock for this?
He said, ‘Paddy, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m off duty today. Bank Holiday, remember? And Andy drew the short straw. Not his idea you rang, is it?’
‘Definitely not. It’s just that Number 3’s a video rental, Oroc Video, Asian and Arab stuff mainly…’
A faint bell began to ring in Pascoe’s mind.
‘Hang on. Isn’t it CAT flagged?’
‘Hooray. There is someone in CID who actually reads directives,’ said Ireland with heavy sarcasm.
CAT was the Combined Anti-Terrorism unit in which Special Branch officers worked alongside MI5 operatives. They flagged people and places on a sliding scale, the lowest level being premises not meriting formal surveillance but around which any unusual activity should be noted and notified.
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