A Pinch of Snuff
‘Deplorably readable’ ObserverEveryone knew about the kind of films they showed at the Calliope Club – once the Residents’ Association and the local Women’s Group had given them some free publicity. But when Peter Pascoe’s dentist suggests that one film in particular is more than just good clean dirty fun, the inspector begins to make a few discreet inquiries. Before they bear fruit, though, the dentist has been accused of having sex with an underage patient, the cinema has been wrecked and its elderly owner murdered.Superintendent Dalziel expects no more from professional men who watch blue films. But Pascoe has a hunch that this time Dalziel is way off target…
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REGINALD HILL
A PINCH OF SNUFF
A Dalziel and Pascoe novel
Harper An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by
HarperCollinsPublishers 1978
Copyright © Reginald Hill 2003
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 9780586072509
Ebook Edition © July 2015 ISBN 9780007370269 Version: 2015-06-18
Contents
Copyright
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
About the Author
Also by the Author
About the Publisher
âIf you find you hate the idea of getting out of bed in the morning, think of it this way â itâs a manâs work Iâm getting up to do.â
MARCUS AURELIUS: Meditations
All right. All right! gasped Pascoe in his agony. Itâs June the sixth and itâs Normandy. The British Second Army under Montgomery will make its beachheads between Arromanches and Ouistreham while the Yanks hit the Cotentin peninsula. Then â¦
âThatâll do. Rinse. Just the filling to go in now. Thank you, Alison.â
He took the grey paste his assistant had prepared and began to fill the cavity. There wasnât much, Pascoe observed gloomily. The drilling couldnât have taken more than half a minute.
âWhat did I get this time?â asked Shorter, when heâd finished.
âThe lot. You could have had the key to Montyâs thunderbox if Iâd got it.â
âI obviously missed my calling,â said Shorter. âStill, itâs nice to share at least one of my patientsâ fantasies. I often wonder whatâs going on behind the blank stares. Alison, you can push off to lunch now, love. Back sharp at two, though. Itâs crazy afternoon.â
âWhatâs that?â asked Pascoe, standing up and fastening his shirt collar which he had always undone surreptitiously till he got on more familiar terms with Shorter.
âKids,â said Shorter. âAll ages. With mum and without. I donât know which is worse. Peter, can you spare a moment?â
Pascoe glanced at his watch.
âAs long as youâre not going to tell me Iâve got pyorrhoea.â
âItâs all those dirty words you use,â said Shorter. âCome into the office and have a mouthwash.â
Pascoe followed him across the vestibule of the old terraced house which had been converted into a surgery. The spring sunshine still had to pass through a stained-glass panel on the front door and it threw warm gules like bloodstains on to the cracked tiled floor.
There were three of them in the practice: MacCrystal, the senior partner, so senior he was almost invisible; Ms Lacewing, early twenties, newly qualified, an advanced thinker; and Shorter himself. He was in his late thirties but it didnât show except at the neck. His hair was thick and black and he was as lean and muscular as a fit twenty-year-old. Pascoe who was a handful of years younger indulged his resentment at the other manâs youthfulness by never mentioning it. Over the long period during which he had been a patient, a pleasant first name relationship had developed between the men. They had shared their fantasy fears about each otherâs professions and Pascoeâs revelation of his Gestapo-torture confessions under the drill had given them a running joke, though it had not yet run them closer together than sharing a table if they met in a pub or restaurant.
Perhaps, thought Pascoe as he watched Shorter pouring a stiff gin and tonic, perhaps heâs going to invite me and Ellie to his twenty-first party. Or sell us a ticket to the dentistsâ ball. Or ask me to fix a parking ticket.
And then the afterthought: what a lovely friend I make!
He took his drink and waited before sipping it, as though that would commit him to something.
