‘If you think for one minute you are going up in t’loft, you can bloody well think again!’ Blundell shouted, standing on the top landing beneath the loft access hatch. ‘There’s nowt up there ‘cept spiders web, and the ceilings down here are dead liable to c***k if any bugger goes up there, them coppers clod feet’ll cause real damage,’ he added, nodding at the size 12 boots of PC Jackson.
‘If that’s all that concerns you, DS Deedes will go up there, won’t you, Ben?’
Ben Deedes was 5’9” with the slim build of an athlete who regularly ran the mile and 880 yards for the West Riding Constabulary athletics team in tournaments up and down the country.
‘The f**k he will, I tell thee, nob’dys going up there, you’ve done your search, found nowt and so you can all f**k off out of it now.’
‘What’v
