Chapter Seven
A visit to the police – chance meeting – half a sovereign, wasted – advice from an unexpected quarter – Charlie makes a decision
“I’m looking for a man named Gruffydd Pritchard,” Gladys said.
“Oh, yus?” the sleepy-looking desk sergeant replied. “And why are you looking here?”
The police station was not busy. It was approaching lunchtime, and even criminals need to stop for a bight to eat. In the bare-walled front office were the desk sergeant and a surprisingly well-dressed young man with awful-looking whiskers who sat dozing on a long wooden bench. Other than that, there was nothing but a hatstand and bare walls in urgent need of fresh paint.
“Well, Gruffydd’s a drunk, ain’t he?” Gladys said. “I’m hoping that one of your lot arrested him, drunk and disorderly. If he’s t
