Throw Him Away and Get a New One

Canning got up from behind his fine mahogany desk and walked to the window. “Is that your car down there, Mr Highsmith? The blue saloon?”

With a sinking feeling, Angus joined Canning at the window. He was not altogether surprised to see his car being lifted on to the back of a truck while the two men from the court looked on. “They can’t do that!” he protested.

“I’m afraid they can,” said Canning. “I see they’ve assigned Bateman and Redmond to your case. That’s a very bad sign.”

“Which one’s which?”

“Bateman’s the shorter one. You don’t want to be messing with him. He’s had four convictions for GBH. Come to that, don’t go upsetting Redmond either. It’s never been proven, but there’s every indication he murdered his own brother.”


Marcus Canning did not charge Angus for his time. On the contrary, he thrust a £20 note into Angus’s hand. “You’re going to need it, old chap,” he insisted. “From now on, take every scrap of kindness that comes your way.”

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