Death On the Eleventh Hole
“The big, shabby house was in the red-light district and he was glad that it was daylight now. He was relieved also as he went into the place that he was in plain clothes. The people he saw moving about in the place were the sort who would have shown instant hostility to a police uniform.
It was easy enough to distinguish the voluntary helpers from the clients the place was trying to help. An elderly woman was listening patiently to a white-faced, shifty-looking man who was almost six feet t...all and looked as if he weighed less than nine stones. She directed Rushton to Father Gillespie’s room without a curious glance and turned back to the man who looked as if he would not live out the year.
The inspector found the priest kneeling in prayer with an emaciated girl, who was probably eighteen but looked fourteen. Rushton stood awkwardly outside the open door until they had finished. Father Gillespie must have been aware of him, but he did not divert his attention from the girl.MoreLess
It was easy enough to distinguish the voluntary helpers from the clients the place was trying to help. An elderly woman was listening patiently to a white-faced, shifty-looking man who was almost six feet t...all and looked as if he weighed less than nine stones. She directed Rushton to Father Gillespie’s room without a curious glance and turned back to the man who looked as if he would not live out the year.
The inspector found the priest kneeling in prayer with an emaciated girl, who was probably eighteen but looked fourteen. Rushton stood awkwardly outside the open door until they had finished. Father Gillespie must have been aware of him, but he did not divert his attention from the girl.MoreLess
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