DI Jack Frost 02 - A Touch of Frost

what happened.”
    “What’s there to tell?” asked Glickman. “I’m in my shop, the bell on the door rings, telling me a customer has come in. I raise my head to greet him and I’m looking straight down the barrel of a shotgun. Behind it is this great hulking brute of a man wearing a stocking mask.”
    As Glickman was talking, Frost studied the pattern of the shotgun pellet pockmarks on the wall. The spread seemed fairly concentrated and not widespread as would be the case if the gun barrel had been sawn off.
    “This gun, Sammy. Was the barrel full-size or had it been sawn off?”
    Glickman shrugged. “When a man pokes something like that at you, Mr. Frost, you don’t get down and measure it.”
    “That’s what the girl who was raped said,” murmured Frost.
    PC Sutton’s shoulders shook as he tried not to laugh. “It’s pretty certain the barrel wasn’t sawn off, Inspector - the damage is too localized. Someone from Forensic should be here soon. They’ll be able to tell us.”
    “Yes, they’re such clever bastards,” commented Frost, who had little time for the geniuses of the forensic section. He nodded for Sammy to continue.
    “He don’t say a dicky bird, just prods me in the gut with the shooter and indicates I should come around the front and lay facedown on the floor. I don’t need to be told twice. Down I go and I hear him sliding back the counter doors and scooping the cream of my stock into a plastic bag.”
    “What sort of stuff, Sammy?”
    “Rings, bracelets, brooches, all exquisite items - twenty thousand quid’s worth.”
    Frost snorted out a lungful of smoke. “Twenty thousand! Do me a favour, Sammy. We’re the police, not the insurance company.”
    “All right,” said Sammy reluctantly, ‘perhaps it might have been nearer six thousand. Anyway, he then rams the gun in the back of my neck and says I’m not to move a muscle for ten minutes, otherwise he’ll blow my head off. So I lie there all still, but as soon as I hear the door close, I’m up in a flash and I’m out the street yelling, “Stop, thief”.” He dabbed his forehead again and was disappointed to see that the flow of blood had stopped.“Picture the scene, Air Frost. I’m out in that street yelling, “Stop thief,” and who’s there to hear me? Not a bloody soul! The only person in the street is the robber, climbing into his motor and yanking the stocking mask off his head.”
    Frost slid down from the counter. “You saw him with the mask off? Did you see his face?”
    “It was the only bloody face in the street. Of course I saw it.”
    “Would you recognize him again?”
    Glickman folded the handkerchief carefully and put it in his pocket. "listen, Mr. Frost, when a man robs me of thirty thousand pounds’ worth of prime stock, I promise you his face becomes memorable.”
    “I suppose you didn’t get the registration number of the car?” asked Frost, not too hopefully.
    “Of course I got the bloody registration number. It was a red Vauxhall Cavalier, registration number CBZ2303. They’re nice little motors - my brother-in-law has one.”
    Frost couldn’t believe his luck. Licence plates falling off Jags, and now an armed robber seen without his mask, his car details noted. He instructed Sutton to buzz Control and get the car’s particulars circulated.
    “Already done, sir,” said Sutton flatly. He didn’t need to be told to do something as basic as that.
    “And you’ve warned Control that the man is armed and dangerous?”
    “Of course, sir.” Or as basic as that, either.
    Glickman, piqued that he was no longer the centre of attraction, said peevishly, “Do you want to know what else happened, or am I of no further interest now I’ve done half your work for you?”
    Frost hitched himself back up on the counter and waved for Sammy to go on.
    “Like I said, I’m screaming to an empty street. He must have got fed up with me yelling at him because he swings his shooter round and fires - point-blank range. But he misses me and hits that showcase.”
    Frost looked at the showcase and lined up the angles. “Either he was a rotten shot, Sammy, or he only meant to frighten you.”
    “He certainly frightened me, Inspector. I’ll be putting the biological washing powder to the test tonight, I promise you. Anyway, I fling myself facedown on the pavement until I hear the car roaring off. Then everyone comes running out to see what’s up. When I’m screaming, “Stop thief,” and being