My passenger fished in his pockets and came out with a driving-licence of his own. The policeman checked the name and address and handed it back to him. 'What's your job?' he asked sharply.
'I'm an 'od carrier.'
'A what?'
'An 'od carrier.'
'Spell it.'
'H-O-D C-A-...'
'That'll do. And what's a hod carrier, may I ask?'
'An 'od carrier, officer, is a person 'oo carries the cement up the ladder to the bricklayer. And the 'od is what 'ee carries it in. It's got a long 'andle, and on the top you've got two bits of wood set at an angle...'
'All right, all right. Who's your employer?'
'Don't 'ave one. I'm unemployed.'
The policeman wrote all this down in the black notebook. Then he returned the book to its pocket and did up the button.
'When I get back to the station I'm going to do a little checking up on you,' he said to my passenger.
'Me? What've I done wrong?' the rat-faced man asked.
'I don't like your face, that's all,' the policeman said. 'And we just might have a picture of it somewhere in our files.' He strolled round the car and returned to my window.
'I suppose you know you're in serious trouble,' he said to me.
'Yes, officer.'
'You won't be driving this fancy car of yours again for a very long time, not after we've finished with you. You won't be driving any car again come to that for several years. And a good thing, too. I hope they lock you up for a spell into the bargain.'
'You mean prison?' I asked, alarmed.
'Absolutely,' he said, smacking his lips. 'In the clink. Behind the bars. Along with all the other criminals who break the law. And a hefty fine into the bargain. Nobody will be more pleased about that than me. I'll see you in court, both of you. You'll be getting a summons to appear.'
He turned away and walked over to his motor-cycle. He flipped the prop stand back into position with his foot and swung his leg over the saddle. Then he kicked t
he starter and roared off up the road out of sight.
'Phew! ' I gasped. 'That's done it.'
'We was caught,' my passenger said. 'We was caught good and proper.'
'I was caught, you mean.'
'That's right,' he said. 'What you goin' to do now, guv'nor?'
'I'm going straight up to London to talk to my solicitor,' I said. I started the car and drove on.
'You mustn't believe what 'ee said to you about goin' to prison,' my passenger said. 'They don't put nobody in the clink just for speedin'.'
'Are you sure of that?' I asked.
'I'm positive,' he answered. 'They can take your licence away and they can give you a whoppin' big fine, but that'll be the end of it.'
I felt tremendously relieved.