Land Rites (Detective Ford), Andy Maslen [best way to read ebooks .txt] 📗

to herself. A challenge. Hannah enjoyed challenges. Abandoning the reset idea, she went back to the password dialog box.

She put a finger to the point of her chin and stared at the winking cursor. It seemed to be daring her to enter enough incorrect passwords that it could shut her out. Surely Owen hadn’t created different but equally obscure passwords for all his accounts? She herself had memorised over thirty separate passwords. All strong. But she knew she was different.

She tried a new strategy. He might have kept the main password as the root and added on account-specific codes for all his apps.

Gaia_Needs_Owen!_gopro

Some of your security details are incorrect.

Gaia_Needs_Owen!_GoPro

Some of your security details are incorrect. You have two more attempts.

Gaia_Needs_Owen!_G0Pr0

Some of your security details are incorrect. You have one more attempt.

Gaia_Needs_Owen!_GoPrO

You may not attempt any more passwords for 24 hours.

Hannah inhaled deeply, then exhaled, shutting her eyes. How frustrating. She hated the thought of having to tell Henry she’d failed.

After work, Ford had driven the long way home to clear his head. He cooked lamb chops and roasted baby potatoes in olive oil with sea salt and rosemary for him and Sam.

Sam polished his off and looked straight at Ford. ‘Hey, guess what?’

‘What?’

‘I was on my way home from school, right? And this bloke was, like, following me. All the way down Exeter Street and then up to the Old Bridge. So, I turned round, OK? And I was, like, who the fuck are you and why are you following me?’

Ford’s stomach flipped over. He knew who it had to be. ‘Sam, you shouldn’t—’

Sam shook his head. ‘No, wait. I haven’t finished. He’s like, tell your dad to hurry up and find who killed my brother. Then he said his name. But I already guessed most of it. Rye Bolter. But I totally owned him. And I got him on video in case you want to arrest him for, like, verbal assault or whatever.’ Sam sat back, smiling.

‘Show me.’

Sam fiddled with his phone for a few seconds then held it out to Ford. Even from the back, there was no mistaking Rye’s distinctive build and gait. Ford felt anger boiling up inside him. He needed to stop this before it got any worse. But first he needed to make Sam understand a bit more about how the world worked.

‘Right, number one, that was really stupid. You don’t confront anyone who follows you in the street. Run if you have to, or shout for help. Go into a shop or something. But especially not Rye bloody Bolter. He’s unstable and a total thug, Sam. What if he’d hit you? You’d be in hospital by now.’

‘But he didn’t, did he? I faced him down. I owned him! Don’t worry, Dad. I’m fine.’

‘Never mind that! And number two, I’m going to sort out some protection. Discreet protection,’ Ford added as Sam’s mouth opened to complain. ‘Just for a day or two while I sort it out. He won’t bother you again. I promise. OK?’

Sam smiled. ‘OK, fine. But I think you’re overreacting.’

Ford bit back his response. Because explaining why he wasn’t overreacting would only frighten Sam.

Once they’d cleared away from dinner, they both headed for the small sitting room at the back of the house. Ford did his best to behave calmly, but inside he was planning an action that would stop Rye Bolter in his tracks. Or so he prayed.

He leaned back in his usual spot on the worn leather sofa and looked at Sam, who was poring over a magazine, his long legs folded beneath him.

‘What yer readin’?’ Ford asked.

Sam looked up, then held the magazine out towards him. The cover shot showed a woman in neon pink and green Lycra traversing a rock face.

‘Climber,’ Sam said. ‘There’s an article all about your first ascent.’

‘Learning much?’ Ford managed.

Sam nodded. ‘I’m reading about knots at the moment.’

‘That’ll be handy for your trip,’ Ford said, grateful Sam hadn’t asked him to show him how to tie any.

‘I want to be safe, Dad. I’m doing a ton of research before we go.’

‘I’m pleased.’

‘You know I’m going to be fine, right? You don’t need to worry.’

‘Yeah, I know. It’s just . . .’

‘I understand. I do. But I think this will be good for me. For both of us.’

Ford felt such a flood of love for his son it threatened to overwhelm him. Who was parenting whom? And when had the little boy who’d stood silently, shocked into tear-free immobility at his mother’s funeral, turned into the young man reassuring him that all would be well and all manner of things would be well?

‘I know it will, Sam,’ he said, swallowing down his fears and trying not to picture his son suspended above the void on nothing more substantial than a length of nylon rope.

‘Really?’ Sam asked with a smile.

‘Really.’

Sam turned back to his climbing magazine. Ford checked his watch. Just before eight. Plenty of time.

‘I’m going out,’ he said. ‘Don’t answer the door to anyone.’

Sam held up his right hand, thumb and forefinger in a circle.

Ford drove back to Bourne Hill. The traffic was light and the trip only took ten minutes. Instead of heading upstairs, he made his way to the response and patrol shift sergeant’s office. The woman in uniform behind the desk looked up and smiled.

‘Evening, sir. Don’t often see you in R&P. Everything OK?’

‘Hi, Nat. Listen, Rye Bolter threatened Sam this afternoon on his way home from school.’

Her eyes popped wide. ‘Oh my God, is he all right?’

‘Yeah, he’s fine. Too fine, actually. Giving it the whole “I showed no fear” bit. Listen, I need a favour. Can you put a body on him for a day or two? Nothing obvious. Just on his way to and from school?’

‘Of course. Are you going to arrest Rye?’

Ford looked at her levelly. ‘Something like that.’

She nodded. ‘I’ll sort out a little roster. Off the books.’

‘Thanks, Nat. I owe you one.’

Next, Ford stopped off in the training