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

JJ stared at his phone. So it was the lord of the manor who’d killed Tommy. Not the gamekeeper. Not the posh-totty daughter. Lord Baverstock. From what Ford had said, it was a cold-blooded execution. He’d get life, with hopefully a nice long tariff to go with it. Ford had asked if JJ was satisfied. If he’d pull back from his threat to deliver his own brand of justice.

JJ had said yes. JJ had lied. JJ could wait.

He called his source.

‘What do you want? I thought we were done. I fed you all that intel about the case and we got the guy – and his daughter. I’m free and clear.’

‘That’s what you think. You’re mine until I say you’re not. From now on, my operation is free from police interference, understand? Any raids, any plans to put the squeeze on me, I want to know. In advance. Don’t worry, this is a commercial arrangement. I’ll keep paying you.’

‘I can’t! It’s too risky!’

JJ smiled at the sound of panic in the copper’s voice. ‘No, no, no. I’ll tell you what’s too risky. Not doing what you’re told. Because then I’d have to have a word with your boss. And I can just imagine how he’d take that little piece of news. One of his team, as bent as a nine-pound note?’

‘Fine. But just the small stuff, OK? Drugs, nicking, even the dog fights I can help you with. But you get into anything serious and I can’t.’

JJ smiled. He had him right where he wanted him. ‘Let’s see how we go, shall we, Mick?’

He ended the call.

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

Home, Ford grabbed a beer from the fridge and yelled out for Sam. No reply. Recently, he’d taken to sitting in the driver’s seat of the Jag watching climbing videos on YouTube.

Ford opened the door that led directly from the kitchen into the garage. He found Sam slumped in Izabella’s worn red leather driver’s seat, head down over his phone. Ford opened the passenger door and sat next to his son.

‘Hello,’ Sam said, freezing a man halfway through a roped descent.

‘Hi. What yer watchin’?’

‘Abseiling. It’s so cool. I think we’re going to be doing it.’

Ford nodded. ‘It’s fun. Scary, but fun. How was your day?’

‘Fine. Out with Josh. How was your day?’

‘I found a video in the Cloud that showed Lord Baverstock’s daughter, Lucy, shooting Owen Long. Then we arrested Lord Baverstock and he confessed to murdering Tommy Bolter, because Tommy was blackmailing Lucy.’

Sam turned in his seat. ‘Result!’

‘Yeah. Although when we went out to Alverchalke Manor to arrest Lucy, she tried to escape on a horse. It threw her off and now she’s in hospital.’

Sam’s eyes widened. ‘Is she going to be all right?’

Ford nodded. ‘Once the doctors say she’s well enough, I’ll go up there and arrest her for Owen Long’s murder.’

Ford found he didn’t want to dwell on the day. There’d be an enquiry into Lucy’s arrest and no doubt unpleasant questions from Professional Standards. He pushed the thought away. ‘Fancy a road trip?’

Izabella’s straight six howling, and Sam grinning beside him, Ford smiled as they tore along the Coombe Road that ran south-west from Salisbury. After twenty minutes, they reached a viewpoint. Ford signalled, decelerated and pulled off the road into the gravel semicircle, bringing the car to a stop at the fence.

Ford stood side by side with Sam before an etched steel map of the surrounding countryside. He gestured at the rolling hills on the horizon. ‘Not bad, is it?’

‘It’s cool. I like it. I’m going to take some photos. We’re doing town and country in art.’

Ford watched his son snap away with his phone. He remembered days when he and Lou had walked down the narrow path from here, picnic blanket under Ford’s arm, the infant Sam in his mother’s.

His phone rang. It was Hannah.

‘Hi, Wix,’ he said, watching Sam lying on his belly to take more photos. ‘What’s up?’

‘Now the case is closed and congratulations by the way would you like to come to dinner at mine because I think it would be nice.’

Ford blinked at this rush of words. He sensed how much it had cost Hannah to invite him to her house.

‘That would be lovely. Just let me know when.’

‘OK, I will. We’ll have something to eat and some nice wine and we’ll have a cocktail to start and then there’s something I want to show you that I think you’ll find interesting. Oh! No, I didn’t mean—’

She hung up.

Ford frowned as he pocketed the phone. Didn’t mean what? Didn’t mean to say that? What could she have to show him that couldn’t be done at work? The report about the risks of mountaineering on her PC flashed before his eyes.

Now he saw it. Maybe the document he’d seen on her PC really was for Sam. But there must be a second one. This was about Ford. And Lou. Oh Jesus, what was she doing, digging into the past like that? Was she going to show Sam, too?

Sam ran back to him, holding up his phone. ‘What do you think? I used an unusual angle to make the landscape look like a model.’

Ford looked at the image on the screen. ‘It’s good. Great. Weird, but great.’ He placed all thoughts of Hannah and her report into a folder and slammed it into a steel drawer. ‘Listen, I’m going to take some proper time off. You want to go and buy some climbing gear next weekend?’

Sam’s face lit up. ‘You’re serious?’

‘Yes. What do you say? Find you a decent helmet, some boots, a rucksack, whatever you need.’

‘That would be awesome. Thanks, Dad. I love you.’

Ford risked tousling Sam’s curls. ‘I love you, too, Sam. A lot.’

He saw Lou’s smile on his son’s lips. He thought she would have approved of him letting Sam go climbing. Despite his fear. Because Philip Martival was right.

A father would do anything for his children.

Anything.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

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