Sheep Snatcher, Thief Catcher, What’s the good in that Old Thatcher? by Megan Lewis (best young adult book series .TXT) 📕

There was a flock of sheep standing around in a field. This field was distant from everywhere else with in the small village, its owner being Farmer Thatcher, who was very popular with the village people. Farmer Thatcher supplied the village with meat and dairy products from his farm so the villagers often helped him there. They had just finished building a barn for the animals in the winter months, which were fast approaching. This day, was the day of the opening. It was considered a great success to the village because each and every person had contributed in some way, whether it was Mr Harlington supplying the wood or little Elsie passing the paint brush up to her mother who was standing tall on the ladder, reaching for the roof, covering it in a blanket of smooth white. As the village people gathered at the farm, no one knew how much the atmosphere would change over this night, or how much danger each and every one of them was really in.

It lurked over the hill then snuck through the trees, watching in the cold early winter breeze, waiting until night because as it was light he could not commit his tragic deed of vengeance and deceit, he hid deep beneath the trees where no one else could see the evil in his eyes, the mystery and lies because as by now you may have realised that this would be no ordinary night but one of sadness, torture and don’t forget the huge fight. You may be thinking what the sheep at the start had to do with the rest of the story read on to find out or close the book now as this could get gory.

Anyway, that night after all the happy events prior, he crept out from the trees because he had stopped watching when everyone had left, but not completely as he was still eyeing Farmer Thatcher’s prize sheep. He knew that when that one sheep had gone, leaving a trail of drip drop b l o o d leading from the gravel down the road that Farmer Thatcher would sure to follow as he was a clever man. His prize sheep, which was sought after by every farm near and far, missing and a trail of drip drop b l o o d leading from the field. He would know. Of course he would follow not knowing that this would be leading him to much worse events to follow, for him not for the sheep. But this would just grab his attention; attract him to his death bed. But why would anyone do this to Farmer Thatcher. Maybe because of his sheep. Maybe because of his barn, or could it be because he isn’t who he says he is...

2011-06-04. Cold case team. London.

Detective Inspector Lennon had just walked into the office, phone pressed to his ear in one hand and a take-away coffee, large, in the other. His tie wasn’t yet done and his shirt only half-buttoned. He wasn’t ready for the day and everyone could see it. His home life had been trashed at the moment since the fire, which at the time was treated as suspicious but soon dropped. He knew someone had done that to his home, his family, his son, scarred for life, branded by someone else’s doing for everyone to see, right there, on his face. Five. Five and he will have that forever. The remembrance of the day when he couldn't get out, when he didn’t understand, when he had run through the flames which his dad was on the other side of. He would never forget and neither would Lennon. Either way he had to carry on. He hung up the phone which he slammed on the table, which trembled under the force, just to be greeted with morning boss, case from 1965. Man believed to be lured to his death then tortured under humiliating circumstances. With this Lennon replied “what do you mean humiliating?” his colleague stared at him “I mean humiliating boss. There was a group of them, all of them hurting him, only problem is no one knows who.” Lennon returns his stare to see a neat man, barely a man, twenty-four who looked so much more prepared for the day than him and with that he gave out a long sigh and said one word which pretty much left his mouth at least four times every day. “Evidence?” the young man replied “Well yes, there was a sheep left outside and the body in the shed and a knife only two feet away from it. The man’s wife had found the body after she called together some of the village members to ask them to help find her missing husband. Then she did but it was too late. “Lennon thought his next question would be obvious to anyone not just a detective “Name?” the other man, now looking slightly ashamed of himself replied “Davey Thatcher. He was a farmer, popular with all the village people, twenty-seven years old and doing well for himself. He had a lot of friends which we have a list of.” Lennon replied “And his wife, where is she?” Detective Marron, the young man, said “She recently had a heart attack and is in hospital but has agreed to questioning there. Lennon turned to Marron and asked for the time and with this they left to see Mrs Thatcher.

They arrived at Rose Hill Hospital and stormed through the ward with no consideration of the other patients, but only getting to the one they want to see. They arrived at her bed and sat at its side. “You must be the detectives who wanted to see me about my husband, that or hit-men by the way you’re dressed but you wouldn’t get through the security that easily without showing them those flashy badges of yours.” Lennon spoke “Yes, fortunately for you miss, were detectives. We need to ask you some very important questions about your husband’s murder in 1965.” The woman started to speak but it almost looked as though she was a puppet, as though she wasn’t speaking, the words were just coming out. “Yes, I found him and yes I do know who killed him does that just about... cover...” Just then the machine she was hooked up to started making some alarming noises and two doctors and a nurse flew over to the bed. Not long after this she died. There was nothing they could do though, nothing would have saved her and she would have been the key to solving Mr Thatcher’s murder. Nothing can ever be so simple though can it?

1965-07-09 Mr Thatcher’s Farm, Essex

Farmer Thatcher had just woken up to the sound of a cockerel, early as usual. He sat bolt upright in his bed and looked out of the window. He stood up and smiled knowing that he was going to go out and do what he loved. He would collect the eggs from the hens, milk the cows, feed the pigs and tender to the sheep. He walked down the stairs with a spring in his step, grabbed hold of the kettle and poured himself a cup of coffee and drank it quickly. He would get some breakfast later on because he knew he had his jobs to do. He stepped through the door and shut it quietly behind him. His wife, Lauren, wasn’t awake yet which was unusual for her so he thought he would let her sleep. He then collected the eggs, milked the cows and fed the pigs. Last he was onto his prize sheep. They meant everything to him as he had had them since they were only lambs. So when he couldn’t see his best, favourite sheep of all, he panicked. Then seeing the trail of blood, he began to follow it. Someone was either pulling a joke on him or purposely trying to upset him. He ran down the trail and followed it until he saw a man, sitting by a sheep, three men around him with the sheep, he knew it was his, but it was just lying there. He dashed towards them, not yet recognising the men until he got closer but then they grabbed him and took him into the shed.

They covered his eyes so he could not see they taped his mouth so he could not scream they tied him up to a chair grabbed at him tore out his hair, even though people heard the cries the still just passed by until his young wife noticed he was gone it was too late then and nothing could be done.

2011-07-04. Cold Case Team. London.


Just when everyone thought disaster, a new lead was brought in after Lennon decided to put up photos and go on TV to publicise the need for information. A young man came to the office to talk to Detective Inspector Lennon after seeing him talk about the case on ‘Rachael Means News’ last night.

He introduced himself as Max Morrison and explained his father new Mrs Thatcher very well and that he also new Mr Thatcher as he used to work for him as a Sheppard. He said that his Auntie worked for them too and that she had information that could help them with the