The Knapthorne Conspiracy by Malcolm Ballard (best english novels for beginners txt) 📕

“How come you’re such a bitch, Barbara?” As much as he had tried, Ben couldn’t stop his anger from coming to the surface. The humour left her face as she turned on him.

“So I’m a bitch now, am I? Why’s that Ben? Because I’m ripping you off like you’re ripping the firm off? What’s it matter whether it’s fraud or blackmail, what’s the difference? We’re two of a kind, you and I, Ben Hollingsworth, whether you like it or not. And you’re hooked on sex as much as me! You should see yourself in action, in that video!” There was a look of triumph in her eyes as she sat back and Ben knew that she was right. Perhaps he was even worse because he was a solicitor, charged with upholding the law, and he couldn’t even make a success of that.

“The only difference between you and me, Ben,” she went on, “is that I don’t have any illusions about myself. You haven’t got the guts to face up to what you are…” He shut out the words, the taunting accusations, as he listened to an inner voice, it’s words getting louder, yelling at him, telling him what to do. He would have to be strong, it said, he would have to take control. He knew what had to be done!

“Shut up!” he yelled. Shut up!” Barbara turned to him, her lips moving but he couldn’t hear what she was saying because of the voice in his head. A sneering grin twisted her lips and he tore his eyes away, concentrating on the road. Ahead of them on the opposite side of the road, about 500 yards away, was a large pub. Even though they had left the motorway the volume of traffic was still quite heavy, much of it commercial, but if he timed it right there was a gap in the traffic coming up before the next lorry. The voice egged him on and he put his foot down. The grin left Barbara’s face, replaced by a look of surprise, then shock. Her lips were moving, she was screaming at him as shock turned to horror and she made a grab for the wheel. Ben saw his chance and the voice shouted its congratulations as he sped into the gap, driving the wrong way in the other lane, and hurtled straight towards the lorry at over ninety miles an hour.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Happy in his work, Paul Aristides was preparing the ingredients for making hummus. The smile on his face was not solely because of contentment with his lot but, for the most part, it was generated by thoughts of returning to his beloved Levkas, to see his ageing parents. England had been his home now for nearly twenty years but his heart was forever in the land of his birth and he returned there at least once a year. Sometimes he would take Pat but on the odd occasion he would go by himself to relive the old times with his male cronies. Sitting at his favourite taverna drinking ouzo as the sun set over the harbour was as close to heaven as you could get. In Paul’s mind anyway. Especially when your wife was hundreds of miles away. He grinned at the thought, knowing that he would be leaving, by himself, in under two weeks. He was a lucky man indeed!

“Nice to see someone enjoying their work.” He hadn’t seen the girl come in although the shop was empty. An expert on the female of the species, as was every Greek male, he quickly assessed her as being attractive, in a slightly mannish way, with an oval face and short, cropped blonde hair. Not shy this one, he thought, and not to be trusted. It was in the eyes. There was a lot to tell about people from their eyes, Paul was fond of saying.

“Been in the area long?” What sort of question was that, he wondered. Most English people always mentioned the weather when they opened a conversation. It reinforced his thinking about the eyes.

“Longer than I wish to remember,” he replied, affably. “You passing through?” he asked, kicking the ball back to her.

“On my way to Salisbury,” she lied. Her boss, Kyle Lucas, had told her to sniff around simply using her initiative. She hadn’t liked to ask him why, he had been in such a foul mood yesterday after the weekend. Go to the village, drop the girl’s name into the pond and see what the ripples are like. Why am I asking, she had said to him and been told to come up with a believable excuse, that was what she was paid for. Shit, who did the bastard think he was? If she got the place at drama school, she’d be out of there, anyway. Foul-tempered prick.

“What part of Greece you from?”

“Northern Greece. Lefkada.” A nod and a smile indicated she knew it.

“Levkas man. Hammond Innes. I’ve read the book.”

“That was many years ago, now, I think.”

“Still a good read, though. I’m Wendy Daniels, by the way.” A hand was offered, over the counter, the handshake firm and businesslike. He put her at early 20’s, no more. Strong-willed, too, at a guess. If he were twenty, thirty years younger would he have been interested? He laughed to himself but only the eyes sparkled in the still-handsome face. He had always been interested.

“Paul Aristides. Nice to meet you.  What do you do for a living, then, Wendy Daniels?”

“I’m a clerk for a solicitor. I do all the hard work, they get the money, you know how it is!” It was a cover she had used before. Her flatmate worked for a legal firm and provided her with enough colourful anecdotes to give authenticity to the fabrication and make her feel comfortable with it. The legal aspect seemed to give it credibility somehow in people’s eyes. But Paul Aristides wasn’t convinced. He loved people. Loved serving