The Hero's Fall (DCI Cook Thriller Series Book 14) by Phillip Strang (classic books for 10 year olds TXT) 📕

‘And if the programme fails, the station is under threat?’

‘Then we’d better make sure that none of those eventualities occurs. Are you on board?’ Jaden said.

‘I didn’t come here to work for you.’

‘Then why come? Bored at home?’

‘You know I am. Who took that shot?’

‘I don’t know, nor do I care. He had to go, one way or the other. Macho man, the great adventurer he might have been, but the viewers, most of them no more than a dozen brain cells between them, want tits and arse, and for that, Tricia is ideal.’

‘More than adequate,’ Breslaw said. ‘Tom Taylor?’

‘He’ll stay as the head of programming. You’ll report to me. I suggest we don’t meet here, not for now.’

‘Do you intend to slag me off to Ashley Otway again?’

‘If I must.’

‘I might regret it,’ Breslaw said as he shook Jaden’s hand.

‘Just like old times.’

It was, Breslaw thought, apart from two differences: he had come to the building with physical violence on his mind, and someone had killed Simmons.

***

Bacon and eggs weren’t on the menu as Kate Hampton drew up at her sister-in-law’s farmhouse. Deb Hampton was in the yard, a shovel in her hand, cleaning up the mess left by the cows that had come into the barn for milking.

‘What are you doing here?’ Deb said, wanting to throw a pile of manure over the woman.

Winding down the window, Kate looked over at the shovel and the woman. ‘Do it if you want. I deserve it,’ she said.

‘What’s happened? Skinner give you the heave-ho, tired of seeing your fat arse bobbing up and down, found himself someone younger and tastier?’

‘I dumped him. I’ve wronged Mike. We need to talk.’

‘You’re still a bitch, told the police you were,’ Deb said.

‘I am, and so are you. Let’s not pretend to like each other. You’re a snivelling toad of a woman, a man dressed up in women’s clothing.’

Deb Hampton put down the shovel and laughed raucously. ‘Women’s clothing? A pair of overalls, steel toe-capped boots?’

‘Maybe not today. A truce?’

‘For Mike, not for you.’

‘Yes, for Mike.’

Buster, Deb’s faithful companion, sensing the animosity, sniffed around Kate’s ankles as she got out of the car, looked up at the woman and snarled.

‘More sense than me,’ Deb said.

‘Still hanging in?’

‘Buster loves me unconditionally, doesn’t care if I look like the witch from hell.’

‘I never thought that of you.’

‘You did. Did you ever introduce me to your parents or your friends?’

‘You’re right. I didn’t. A stuck-up bitch, that’s me.’

‘Seeing that you’re here, come inside and take a seat. Don’t take Buster’s. He’s particular about who he sits with. You’ll have tea?’

Buster maintained a neutral stance as calm settled in the room. Outside, the weather was overcast, but Kate had to admit that even though the house was pokey and not as clean as it should be, it had a homely, lived-in look. Not unlike the house she had shared with Mike when they first moved in together. Back then, evenings in front of a fire, lovemaking on a sheepskin rug.

‘Why are you here?’ Deb asked. She placed two mugs of tea on an old table, one leg shorter than the other. It moved slightly. ‘I’ll fix it one day,’ she said.

‘On your own?’

‘I’ve got a man, comes over occasionally, not that you’d like him.’

‘Wouldn’t I?’

‘Not the brightest, never been anywhere, not even sure he’s been out of the county. But he’s honest, doesn’t screw around…’

‘Not like me.’

‘What is it with you? Mike’s a decent man, and even before, you were screwing whoever.’

‘The thrill of the chase.’

‘What chase? You’re not a bad-looking woman; I’ll give you that. All you need to do is hang a sign around your neck, and they’ll be queuing up.’

Buster, sensing an accord between the two women, raised himself and went and sat down next to Kate.

‘Even the dog thinks you’re alright.’

‘Will you?’

‘Not that easy. A dumb animal or a man and you flaunting the assets, not much difference between them, come to think of it.’

‘I’m not a shameless hussy. Sure, I cheated on Mike, but it wasn’t that often.’

‘Once is fine, two is pushing it, three’s adultery. Is that how it works? Numerical screwing?’

‘You make it sound dirty.’

‘Kate, I’ve screwed around, a biker’s chick. I know all about right and wrong, have seen the worst of people, but they had a code, not that others would understand. Their code was anarchy, do what you want, stuff the consequences, and the law was an arse. But you don’t come from that background. Your values, the same as Mike’s, the same as mine, were formed differently.’

‘You went astray.’

‘I did, and don’t I know it. Every time I look at myself in the bathroom mirror, marked up like a harlequin’s nightmare, unlikely to have children.’

‘Sorry about that. I didn’t know.’

‘Don’t be, not your fault.’

Brave words, Kate could see, but behind the harsh exterior of her sister-in-law, there was a sadness, regret about what could have been. The same as she felt about herself, but she hadn’t run with the wrong crowd or been abused or passed from one biker to the next. All she had been was loved, not with emotion, but physical love.

She realised that Deb had a reason for her outlook on life; she, Kate Hampton, Mike’s wife, did not.

‘It’s not easy living with Mike,’ Kate said.

‘What do you expect? Unable to get out, to do what he loved, Angus Simmons dead.’

‘They were close.’

‘I used to think they were into each other, used to tease Mike about it.’

‘Were they?’

‘Not Mike. Angus was a bit that way inclined, not that I ever had proof. Even if I had, what does