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

‘It doesn’t. I shouldn’t have told him that I was having an affair with Angus the day he left.’

‘You shouldn’t have, not sure if it would have made much difference if you’d given Justin Skinner’s name.’

‘They wouldn’t have argued on the mountain, not about Justin.’

‘You’re to blame, made a right hash of it. If I had any sense, I’d kick you out of here.’

‘But you won’t. You’ll hear me out?’

‘Buster thinks you’re worth it. I’ll rely on his judgement.’

‘Mike still believes I was unfaithful with Angus, but that wasn’t true.’

‘It’s not important. It’s what happened on Cerro Torre, that is. For me, Angus was responsible, but then that’s Mike’s version of events.’

‘Angus always claimed that it was an accident, an explanation accepted by the majority. Are you willing to broach the possibility that Mike’s statement was tainted by anger?’ Kate said.

‘No, neither should you, not if you want to get back with him. But then I don’t trust you. For me, I know what I did, what happened; I’ve learnt to live with it, no intention of repeating.’

‘The shaven head, the sloppy dress?’ Kate said.

‘Out in all weathers, tending to the livestock, mucking out. Not a place for a fancy hairstyle. Practical, that’s what it is, not that I was ever fashion conscious, too masculine, too much of a tomboy.’

‘A fellow mountaineer?’

‘I could have been, climbed with Mike a couple of times, but the elite, they’re fanatical, a dedication above and beyond the reach of mere mortals. I had a wild streak, men and drugs. Mike was ascetic, would have made a good monk.’

‘How do I make it up with Mike? I assume you approve.’

‘You assume wrong. You’ve been a bitch up till now. Why should you stop? Why should I trust you after all you’ve done before?’

‘You can’t, but you have to trust me.’

‘Not me, not so easy. You might have been able to twist Angus around your little finger, get Justin Skinner and whoever hot under the collar, but all I see is a painted whore, screw for England if you could.’

Not surprised by Deb’s effrontery, Kate, who had locked horns with the woman before, did not respond to the insult. Instead, she said, ‘Think of Mike, what’s best for him. How to bring him out of himself.’

‘I’m considering. It’s just that you’ll get your fancy tickled soon enough, and then he’ll be back where he started,’ Deb said.

‘It’s worth the risk.’

‘With risk comes reward.’

‘Clichéd, but what’s the reward?’

‘Mike’s peace of mind,’ Deb said. ‘You, Kate, are an unknown quantity, but I’ll go along with you for now. Truce?’

‘For now.’

‘Great. I’ll give you a pair of overalls, some boots. Your penance starts here. If Buster still likes you afterwards, no longer smelling like a Chinese boudoir, more of carbolic soap, then we can work on Mike’s rehabilitation; yours, as well.’

‘Did you take that shot?’ Kate asked.

‘Blunt and to the point,’ Deb said as she handed over the overalls. ‘No, I didn’t. Forgive and forget, that’s my creed, although I know who did.’

‘How?’

‘Another day, another conversation. I can’t prove it, never will, and I’m not willing to involve myself in an infantile search for vengeance, not for Angus, not even for Mike, and certainly not for you.’

‘You think I did it, don’t you? Tell me, why?’

‘Not murder, but your sins are worse.’

‘The police?’

‘I didn’t tell them. If they’re smart, they’ll discover it. There’s someone else, hidden in view, someone with little empathy, a callous nature, a person who treats others with contempt.’

‘Justin Skinner?’

‘Stop asking stupid questions. You remember that shovel from before?’

‘Yes.’

‘It’s yours. Do a decent job, and I’ll make you lunch, let you sample my home-made wine. It’s got a kick to it, more than the hind legs of a donkey.’

‘Deb, thanks,’ Kate said.

‘Don’t thank me, not yet. You’re still a bitch.’

Chapter 15

A check of those with the necessary skill to take the shot that dislodged Angus Simmons from the Shard had found four persons. Justin Skinner, an accomplished cross-country skier, had represented the United Kingdom at the winter Olympics, coming fifth in the Biathlon, shooting at a target on the route. Deborah Hampton shot rabbits on her farm and belonged to a local shooting club in Dorset. However, after what had been a shaky start, she was rapidly becoming the most reliable of the witnesses, in that she had phoned up Homicide after Kate Hampton’s unexpected visit, told them about her. She told that about Kate mucking out the stable, falling flat on her face in a pile of manure, even laughing after it had happened, and then scrubbing down with carbolic in a tub of cold water.

‘Justice for the bitch,’ Deb had said, causing a chuckle from those in Homicide. She failed to mention that she had a suspicion as to who had killed Angus, though.

Another person with the necessary skill was Charles Simmons, the deceased’s father, and last but not least, Mike Hampton. Angus’s mother, Gwyneth, thought to have been a competent shot, had confirmed she was a pacifist and no longer owned a weapon.

The speed with which Maddox Timberley had moved on to another man concerned Homicide. However, a phone call to her while on a photo shoot in Barbados had received a blunt denial. ‘Not me. I’m hot property, Angus’s woman. My management company reckons they can milk my notoriety, splash it around on social media, wherever they can.’

‘You approve?’ Wendy asked on the conference line.

‘My mother’s not too keen on me being portrayed as easy, but I’m not against it. Celebrity and fame are illusive. You know how it works. It’s not always the most talented or the most beautiful who makes it, not the most intelligent. To be honest,’ Maddox