The Ardmore Inheritance by Rob Wyllie (reading the story of the .txt) 📕

'What do you think to that then boss?' Jimmy said as they strolled back along the lochside to the hotel. 'A right turn up for the books isn't it?'

'Yeah it is, and one of our twins will likely go ballistic when they find out what her sister has done. But come on, you've met them both. Which one do you think has made a deal with the wicked step-mother?'

He shrugged. 'I don't know. I thought maybe on balance Kirsty was the more reasonable of the two, but then again she's got her husband pulling the strings. So as I said, I don't know. Could be either of them.' He gave a grin as he realised what he had just said. 'Obviously.'

'But you could easily find out I think,' Maggie said, a hint of mischief in her voice, 'if you were to take up Elspeth's offer. The dinner date I mean. It would be strictly business of course.'

He gave her a sharp look. 'And do I have any choice?'

'No,' she said. 'No, you haven't.'

Chapter 15

Fuck off whoever you are. That was the frankly stupid response he'd got from her after he made his opening gambit, requesting an entirely reasonable eighty-five grand to keep his mouth shut about everything he knew about the events up at Ardmore House that night. Well, she was going to find out sooner rather than later what a huge mistake that was. She was about to learn that screwing around with him never ended well, and her with so much to lose too, it was dumb beyond belief. Now his price was going up at the rate of ten grand a week, and you know what, he was so angry with her arrogance that he might just tell the authorities anyway. Stupid cow.

You see, every murder had to have a motive, and of course he knew hers. In fact, wasn't it him who had supplied it to her in the first place? And with access-all-areas to her Cloud back-up, it hadn't been difficult to find out where she lived, and now he was ready to leave his indelible mark on her pathetic life. The black and green aerosols he'd chosen would work very nicely on the whitewashed wall, and in a couple of days’ time it would be all over the arts pages. There's a new Geordie and it's one of his best. That's what they'd say, and there would be silly speculation about how much his latest masterpiece had added to the value of the property. He'd enjoy reading them all, as long as they didn't come out with any of that second-rate Banksy crap again.

And maybe then she would realise that he was serious and that she'd better pay up or else. He'd give her seven days max.

In the meantime, that copper woman up in Manchester didn't seem to realise what serious shit she was in. He'd asked her twice for the money but still nada. Very well, if that was the way she wanted to play it, so be it. Soon she would find it didn't pay to mess with Geordie-boy.

Chapter 16

It was three-thirty by the time they returned to the hotel, giving them ample opportunity to complete the check-in formalities before Maggie's four o'clock meeting with Dr Angus McLeod.

'Two single rooms was it?' the plump receptionist said, her emphasis on the word suggesting she would have been well-cast in a sixties Carry-On movie. 'As it happens we're quiet tonight so I've slipped madam into a very comfortable double overlooking the loch.' Just in case you two should change your mind, nudge-nudge, wink-wink.Shedidn't say any of that, but it was obvious from her lascivious expression what she was thinking. Maggie, in good spirits despite some trepidation about her upcoming encounter, decided to take it as a compliment. Jimmy Stewart and Maggie Bainbridge, secret lovers. That wasn't going to happen, not ever, but that didn't mean she didn't occasionally think about it.

The receptionist scribbled something illegible in the old-fashioned register then without looking up said, 'Hamish will take your bags up, and there's complimentary refreshments in the lounge just over there. Have a lovely stay.'

Maggie smiled. She didn't know there were people really called Hamish, but it was a nice name.

'That's great', she said, then turning to Jimmy asked, 'What are you going to do whilst I'm with Dr McLeod?'

'I'm going to a wee snooze, and then I'm going to get a wee cup of tea and have a wee read of the paper,' he said, dead-pan. 'It's been a stressful day and I feel the need to relax.'

She laughed. 'That sounds like a plan. So we'll meet up in the bar shall we, when I get back?'

'Now that sounds like a plan,' he grinned, 'and Frank should be here by then too.'

'Yes, it'll be nice to see him again.' It had only been about three days since they last met, but there was no getting away from the truth. She missed him. 'See you later.'

It took just a couple of minutes to reach Lochmorehead's little surgery, located in an attractive double-fronted house located within a neat garden surrounded by black-painted iron railings. As she had feared, the same receptionist as on her last visit was on duty, which was hardly surprising given the size of the practice. She doubted if Dr McLeod and Dr Stewart needed to employ more than one. Today Maggie was dressed in a sober grey business suit featuring trousers rather than a skirt, although the item had been purchased with the option of either, and wearing her hair down. On her last visit, it was tied up and concealed beneath that ridiculous hat, and of course she had been wearing her Mount Everest-proof walking jacket. Nonetheless, the receptionist gave her a suspicious look when she announced herself at the desk. The trouble was, there was no disguising that Yorkshire accent.

'Dr