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

highlight of his weekend. But there was an emptiness that he was beginning to feel more and more, a feeling that was escalating pretty much in parallel with his stupid day-dreams of a life with Maggie Bainbridge. And here it was, another Thursday night. Or more accurately, another would-he-or-wouldn't-he-ask-her-out Thursday night.

As usual he'd got there first, at five-twenty on the dot which was ten minutes ahead of the scheduled start time, and as usual he'd equipped himself with a pint of Doom Bar, which as usual, he had more or less drained by the time Maggie and Jimmy arrived.

'Good to see you guys,' he boomed over the background hubbub of conversation. He shook his glass in Jimmy's direction.

'Aye I know, it's my round,' Jimmy said with a brief nod of the head. 'As usual.'

Maggie peeled off her coat and clambered up onto a stool.

'Good to see you again Frank. Been busy I guess?'

'Well you know,' he smiled. 'Lots going on but all early days.'

'Same with us. Except there's been some big news on the Macallan inheritance. Maybe I should let Jimmy tell you when he gets back.'

'And on that subject,' Frank said, lowering his voice, 'did he try and see Flora when he was up there? He's keeping it to himself if he did. He hasn't said a word to me.'

She shook her head. 'No, she was away, but to be honest I think he was glad. Between you and me, I think he would have bottled it if she had been around.'

Frank allowed himself a wry smile. He knew all about bottling it, but maybe, just maybe, tonight would be different. For a second it crossed his mind to ask her right now, whilst his brother was at the bar, but then thought better of it. Wait until he'd had another pint or two, ramp up the Dutch courage a notch and then go for it. That was the plan, if you could call it that.

Jimmy arrived back with the drinks and carefully laid them out on the shelf.

'Cheers guys,' he said, picking up his pint, 'and here's to success.'

'Aye, here's hoping,' Frank smiled. 'So this Macallan inheritance business. Tell me all.'

Jimmy nodded. 'Well let's just say it's all got a bit more serious. There's been another death, and there's every chance it's murder. That's just my opinion of course and right now it's not shared by the local cops.'

'What?' Frank said, sounding surprised. 'So who's been killed?'

'Susan Priest, the twins' old nanny. It was a hit and run and the Hampshire police seem to be treating it as a dangerous driving case, rather than a deliberate act. But get this. Before she died, Mrs Priest had been in touch with one of the twins. And not only that, the stepmother had paid her a visit too.'

'And now she's dead,' Frank said. 'That's quite a development.'

'Aye that's what we thought,' Jimmy said, 'so we wondered if you might be able to take a look at it?'

Frank furrowed his brow. 'Well, it's not really my jurisdiction, but maybe I can get Ronnie French to give the Hampshire boys a call, let them into a bit of the background.'

'That would be a great help,' Maggie said, smiling. 'The trouble is, I feel we've gone backwards with the case if anything. I'm going to have one last go at Kirsty and her caveman husband and see if they know anything. And obviously, I'm still trying to persuade them to accept a deal, although I don't hold out much hope. Then Jimmy's going to try and smooth-talk Elspeth Macallan into accepting a settlement too. Otherwise it will have to be sorted out in front of a magistrate.'

Frank laughed. 'Smooth-talk did you say? Well that's not going to work is it? Because I've never heard smooth-talking and my brother being mentioned in the same sentence before.'

Jimmy didn't seem unduly upset by the barb. 'Fair point bruv, but when you're working for a boss like mine, you do what you're told. It's worse than being in the army.'

'I can't see how it'll be that horrible,' Frank grinned. 'From what I've seen, Elspeth's a good-looking girl and she's probably rich enough to pick up the tab too.'

'Well why don't you do it then and I'll sort out your Ardmore murders. Fair swap?'

'Boys boys, stop your squabbling please,' Maggie said, laughing. 'I'm sure Jimmy will have a lovely time and his boyish good looks and charm will soon get to the truth.'

'Aye, that's right Maggie,' Jimmy said, nodding at his brother. 'It's just a pity it doesn't run in the family. But anyway, it's too late mate. I've already made a date, it's all arranged. I've to pick her up at her place on Saturday and then we're going to some fancy restaurant just up the road.'

Frank shrugged. 'Aye, well that's all good. But I should say, it's way over-rated, that boyish good looks and charm stuff, so it is. That's what I've found at least.'

But deep down, he wished nature had equipped him with at least a small dollop of either. Because one or the other might be useful for what he was planning later that evening. If he didn't bottle it, that was. He looked down at his glass and saw it was still three-quarters full. Ten seconds later, it wasn't.

'Another drink folks?' he said. Just as he was about to set off for the bar, Maggie said,

'Jimmy, what about that other thing? You know, the guy who called up the Priests offering to cut them in on some sort of deal.'

'Oh aye, the Geordie guy do you mean?'

And as he said it, there occurred what could only be described as a simultaneous light-bulb moment. Geordie. Of course.

'Bloody hell, you don't think they're connected do you?' Jimmy said, addressing his brother. 'Your hacker and this bloke who called the Priests?'

Frank gave a dismissive smile. 'What, with about half a million Newcastle lads to pick from and this one random guy happens to be our man?