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

‘It could discredit you,’ Ashley said. She felt uncomfortable, unsure if she should stay, although the ambience and the man were soothing but not seductive, as he was old enough to be her father.

‘Jerome, I’ve run in the fast lane before. I know what I’m doing.’

A bottle of wine appeared. Jaden sniffed the cork, tasted a sample, proclaimed it fit for consumption.

‘Cheers,’ he said, clinking his glass with Ashley’s.

‘The first of many,’ she responded.

‘I’m not the first older man you’ve dined with, am I?’

‘They didn’t succeed, either.’

‘Please, that is not my intention, and besides, the Savoy Grill is hardly discreet.’

‘You could have a room upstairs. I doubt if many in here would raise an eyebrow if you whisked me up there.’

‘An interesting thought, but no, you’re wrong on the first count. There is no room, but on the second, you’re right. Look over to your left. Can you see a man, older than me, open-necked shirt, a blue jacket?’

‘I can.’

‘A banker from Berlin; comes to London every month.’

‘That sounds feasible.’

‘The woman he’s with, a lot younger, beautiful, a lot of class?’

‘His daughter?’ Ashley said before laughing.

‘High-class escort. A wife back home, socialising with her friends, doing charity work, and he’s here sampling the local wares.’

‘He could be seen.’

‘What does it matter? Middle-class morality doesn’t concern him, and his wife knows.’

‘How do you know this?’

‘The same way I know that McAlister’s not reliable, and you shouldn’t be sleeping with him.’

‘If you know so much, then you must know who shot at Angus Simmons, what the reason is.’

‘I know enough to be cautious. Ashley, let me be blunt. You’re playing with fire, sleeping with a rough man, making a bit of a fool of yourself.’

‘Isn’t that up to me?’

‘Your lobster, madam; yours, sir.’ The waiter, silent as a breeze, appeared alongside them and put the plates on the table.

‘Not one of yours?’ Ashley said.

‘He should be, glides in and out. He could have been standing there for thirty seconds, and we wouldn’t have known.’

Ashley, seduced by the meal and the wine, not by the man, could feel she was losing control of the situation. ‘Before I get too drunk, what is the point of us here?’ she asked.

‘I’ll level with you, Ashley,’ Jaden said, clinking his glass with hers again. ‘Whatever happens, the television station is going under.’

‘You’ll be forced to take it off the air?’

‘Unlikely, but it’ll need restructuring, and for that, I need money. Bad publicity, the sort you could bring me, would make banks nervous.’

‘How much do you need?’

‘Twenty-five million pounds, give or take a few million. Not chicken feed.’

‘You’ve got that sort of money?’

‘On paper, but yes, if I cashed in everything, mortgaged the house, sold the boat, then I could get the money.’

‘You sound almost bourgeois. And as for your house, an eighteenth-century stately home in the Palladian style, and the boat, hardly a dinghy.’

‘Very well, seeing you’ve been checking on me. Fifty metres, state of the art, parked in the South of France, worth upwards of twenty million, but it’s not mine, belongs to a credit company. Regardless, my wealth is separate from my business interests.’

‘A long way separate: overseas bank accounts, companies in every offshore jurisdiction, all of it untouchable by inland revenue in the UK.’

‘You’re well informed,’ Jaden said as he put a piece of lobster into his mouth.

‘Not about you, but I know how it works. You’re not going broke, although the station might. What about Babbage, Karen Majors, Tom Taylor?’

‘And the others. I’ll not cheat them, and besides, it’s academic. With you helping, I’ll survive, and you’ll end up well rewarded.’

‘Is that a bribe?’

‘How’s the meal?’ Jaden asked.

‘You’re changing the subject.’

‘Am I? You’ve not heard me out yet.’

The waiter appeared, topped up the glasses. ‘Another bottle, sir?’

‘Of course.’

‘Are you sure you haven’t got a room upstairs?’ Ashley said. ‘Getting me drunk.’

‘Please purge that from your mind. I want to put a proposal to you. Will you hear me out?’

‘Go on.’

‘Someone took a shot at Simmons; we both know that.’

‘So do the police,’ Ashley said, placing a hand over her glass when the waiter tried to top it up again.

‘Let’s not forget them, but they’re floundering, annoying his girlfriend, although she’s into someone new, up until she tried to top herself. The Hamptons must be sick of the police now, and he’s a misery, and the sister is a reprobate biker’s moll, tattooed from head to toe. And as for Simmons’s parents, he’s a lecher, and she’s reclusive. No wonder Angus felt the need to prove himself to them.’

‘I believe you’re maligning his parents.’

‘Maybe I am, but that’s not important. Simmons died, that’s all I know, and McAlister might know the truth. He’ll string it out, milk as much money for as long as he can, and as long as you’re there for sweeteners, why wouldn’t he?’

‘Is that a roundabout way of giving me a compliment?’

‘If you like. You’re in a different league to him. It cheapens you. She doesn't have a conscience over there with the banker, just a cocaine habit and a taste for the good life. You, Ashley Otway, are not obsessed about money, would like more, everyone does, but it’s not an all-consuming passion.’

‘What are you getting at?’

‘You want a story; I want to restructure the station, or if it can’t be, then to get out with as much money as I can. For that, I need us to work together. You scratch my back; I’ll scratch yours.’

‘Platonic?’

‘Don’t go down that road,’ Jaden said. ‘You whored once, not enjoyed the experience, leave it at that. What if McAlister put his iPhone somewhere in the room, pointing at the two