Mouldwarp Prophecy (eBook)

A Mick Chandra Mystery

Rebecca Tobin Yount (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2017 | 1. Auflage
200 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
978-1-4675-8012-0 (ISBN)

Infos

Who would want to murder Jo Eccleston - and why? The brilliant BBC reporter was shot in the head as she left her Bloomsbury, London townhouse. During her tenure in both Afghanistan and Iraq, reporting on the ground and frequently under fire, she had earned a loyal audience that tuned in the evening news just to see this beautiful, spirited reporter dodge bullets. While in the Mid-East, did Jo learn things she should not have? Had she become a threat to some mighty and powerful players who might have something to hide? Detective Chief Inspector Mick Chandra of New Scotland Yard, and his partner, Detective Inspector Elizabeth Chang, are baffled by the case, not because there are no obvious suspects but because there are too many. The more they delve into Jo's murder the more baffled they become over the number of people who may have wanted her dead. In this particular murder case, neither Mick nor Elizabeth can immediately sort out a prime suspect from a vast field of candidates. The story also features popular characters from Rebecca Yount's previous books in the Mick Chandra crime series: Mick's brilliantly talented wife, Jessica Beaumont, an American expat who has become one of England's most revered concert pianists; Mick's best friend and frequent undercover agent, Jamie Geller, also an American expat; Mick's and Jess' precocious infant daughter, Sarabeth and her loyal Greek nanny, Ya Ya. And who is the mysterious young child, Tamara, and what role does she play in the case? There are enough shady and questionable characters to keep the reader guessing until the very end of the story.

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Who would want to murder Jo Eccleston - and why? Over the past few years, the celebrated BBC newscaster had acquired a fiercely loyal following with her on-site reports from Iraq and Afghanistan. She was fearless, brainy, beautiful, and in real life had abandoned many lovers in her wake. Brad Moody, chief constable of the Thames Police Force, hears of Jo's death on a television broadcast as he is having breakfast in a little caf located in his home base of Gap, a village of ideal beauty an hour west of London. As chance would have it, Gap, Jo's childhood home, was where they met, fell in love, and parted when Jo threw Brad over to marry Sir Reeve Winfield, a wealthy businessman of questionable integrity. Brad needs a trusted friend to confide in - Chief Detective Inspector Mick Chandra of Scotland Yard, where the two had met as neophyte cops. Catching up in a local pub in Gap, Brad confesses to Mick that Jo was pregnant at the time she left him. Whose baby it was he could only guess since Jo was a "e;good time, love 'em and leave 'em"e; kind of woman. So begins the convoluted case of Jo's murder. Mick, along with his brilliant partner, Detective Inspector Elizabeth Chang, are assigned the case that grows more arcane and complicated even as the two police officers struggle to solve it. While still in Gap, Brad insists that Mick meet Jo's mother, the redoubtable Louise Eccleston, at the local family estate, Hedgerow Manor. Louise proves to be both proud and appalled by her late newscaster daughter: proud of her fame, appalled by her indiscriminant private life. "e;Why couldn't she have turned out to be a good girl as I did?"e; Louise laments. As the two detectives delve into the case, they discover that Jo had also indulged in long-term affairs with two additional prominent men: Jon Townsend, a former member of the England's Lib Dem party, who plans for form his own populist party that he is convinced will become a major "e;player"e; in the House of Commons. In addition to Townsend is the popular TV heart throb actor, Nigel Roxbury, who freely admits to Elizabeth that he passionately loved Jo despite the fact that he is married. As for Winfield, he dismisses Jo as a pesky bump in his journey to finding a more compliant, younger woman, while Townsend hotly denies having had an affair with Jo at all. Three former lovers, three possible suspects - four counting Brad Moody. Yet the key to the real Jo lies with a small child locked away in a facility outside of London that treats autistic children -- eight-year-old Tamara, who informs Elizabeth and Mick that "e;she doesn't come here to see me anymore."e; Who is she? The story revolves around a lively cast of characters including Mick's brilliant American-born concert-pianist wife Jessica Beaumont; his best friend and occasional undercover aide, Jamie Geller, another American ex-pat; and Jo's hitherto unknown half-sister, Leah, who in the end comes to Tamara's rescue. And what is the Mouldwarp Prophecy? You'll have to read to book to understand this monster's chilling tale.

Textauszug

Chapter Two

 

It was called Hedgerow Manor, and it had been in the Eccleston family since 1835, which is to say the Ecclestons were, by British uppity standards, parvenus. Only a herald bestowed between the 11th to 15th centuries could confer acceptable, dyed-in-the-wool landed gentry or aristocratic status. After that time-span, titles, castles, manor houses, or vast land tracts wouldn’t even cut upper class butter. And heaven help the climber who claimed a blood-line connection to the current Royal family. Those bourgeois Hanoverians? Piffle!

To give themselves more time to talk, Mick and Brad decided to take the Thames Walk along the river to the house, which could be reached through a pasture that led directly to its main entrance.

“How long after your affair did Jo marry Winfield?” Mick asked.

Brad winced a little. “You sure know how to hurt a bloke, Chandra.”

“Look Brad, if you want my help you’ve got to pony up some information, painful as it may be.”

“I know, I know. Well…let me see, not too long after she broke up with me — perhaps two months. I’m convinced that Winfield is the reason Jo dumped me.”

“Sounds like it. Did she ever contact you again after ending your affair?”

“A few times…she called, perhaps, three times shortly after her marriage, and then…well, nothing.”

“What did you talk about?” Mick asked.

“Jo did most of the talking,” Moody answered. “She claimed she missed me, and even once suggested that we meet — clandestinely, of course.”

“She was unhappy?”

“I assumed so,” Brad answered. “Or, perhaps, Jo was caught up in the throes of sentimentality…you know, for the lost, great love and that sort of drivel.”

“But she broke up with you, not the other way around.”

Moody stopped to observe some ducks swimming in the river parallel to them. “They expect us to throw them some bread,” he observed, ignoring Mick’s remark.

“Sorry, mates,” Mick called out. “No bread today.”

“Sweet, aren’t they?” Brad observed. “Truly God’s creatures. ‘Wish I were that good looking.”

This was typical of the chief constable. Mick was always touched at how tough Brad Moody was on the outside, yet soft on the inside. By nature he was “a nice bloke.” Yet the chief constable could be merciless in dealing with the perpetrators of crime. Mick once observed him saving an abandoned kitten in a rainstorm just minutes after he had flattened a yob attempting to rob a news agent’s shop.

“Still have that moggie?” Mick asked.

“What moggie…oh, the one I saved? Sadly, no. She died of old age some time ago. But I kept one of her kittens, after giving the others away to good homes, of course. Her name is Catwoman. She’s a love.”

“Is there a Batman in her life?”

“Not anymore. Batman has moved on to another cat — Wonder Woman moggie, I suspect.”

The two men continued their walk.

“Catwoman keeps me company on those cold, lonely nights,” Brad continued. “Come to think of it, she’s the most loyal female I’ve ever known.”

“Animals really are special,” Mick agreed. “Jess and I have a Scottie named Nessie and a moggie named Pickles. We wouldn’t trade them for gold.”

“You also have a daughter, don’t you, Mick?”

“Sarabeth. She’s sixteen months now, and a little she-devil. We love her to bits.”

Brad shook his head. “You of all people. Mick Chandra, former doxie bait, contentedly settled into domesticity, complete with family and pets. I can scarcely believe it. Oh, how I remember those wild Friday nights together at the local.”

“We even have a nanny,” Mick added for effect. “Ya Ya. She’s an elderly Greek widow and lives just up the street from us. We’re extremely fortunate to have her in our lives, what with my work schedule and Jess’.”

“Sounds like I should go to Stoke Newington for a visit one of these days…you know, just to observe how marriage is done right.”

Mick clapped Brad’s shoulder. “Any time, mate, any time.”

They paused at the edge of the pasture leading to Hedgerow Manor.

“Well, there it is: Jo’s family home,” Brad said, nodding toward the Gothic sandstone pile at the far end of the field. “Just watch out for the livestock flops,” he added, as they set out.

“Looks formidable,” Mick observed. “Jo’s mother still lives in that mausoleum?”

“She refuses to leave. ‘Claims she’ll have to be carried out feet first.”

Before sounding the entrance’s bell, both men checked the bottom of their shoes. Satisfied they were dunge-free, they rang.

“Think we’ll be sent around to the back — you know, like service people?” Mick whispered.

Moody chuckled.

Their ring was answered by a cordial middle-aged woman. That she was dressed entirely in black mourning did not detract from her still-attractive features.

“Chief Constable Moody, welcome. You’re certainly a sight for sore eyes. And who may this handsome young man be?”

“Estelle, Detective Chief Inspector Mick Chandra of New Scotland Yard. He and his partner, Detective Inspector Elizabeth Chang, have been assigned to Jo’s case.”

“Is Inspector Chang with you, as well?”

“I’m afraid she’s back at the Yard today finishing up some paper work on our previous case,” Mick explained.

Estelle extended a thin hand featuring long, tapered fingers. “Well then, welcome chief inspector. Come into the reception room and make yourselves comfortable. I’ll fetch Mrs. Eccleston.”

From what the two police officers could discern, the interior of Hedgerow Manor, once obviously plush, had now faded into a state of genteel shabbiness.

“This place could use a facelift,” Mick muttered.

“Since Mrs. Eccleston’s stroke five years ago, the old place has gone a bit grotty,” Brad admitted. “She sees no point in investing in renovation at this juncture. When she dies, the old place will go on the auction block, especially now that Jo isn’t around to inherit it.”

“Who will receive the proceeds?”

“Good question, Mick. I don’t know what Mrs. Eccleston’s intentions are as far as her estate is concerned.”

“Could it be that…?” Mick was interrupted by the appearance of Mrs. Eccleston whirring into the room on an electric wheelchair.

“Brad, it’s been much too long,” she said, extending her hand to him. “Just because Josephine didn’t have the sense to marry you doesn’t mean you’re persona non grata at Hedgerow Manor.”

Bowing slightly, Moody kissed the matron’s hand. “It’s lovely to see you again. I only wish the circumstances were happier ones.”

Unlike Estelle, Louise Eccleston eschewed black mourning, instead wearing a tweed skirt, twinset, and a string of pearls. Possibly in her 70s — or perhaps older — one could still detect the beauty she had once possessed, even through a mask of wrinkles. Despite her age her deep blue eyes spewed sparks, as if to convey, “I may be up in years and stuck in this damned wheelchair, but I’m far from finished.”

“Who is this?” she asked, nodding at Mick.

Brad made the proper introductions.

“So Inspector Chang is saddled with the paperwork, eh?” their hostess said.

“Often I’m the one stuck with it,” Mick explained. “We take turns.”

“I’ll bet you do.” The lady of the house gestured for the two men to sit.

“Now before either of you say anything,” she began, “I just want to make one thing clear. Not for a second have I ever regarded my daughter — my only child — as perfect. Jo led an adventurous life, to say the least. Although I didn’t approve, and though we quarreled about her lifestyle, still I loved her. But I never thought she was an angel. Far from it. She took a number of risks that made me blanch. Still, it was her life and hers alone. Protest as I might, there was no way I could change my daughter.”

“We’re just sorry that you lost her in such a…a tragic way,” Mick said.

“Did you know her?” Mrs. Eccleston challenged him.

“Not well,” he answered. “But she did interview me once on the BBC about a case Inspector Chang were investigating.”

The woman studied Mick for a moment. “Are you the police officer…the one who headed that case about the stolen Celtic cauldron. The solid gold one. What was it called…?”

“Yes. The Ravenhoe Cauldron.”

“Oh, that was ever so exciting, chief inspector. I followed the story in the daily press reports. Well done.”

“Mrs. Eccleston, I can’t take credit for breaking the case,” Mick explained. “Many other investigators were involved, and without their expertise, not to mention their courage, the cauldron in question would have never been retrieved.”

Whirring closer to him, the elderly lady studied Mick’s face. “Indeed,...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 19.12.2017
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Krimi / Thriller / Horror
• ISBN-10: 1-4675-8012-0 / 1467580120
• ISBN-13: 978-1-4675-8012-0 / 9781467580120