Cherringham - A Dinner to Die For

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Cherringham - A Dinner to Die For Page 10

by Matthew Costello


  “What?”

  “Trust me,” said Jack. “All will be revealed, I promise. Oh, and put your belt on, will you? May have to drive a little fast. Don’t want to lose them.”

  And he accelerated down the main road that led out of Cherringham – Paddy’s VW still just visible in the distance ahead.

  17. Back to the Farm

  Sarah slid her Rav-4 to a halt on the gravel drive outside Karl Desmond’s house and jumped out.

  She looked across the drive: there was Lisbet’s Mini; Karl’s SUV; Jack’s Austin-Healey Sprite, both doors open.

  And beyond them, a red VW.

  In the passenger seat she could just see Izzy, headphones on, eyes closed, nodding.

  She turned and looked at the house, the front door wide open. And from inside the house she could hear raised voices.

  The whole scene like the climax to a police raid.

  She headed into the house.

  *

  “Listen… all I want’s my effing money,” said Paddy, looking round the room. “Then I’m gone. All right?”

  “Afraid you’re not going anywhere, Paddy,” said Jack. “Not until we clear up exactly what’s been going down.”

  He took a side step towards the door, closing the circle on the heavy-muscled chef.

  Ahead of him, Karl and Lisbet stood together, the shock of the sudden intrusion into the domestic afternoon visible on their flushed faces.

  To his left – Anna – solid, fists clenched as if ready for a fight herself.

  A noise behind him – he turned – to see Sarah suddenly in the doorway, breathless, eyes wide.

  Five against one, thought Jack. Pretty good odds.

  “Hi Sarah,” said Jack, without taking his eyes off Paddy.

  “Hey Jack. Um, Anna, Karl, Lisbet,” she said. “And hello Mr Fitzgerald.”

  “Perfect timing if you don’t mind me saying,” said Jack.

  “What the bloody hell are you talking about?” said Paddy, his fists flexing, looking now at Jack, his voice a snarl.

  “Sarah?” said Jack. “To begin, care to tell Paddy here what you’ve been up to this afternoon?”

  She took a breath and came closer.

  “Sure. You see, Paddy, I’ve just come from Carter’s fish wholesalers,” said Sarah. Then she turned to Anna: “Oh, Anna – Mrs Carter sends her regards, says she hopes you’ll start buying from them again soon. Enjoyed those little chats.”

  “Mrs Carter?” said Anna, clearly not understanding what was happening. “The fish market? I–”

  “And you remember Mrs Carter – don’t you Paddy?” said Sarah, now turning to the sous chef.

  “Eh?”

  “I know,” said Sarah. “Week before Christmas – such a long time ago. But let me jog your memory. You bought a case of oysters there. A whole case. Must have been pretty heavy, no?”

  Jack saw Paddy frown, his eyes flicking from Sarah to Anna.

  “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking–”

  “Wait,” said Anna, looking at Sarah. “You mean he went there?”

  Then she turned to Paddy: “You went to Carter’s? Why? I collected our order. Just like I always do. You didn’t need to go there. You bought oysters? But I would have seen it on the invoices.”

  Jack raised a hand.

  “But you paid cash, didn’t you, Paddy? Very clever. So nobody would be able to trace them.”

  “This is all lies,” said Paddy. But Jack could see he was floundering.

  And Jack had a thought: Cornered… Paddy might be dangerous.

  And while this confrontation was not without its fun aspects, still…

  Best be careful.

  “What did you do with the oysters, Paddy?” said Jack, picking up the baton from Sarah.

  Paddy’s eyes darted from Jack to Sarah and back…

  “Let me guess,” said Sarah. “You kept them chilled. Probably in the fridges at the Bayleaf. Looked after them perfectly. But then – maybe that very day you brought them out to be shucked – you soaked them in foul water for an hour or two. Water you knew carried a whole soup of bacteria, viruses – you name it. Though – let’s be honest here, Paddy – I doubt you could name it.”

  “But the end result,” said Jack, “every one of those diners in the Bayleaf that night ended up seriously ill. Some in hospital. One lucky to be alive.”

  “This is rubbish,” said Paddy. “You can’t prove it – any of it.”

  Jack nodded to Sarah, who then turned to Desmond.

  One more card to play.

  “Well maybe, Karl, you can help us with the next interesting little fact I discovered about our friend Mr Fitzgerald…”

  “Me?” said Karl. “I-I’m not sure I know what you mean.”

  “You’re Paddy’s boss, isn’t that right?” said Sarah.

  “Well, yes, er, in an indirect sort of way. I mean, Anna really–”

  “More than bloody indirect – you’re the bugger that’s supposed to pay me off,” said Paddy, turning to Karl and taking a couple of steps forward.

  Deer in headlights, Karl shrunk back.

  “Er… Yes, I do run the payroll, if that’s what you mean,” said Karl, stepping back.

  But then, with a faint touch of bravado he took a step forward: “However, Paddy, if you really mean what you say – that you’re just walking away from the job now – then I shall have to look at the contractual position with regards to fair notice periods and so on.”

  “Don’t give me that flannel,” said Paddy. Jack watched him bunch his fists.

  Thinking: Paddy still really believes that this is going to end well.

  “You give me my damn cash now, or else–”

  Time for Jack to disabuse Paddy of his plans.

  “Or else you’ll tell everyone how you and Karl have worked together for years, that right, Paddy?” said Sarah.

  “What?” said Anna. “Mr Desmond – you never told me that!”

  “I didn’t feel you needed to know,” said Karl. “Not important at all!”

  “What? That you put a spy in my kitchen?” said Anna, herself stepping forward to Karl.

  Bad day in the Desmond household.

  Jack looked at Sarah – impossible not to smile at her.

  “Paddy wasn’t my spy,” said Karl. “I had to hire him, I had no choice…”

  “Let me guess,” said Lisbet, turning on Karl too.

  Jack saw all eyes in the room swivel to Karl’s wife.

  This thing is running itself, he thought.

  “You had to employ Paddy,” she said, “because the guys in Sheffield told you to!”

  Jack saw Karl retreat from Lisbet.

  No safe quarter here.

  “I thought you’d walked away from all that,” she said, her finger now raised at her husband. “Those money people! You promised.”

  “Sweetheart,” said Karl, “I did try to, but–”

  “You took their money, didn’t you?” she said. “To open my restaurant.”

  “My restaurant,” said Anna.

  “Okay – our restaurant,” said Lisbet.

  “Whose money?” said Sarah. “Whose money did he use, Lisbet?”

  “Back in Sheffield,” said Lisbet, turning back to the group, “Karl ran restaurants for some people who… let’s say… don’t always work on the right side of the law.”

  “Guessing what we’d call back in little old New York… the mob,” said Jack.

  He turned to Paddy. “So let me guess. These guys financed Karl to open the restaurant here–”

  “I did it for you, Lisbet,” said Karl. “Only for you. You wanted to be here in Cherringham. With a starred chef. I couldn’t have afforded it otherwise. I had to take–”

  “Oh shut up, Karl,” said Lisbet.

  Jack checked everybody had finished then continued: “Anyways – the Bayleaf opened and the bad guys had a big stake in it. And at first it started to go very well and everybody was happy. Maybe they�
��re even cleaning money as it goes through the accounts. Guys like that, see, they have a habit of doing that when they run a legit operation. They just can’t resist.”

  He waited for someone to disagree – but nobody did.

  Good, he thought. I think I have this.

  “But then – the restaurant’s barely opened and the bad guys in Sheffield decided they wanted out. Who knows why? Liquidity problems? Deal not working out? Whatever – they wanted their money back. Maybe with interest. Am I right, Karl?”

  He saw Karl shrug. Anna and Lisbet’s eyes narrowed.

  Oh boy, Karl, your trouble is only just beginning, thought Jack.

  “So, as planned, they cash in their insurance – our good friend Paddy here. Their very own man in Cherringham.”

  Everybody looked at Paddy who, for the first time, looked guilty.

  “And Paddy gets going on the new strategy: slowly pulling the plug on the restaurant. The booking system. The reviews. Oh – nice work online by the girlfriend by the way, Paddy, very clever, but we’ll come to that later. Then he starts on the little tricks. The oldest ones in the book: food poisoning, rats, flood. Everything but a plague of locusts. But still, Anna keeps going. She’s a tough cookie. And the restaurant stays open. Damn thing just won’t close. The guys back in Sheffield – they’re losing patience. Oh – stop me if I’m getting this wrong?”

  Jack looked around at the group. But nobody said a word.

  “Course – to make it all work, Paddy had to find himself a patsy to lay it all off on. Don’t want the insurance people digging too deep, hmm? Need someone to take the blame. Someone with their own motive for closing the Bayleaf. Someone with a useful grudge against the chef maybe? And guess who – totally by chance – turns out to be living just down the road? Yep, the perfect scapegoat: Sam Walters.”

  “Wait – you mean Sam had nothing to do with this?” said Anna, looking at Jack, her head shaking in disbelief.

  “Nothing apart from letting himself be played,” said Jack. “Isn’t that right, Paddy? Bet you couldn’t believe your luck.”

  Jack sensed Paddy looking for an escape route.

  Better cut to the chase, he thought.

  “So – time to really pull the trigger for good – burn the place down. And then – lucky bonus – Sam of all people turns up just after you set the fire. Course – by now – you’ve got Sam totally obsessed. He couldn’t stay away from the Bayleaf, could he?”

  “It’s bloody lies!” said Paddy. “Lies!”

  And as Paddy spun round Jack noticed his sleeve ride up – revealing an angry burn on his arm.

  “Guess you got that,” Jack said, “when you lit the place up, hmm? I thought it was odd how you got there so quickly, given how far from the Bayleaf you live…”

  He saw Paddy look down at his arm – and then a second too late, Jack knew what he was going to do.

  The burly sous chef launched himself across the room, surprisingly fast, catching Jack off-balance, pushing him out of the way and heading for the door.

  But as Jack shifted his weight to stop from falling, he saw the rest of the room react to the getaway.

  Sarah’s leg slid out to catch Paddy. The escaping chef flipped up in the air as he lost his balance – landing crash against a heavy table, his big head whiplashing back and his arm cracking against the stone surround of the fireplace.

  Anna seemed almost to fly through the air and dive onto Paddy’s sprawling body. A knee into his stomach that made the sous chef gasp.

  Lisbet ran across the room, taking the coffee table in her stride like a show-jumper and leapt onto the sous chef too.

  Sarah applied the coup de grâce by spinning round and planting her full weight on her knees on Paddy’s one free arm.

  “Bloody hell,” said Karl.

  Paddy groaned. “It’s not my fault,” he said. “They were going to give me my own restaurant, they promised.”

  Jack looked around at the carnage, just as Izzy appeared at the open door and stared at the scene.

  “What? Typical,” she said, removing her earbuds and staring down at Paddy. “I guess that means I’m not going to get paid then.”

  And she turned and headed back out of the door.

  Jack caught Sarah’s eye…

  And couldn’t help laughing out loud.

  *

  Outside, on the gravel drive, Sarah walked over to Jack as they watched Alan lead a handcuffed Paddy to the patrol car.

  “Enjoy the show?” she said.

  “Muchly. Would have been great on YouTube.”

  “Would it ever…”

  Jack looked on as Alan got in, and started to drive his prisoner away. Thinking: All will be well with Sam. With the Spotted Pig. Even Anna.

  And, for now, Cherringham itself.

  Though there was still the question of pulling off Lady Repton’s charity dinner.

  But he guessed – that would turn out just fine. Anna was a great chef, and people would pitch in. Maybe even he and Sarah could help behind the scenes.

  “So… we’re done here?” Sarah said.

  “Yeah. Seems that way.”

  He turned to her: “Not a bad outcome, hmm?”

  “For Julie and Sam… it couldn’t be better. Shame there’s no place in the village to have a celebratory dinner tonight! At least not until Sam’s back in action.”

  “Whoa? Let’s not discount a dinner on the Goose?”

  “Never. But… maybe not seafood this time?”

  He laughed.

  “You’re right. Think I’m done with seafood for a while too. How about a pair of juicy rib-eyes?”

  “And martinis?”

  “Perfect. The traditional end to a successful case, hmm?”

  And as he watched Alan drive away, he turned. Off to the side, where he’d parked his Sprite, he could see Anna, waiting.

  Anna. Have to give her a ride back to the village.

  Her restaurant gone.

  What next for her?

  He had to admit – maybe there was something there.

  Just because she was a fellow New Yorker, he wondered?

  Or–

  Something else?

  Anna smiled at the two of them.

  “You’d better go,” said Sarah.

  A smile from her as she nodded; dinner and post-mortems to come.

  Jack looked at Anna, then back at Sarah, feeling that this moment was somehow important.

  “Go on, Jack,” said Sarah. “I’ll catch you later.”

  He nodded, then turned and walked back to his car.

  He saw Anna smile at him.

  “Heading back into the village?” she said.

  “Sure,” he said, walking round to the driver’s side. “Um, need a ride?”

  “Thought you’d never ask,” she said.

  Over Anna’s shoulder, as she climbed into the little sports car, Jack watched Sarah pull away in her old RAV-4.

  He climbed in and started the engine.

  “Quite a day,” said Anna.

  “Tell me about it,” said Jack.

  And he pointed the Austin-Healey Sprite towards Cherringham, and home.

  The End

  Cherringham — A Cosy Crime Series

  Do you like what you’ve read so far? Please let us know by leaving a comment or a rating where you purchased this eBook. Your feedback improves the story. Happy reading!

  Matthew Costello, Neil Richards

  The Body in the Woods

  A Cherringham Mystery

  It's Carnival week in Cherringham, but while most of the locals are looking forward to the regatta, the parade and the fireworks, Jack and Sarah are more interested in the mysterious body that's been uncovered at the archaeological dig just outside the village ...

  No Roman soldier - but a young man, no ID. Definitely the victim of a cold blooded murder ... from just a few decades ago.

  It's a baffling cold case - but one that soon heats up when a member of the carnival c
ommittee suddenly goes missing. Jack and Sarah investigate - and quickly come up against a wall of silence. Are the two cases connected? What dark secret from Cherringham's past is being kept hidden?

  As the Carnival rolls to its spectacular finale, Jack and Sarah race against time to stop the murderer before they kill again ...

  For fans of Agatha Christie's Miss Marple series, Lilian Jackson Braun's The Cat Who series, Caroline Graham's Midsomer Murders, and the American TV series Murder She Wrote, starring Angela Lansbury.

  Co-authors Neil Richards (based in the UK) and Matthew Costello (based in the US), have been writing together since the mid 90's, creating content and working on projects for the BBC, Disney Channel, Sony, ABC, Eidos, and Nintendo to name but a few. Their transatlantic collaboration has underpinned scores of TV drama scripts, computer games, radio shows, and - most recently - the successful crime fiction series Cherringham. First released as eBook novellas, this is the second full-length novel. Cherringham is popular around the world and has been adapted as a series of audiobooks in both English and German.

  Neil Richards, Matthew Costello

  Dead in the Water

  A Cherringham Mystery

  On the night of the school prom, a young teacher is found dead in the Thames in a drug-related accident. It seems - at first - to be another sign that Cherringham High is spiralling out of control. The new head however is convinced that the teacher's death is suspicious and quietly calls in Sarah Edwards.

  With her one-time detective partner, Jack Brennan, back in America, Sarah is at first reluctant to take on the case. But when she does get involved, it soon becomes clear that the tragic accident might really be a case of murder - and even Sarah herself could be in danger...

  "Dead in the Water" is the first full-length novel set in the sleepy English village of Cherringham, featuring the unlikely sleuthing duo Sarah, an English web designer, and Jack, American ex-cop. Thrilling and deadly - but with a spot of tea - it's like Rosamunde Pilcher meets Inspector Barnaby.

 

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