Cherringham--Murder Most Wild

by Neil Richards

  The words more like sobs.

  Sloane half-turned to him. ”And your dead brother?”

  More violent shakes. “You said … said that … if I could make him take the deal, do something to make the deal happen, I’d be rich.”

  “You bloody fool.”

  “I—I didn’t want him to be killed. Thought Hercules would just hurt him, that was all, and I, I—”

  Joel turned to the pen where the boars grunted in chorus, the sounds loud, as if reacting to his confession.

  “You set that fire. You murdered your brother, you stupid, bloody—”

  With each word Joel shook more violently.

  Jack fired a look to Sarah, beside him, hearing all this.

  And in that look, Jack missed as Sloane again grabbed Joel — just feet away — yanked him close, and then sent another fist flying towards the thin man’s face, as he shook his head, sobbing.

  Which is when Jack reached out and grabbed Sloane’s wrist, stopping the blow in mid-air.

  *

  Sarah watched. And as she watched she slid out her phone.

  Trying to understand what was happening here.

  Sloane having made promises to Joel. Joel wanting to hurt his brother. Maybe send him to hospital.

  And that goes all wrong.

  Fatally wrong.

  But then her thoughts were interrupted as Sloane reached out with his other hand and grabbed Jack exactly the same way he had grabbed Joel, tight at the collar of his winter parka, while he shook off Jack’s hand that held his wrist.

  And Sarah watched what happened next, as if on a stage, lit by the Sprite’s headlights as Sloane’s fist went crashing towards Jack.

  Which is when she saw Jack’s right forearm rise and send Sloane’s threatening fist flying uselessly to the side.

  And then — almost too fast to catch — she saw Jack’s left forearm do the same movement, breaking Sloane’s hold on Jack’s collar.

  Now with Sloane’s arms to the side, Jack quickly sent his own right fist flying into the man’s midsection.

  The sound it made — the blow unexpected — was a massive gush of air, audible even above the boar grunts.

  And then Sloane, gasping for breath, staggered as Jack sent just one more fist slamming into the same spot.

  He sure does know his stuff, Sarah thought.

  The second blow not only made Sloane’s efforts to breathe absolutely impossible, but it also sent him flying backwards to the mud where Sarah watched his large frame send great chunks of muck flying to the side.

  The scene seemed over.

  Sarah knew what she should do, and hit Alan River’s number on her phone. Quick words.

  “Alan. We’re at the Lewis’s farm. Better come quick.”

  This mess — in all respects — would now be a police matter.

  But then she saw Joel scramble up like a skeleton man.

  What now, she thought?

  Which is when she watched Joel race to the dark right corner of the boar pen. The headlights caught him throw a latch, then begin sliding a gate.

  A massive grunt responded to his efforts.

  He's going to set Hercules free!

  Maybe to attack Sloane, or Jack, or whatever crazed thought he had in his head.

  The man had completely panicked.

  Sarah yanked her trainers out of the grip of the mud and ran as best she could to where Joel was sliding the gate open.

  And thought, in for a penny …, as she rammed him full on.

  Joel’s weight no match for the tackle, he went flying to the side. Sarah turned to get up and came face-to-snout with Hercules.

  At the gate, only inches away, curved tusks so close, his breath making a smoky frost.

  And she slammed the partially open gate shut.

  Threw down the latch.

  And when she turned, she saw Jack, standing over Sloane.

  But looking at her.

  “Now that was a tackle,” he said.

  And even though Jack was backlit, she knew — if the headlights were on his face — that even after punching Sloane hard, he would once again have a big grin on his face.

  She smiled back.

  While in the distance, she saw the swirling coloured lights of a police car winding its way down to the farm.

  14. A Second Vote

  Sarah looked around the Village Hall.

  All the players from the previous council meeting on the Zakro Project where in the room — minus Sloane, of course — and the hall was packed again.

  But tonight there was no yelling; the angry placards were gone.

  Everyone knew what was going to happen now.

  And — for the most part — everyone probably thought that it was a good thing.

  Tony Standish — the new leader of the Parish Council (over his objections, of course) gently banged a gavel down on the table.

  Sarah looked at Jack.

  This was the end of a long process.

  And an investigation that had seemed to be going nowhere.

  Chloe sat next to her, eyes wide, big smile. Sarah gave her daughter’s hand a squeeze.

  Sarah could look past Jack, to the front row where Eva Weiss sat, her back straight. Her eyes locked on Tony.

  The only reason she was here was probably because her corporate minders said she must.

  This mess was certainly partly her doing.

  They wouldn’t just let her run out of town.

  “I now put the proposal to the Council to vote: To whit, that the Council approve the Zakro Corporation’s bid to build a supermarket on Ingleston Meadows.”

  The room became even quieter.

  Tony looked right at Sarah. Not one for the spotlight — he had to be convinced to even serve on the council, now here he was about to lead this historic vote.

  “Will those on the council who support that proposal, signify by raising their right hand and saying ‘aye’.”

  No more quick secret votes.

  Sarah — like the rest of the people in attendance — waited.

  Not a hand went up.

  Though she did see one member shuffle in his seat, his face looking disgruntled.

  Tony waited a moment.

  “And now, will all those who oppose the proposal, signify so by raising their right hand and saying ‘nay’?”

  And not exactly in unison, but rising none the less, the hands of all the council members went up, followed by ‘nays’, some mumbled, some shouted.

  And barely had those ‘nays’ been uttered, when the entire hall exploded in cheers and applause.

  It was over.

  Zakro would not be leaving its massive footprint on Cherringham.

  Jack clapped and then — perhaps forgetting this was England, after all — she watched him put two-fingers to his lips and whistle.

  But that sound, brash to be sure, seemed somehow apt for this great moment.

  *

  Sarah led Chloe out, Jack just behind … when she turned to see Tony hurrying just behind them.

  “Jack, Sarah, I’m wondering … to celebrate, and all. Want to pop over to my place for a quick festive glass of port?”

  Sarah looked at Jack.

  It would be nice … but she had Chloe, and …

  “Love to, Tony,” she said. “But I’d best get Chloe here—”

  But Chloe, still smiling from this victory that meant so much to her, moved in front of her mother.

  “Mum, you can drop me. Go celebrate. You two, what you did. You deserve it.”

  And Sarah nodded, once again so appreciative of just how great a daughter she had.

  Then turned to Jack—

  “I’m up for it,” he said.

  Tony said. “Settled! See you there in ten.”

  Then Tony turned to other villagers, most offering their hands in congratulations.

  He might not like the limelight, Sarah thought, but the limelight sure likes him.

  *

  Tony po
ured Sarah more of the port, then Jack.

  Jack held the bevelled glass up so it was lit by the roaring fire in Tony’s living room fireplace.

  She had never been here, but the house was so perfectly ‘Tony’. Tasteful, warm. With the chairs, rugs, all speaking of age and quality.

  And class.

  “This,” Jack said, “is delicious.”

  “Perfect,” Sarah said.

  And it was, the twenty-year-old port smooth, silky. A real treat.

  Tony meanwhile put the decanter down and conducted the music coming from his speakers. Not so loud that he couldn’t talk.

  “For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given …”

  And caught up in the moment, Jack came in, his voice a shade lower than Tony’s, repeating in harmony the lyrics of Handel’s masterpiece.

  For a moment — Sarah just enjoyed the port as the two men continued.

  Tony stopped.

  “So beautiful.”

  “That it is, Tony,” she said.

  But then Tony put down his crystal glass.

  “Jack, Sarah, there were a few things I was wondering about. With this Sloane business …”

  “Just a few?” Jack said grinning.

  Tony smiled as well. “I mean, how did you know that he’d head to the Lewis’s farm?”

  Sarah had been curious about that as well — though she had got used to Jack’s sudden bursts of insight, often based on his gut instinct.

  Jack nodded. “Well, not hard. Since I felt I had missed something. I confronted McEwan later — about his boots with all that pig mud. Turns out, he had gone to the farm, and seen someone in a big, fancy car, throwing his weight around with Joel … I just thought, maybe someone owes money to someone.”

  He took a breath.

  “I didn’t think anything of it … that is, once I felt McEwan had nothing to do with it.”

  Jack looked right at Tony.

  “But when Sloane bolted from the fire, like a man on a mission, like he knew who would want to do that to him, we had to follow him.”

  Tony nodded. “I see.”

  “And, of course, Sarah had found out all about how Sloane operated. That he’d desperately try to buy the Lewis brothers off, or pressure them …”

  “But then,” Sarah said, “he hadn’t faced someone like Sam Lewis.”

  “Or someone like Joel, who would take his words wrong, who’d be so desperate for that money that he’d be willing to hurt his brother.”

  Tony’s brow furrowed. “So, you don’t think, then, that Joel wanted to kill Sam?”

  Jack hesitated.

  “Not for me to say. He will have his day in court. But I think he thought he’d be sending his brother to the hospital. That Hercules would kill him … my opinion, I don’t think he planned on that.”

  A nod from Tony, then he turned to Sarah. “And by the way Sarah, I hear you did an amazing thing, stopping that beast from getting out and hurting Sloane—”

  “Or Jack,” she said. “Cost me a coat and a pair of jeans that I think are unrecoverable from the muck. But for Jack, anything’s worth it.”

  The words — she realised — had just popped out.

  Then Tony clapped his hands together.

  “Drop more anyone?” He quickly refilled the small glasses. “A toast.”

  Tony raised his glass.

  “To Cherringham,” Jack quickly said.

  And Sarah watched Tony smile, nod, “Yes, to Cherringham. And tonight, also to two people who have helped keep it the village we all love. A toast to you two, Jack. Sarah.”

  Sarah looked at her friend and partner.

  A toast to the two of them?

  Maybe … a bit too much.

  But with the wondrous music playing, with the fire still roaring, with their good friend Tony holding his glass in the air, they all clinked together.

  “And to good friends,” she added.

  When she looked at Jack, she noticed — just for the quickest moment — that Jack’s eyes had looked away.

  Off to the distance.

  Thinking about something.

  For that very moment — not here.

  But then, his eyes turned back, that smile returned.

  And they all took a holiday sip together.

  END

  Next episode

  When Alex King, leader of legendary 90s rock group Lizard, hosts a party to get the band back together, old grudges surface. At dawn Alex is found floating in the pool of his Cherringham mansion.

  To the police it's a drug-fueled accident. But when Jack and Sarah get involved, they quickly discover that while a song may never die — the person, who wrote it, might have been murdered.

  The Song Never Dies

  Cherringham — A Cosy Crime Series

  by Matthew Costello and Neil Richards

  Cherringham — A Cosy Crime Series

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