by Tony Salter
She leant back in her chair and tried to quieten her thoughts. Nothing to do but wait.
A cold, damp room, a blanket and a paper cup of water. That wasn't how she'd pictured the day unfolding.
Is That All?
June 10th 2015
It's time to close this diary. I can't believe I'm actually going to do what I'm going to do, but there's no better way. I'm certain now.
A part of me still wants to believe that I'm not losing my mind and that someone has been deliberately tormenting me. It can only be God and, although I know I'm not perfect, I don't understand what I have done to deserve this.
Whatever, or whoever, is responsible, I curse you. I curse you with my innocent death. I pray that my death will be a crushing yoke around your shoulders to remind you of what you have done to me, my husband and my innocent child.
To remind you for every day of your life and then into the hereafter forevermore.
I curse you.
'It's not looking good, is it?' I said.
'I'm sorry, Sam.' Liz was on her third double G&T and showed no signs of slowing down. 'As far as I've been told, things could be better. The police still need something to link Jax with the ammonia attack itself. The video footage is reasonably damning, but it's grainy and from an angle.'
'... and the phone evidence doesn't do enough?'
'Not really. At the moment the prosecution doesn't think a jury will convict on what we have.'
'And if they don't, she'll walk away?'
'Free as a bird. And she won't be the only thing to sprout wings. My friends in the force tell me that legal actions will start flying around within days.'
'I can't believe she's going to get away again. It's too depressing.'
'No point in assuming the worst at this stage,' Liz said, forcing a smile. 'We've still got a week before the trial and there's one more bit of DNA forensics which might give us what we need. Funnily enough, it's based on the nano-genetic technology developed by Professor Bukowski and he's agreed to work on it personally. We'll know more in a few days.'
'We'll just have to keep hoping I suppose.' I said, even though it sounded like a desperate long shot. 'If she's acquitted, she'll be coming after us as well.'
It was the first time I'd been 'inside' and, even though it was a women's prison, my overwhelming impression was one of too much testosterone. Doors clanged, locks clicked and clunked, and all around there were eyes staring.
For them, I was the equivalent of a woman walking past a building site. A piece of meat on display. Presented for assessment and comment – lewd, complimentary or dismissive – and then forgotten.
I hoped my dad hadn't been right when he'd warned me not to come. I think he was worried Julie would work her witchcraft on me one more time and make me suffer. He might also have been afraid that she would manage to convince me of her innocence and bring me over to her side.
I understood his fear, but he was wrong.
I could see her through the reinforced glass. She was sitting at the table, as beautiful as ever, calm and relaxed. It was easy to imagine how she was manipulating everyone around her – guards and prisoners alike – to get whatever she wanted.
As I walked in, she looked up at me and smiled. It was as though nothing out-of-the-ordinary had happened and we were meeting in a cocktail bar before dinner.
'Sam. How lovely to see you.' Julie's inner fire was undimmed. 'I hear you managed to lock yourself in the safe room and nearly died.'
I'd promised myself I wouldn't let her make me angry but she really was a twisted bitch. She was able to rebuild history brick-by-brick and make it true.'
'The fact that you forced me in at gunpoint might've had something to do with it, don't you think?' I said, sitting on the metal chair opposite her.
'Don't be such an idiot,' she said, laughing. 'Why would I do something like that? I told you the life support systems were faulty.'
'What? The systems you disabled?'
'You do have such an active imagination.' She leant towards me over the table. 'Was it a cry for help?'
'Like mother, like son. Is that it?'
She arched her eyebrows. 'Your words, dear boy. Your words.'
I found myself strangely immune to her digs and barbs. As I'd discovered more about her past – and especially the details of what she had done to my mother – it made it easier to see past her actress mask, to see through to the writhing snake pit of malice that lay within.
Contrary to my dad's fears, I was fine. If anything, I might have felt pity for her, but that was too much to ask and I was stuck with a cold contempt. Seeing her locked in here with the guards looming by the door was very satisfying.
'So, the trial starts tomorrow? You'll be old and wrinkled by the time you get out of here,' I said. Age scared Julie more than anything.
'Do you seriously believe they'll convict me?' She filled the words with condescension and contempt. 'I've got too much money, I've got the best lawyers and there are far too many people who'd rather not be my enemy.'
She looked at me with sad eyes. 'A little late for you, I'm afraid. When I get out ...' Her voice was hard and sharp, digging into me and I could feel my hands and knees shaking under the steel table.
Julie hadn't finished. 'You should have just stayed pretty and not tried to be clever. It was the same with your mother. Why couldn't you both have simply stayed happy and pretty rather than ruining everything?' Her melodramatic sigh was straight out of drama school. 'Never mind. I thought I'd taught you how the world works, but apparently not. People like me don't get convicted. There's no evidence. I've done nothing wrong.'
'You actually believe your own bullshit, don't you?' I said, pressing my quivering hands hard against my thighs. 'It's not working out so well for you so far though, is it? Six months in jail with no bail. And what about Pulsar? That must've stung a bit.'
If I hadn't known her so well, I might not have noticed the twitch at the corner of her mouth and the way she dropped her head. She wouldn't want me to see what was going on behind her eyes.
'A shame really. After all of that work.' I continued to work the knife in deeper. 'Still, Dave Bukowski's a great guy and it's all based on his research after all.'
'Great guy,' she spat and spluttered out the words, unable to stop herself. 'He's a lying Judas. His 'discoveries' weren't worth a thing on their own. It was my work. My strategy ...'
'Shame you didn't have a contract, then.' I was enjoying the unique experience of seeing Julie losing control. 'You know he would have signed with you, don't you?'
'What do you mean 'would have'?'
'I mean that he would have signed the contract with you as planned if only I hadn't told him what you did to my mother.'
Julie's eyes stretched wide open. 'But you had no proof I did anything. He wouldn't break our partnership just on hearsay. There was far too much at stake for him and for Imperial.'
'You really, really don't get it do you?' I said. 'You've actually not got a clue how normal people think. He believed me because he trusts me.'
That was Julie's Achilles' heel. She couldn't grasp the concept of trust.
I twisted the blade deeper still. 'Did you know that Dave's older sister killed herself on her seventeenth birthday? She was being cyberbullied and jumped in front of a train? When I told him about you and my mother, he was disgusted.'
Julie was snarling now, her lips pulled back from those delicate pointy incisors which I'd found so pretty once upon a time. 'You don't seriously think any of you will get away this, do you? I've got friends everywhere. When I get out, I'll break you both, just like I broke your mother.'
I had already stood up and was half way out of the door. If it hadn't been for the two prison officers, I think she might have physically attacked me.
Julie was still certain she would win and, as I looked at her, I could feel my mother standing beside me, holding my hand and giving me strength.
Julie was unbroken, but I wasn'
t finished.
'One more thing,' I said. 'I probably shouldn't tell you this, but you'll find out soon enough. They've got a positive DNA match on the glass from the ammonia-filled light bulb.'
She sneered and spat out her reply. 'I knew that already, but it proves nothing. I was young and ignorant and shouldn't have had them in my backpack, but that doesn't mean that I did anything with them. It doesn't link me with the attack on that policeman.'
'Sorry, I wasn't being clear,' I said. 'I'm not talking about the intact light bulbs that were in the backpack.' I could feel the weight of the heavy door pushing against me. 'As you say, that's old news. Now they've found your DNA on the shards of glass which they pulled out of the policeman's face and eyes. Nano-genetic analysis apparently.'
The door swung shut behind me and I saw a different person through the glass pane – shoulders slumped, eyes darting from side to side and deep furrows appearing in her brow as if from nowhere.
The magic was gone and she looked old and tired.
Thank you
Thank you for reading Best Eaten Cold. I hope you enjoyed it.
Please take a look at my Offers and Downloads page for free downloads and other offers. I also intend to run some competitions from time to time.
Writing novels is a wonderful job, but gets better and better when people enjoy reading your work. There are a huge number of books released every year and it is increasingly difficult for all of us to pick out the good ones, those which grip and hold you all the way through to the end ... and maybe leave you feeling a little differently about the world.
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The Old Orchard by Tony Salter
The family thriller that will grip you until the last page.
Finance Director, Alastair Johnson, is in trouble. He needs a lot of money, and he needs it very soon.
Alastair's solution is unorthodox and completely out of character – the fallout leaves his family torn apart.
But everything is not what it seems ...
_____________________________
"What a cracking story! Loved the way it all unfolded at the end. Really clever and credible and I didn't see the twists coming."
"FLIPPIN' BRILLIANT!"
"The Old Orchard is a pacy, tense, domestic thriller which builds an original and satisfying plot around real characters we can believe in. The prose is light and evocative with vivid descriptions and many moments of real insight and human wisdom."
_____________________________
The Old Orchard is AVAILABLE NOW in paperback or eBook format from Amazon and most booksellers.
About the author
Tony writes pacy contemporary thrillers. Exploring different themes, but all sharing Tony's thought-provoking plots and richly-painted characters.
Highlights of his early career include (in no particular order) three years as an oilfield engineer in the Egyptian desert, twelve years managing record companies for EMI Music in Greece, India and across Eastern Europe, running a caravan site in the South of France and being chauffeur to the French Consul in Sydney.
Having survived the Dotcom boom, he went on to be a founder of the world's largest website for expatriates, a major music publisher and a successful hotel technology business.
In amongst this, Tony found the time to backpack around the world twice (once in his twenties and once in his fifties), learn six languages (including Norwegian and Greek) and to find a beautiful Norwegian wife.
He now lives in Oxfordshire and writes full-time. He is fifty-eight and married with three children and four grandchildren.
Also by Tony Salter
Tony's second novel, The Old Orchard – a tense domestic thriller – was released in November 2017 to widespread acclaim.
Tony will publish his third novel, Sixty Minutes, in early 2018.
He is currently working on the sequel to Best Eaten Cold.
You can find out more about Tony at www.tonysalter.com
Acknowledgements
Writing novels is a solitary task but I don't think I could enjoy it without some company along the way. Feedback, encouragement and patient support are essential emotional props, but so are the sweeping blows of honest criticism which help to remind me that I am writing for readers and not only for myself.
I need to thank all of my friends and family for their help and, in particular, Sue, Aliki, Phil, Emma, Hugo, Jonas, Jenny and my father, Michael.
Feedback from 'real' readers is critical, but it needs to be balanced by objective, professional analysis and I am hugely grateful to Matilda, Alina, Raffaella and Rob of WME as well as the careful eye of Jamie Groves at Story Terrace.
Special thanks go to Claire Deniau for allowing me to use her beautiful painting, Crème Caramel, for the cover artwork of Best Eaten Cold. I have loved this picture for a very long time, but am slowly accepting that Claire will never part with the original.
Finally, I must thank my wife of twenty-eight years, Gro. Without her love, support, patience and tolerance, none of this would have been possible.
ETS Limited
Dawber House, Long Wittenham, OX14 4QQ
First published in Great Britain in 2017 by ETS Limited
Copyright © 2017 Tony Salter
Tony Salter has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patent Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental
ISBN: 978-0-9957977-1-0
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Cover art based on 'Crème Caramel and Silk' - Oil on canvas - 100 x 150 cm - Copyright © 2002 Claire Deniau