The Third Breath

by Malcolm Hollingdrake

  “Why leave the cocktail glass?” Nixon asked.

  “Jonathan Stephens said that he told him that it was because he was now getting the stuff from the cocktail bar, The Bauhaus. That may be but the cocktail glass was designed in such a way that it could be held by the stem so that the liquid in the bowl would remain cold. Maybe it was symbolic of a Dewar… unless he talks we’ll never know.”

  April looked across at Cyril. “You used to fly, sir. I find it difficult to believe that in this day and age people can still fly freely, not only in this country but also abroad, and land when and where they choose. They neither need a radio nor is it required to communicate their intentions. No wonder we see more and more drug and people trafficking.”

  Cyril just looked at her. “It’s about human freedom. There are rules in place in all walks of life, April. You’ll find those who will bend and corrupt them for their own ends. Considering the number of private pilot flights a year, very few are illegal or clandestine. Liberty is something we take seriously in this country and this should be exalted. On this occasion they might appear to have got away with a great deal over a considerable time but, like us all, eventually they made errors, and it was then that they were caught or, in this case, died. We cannot watch everyone all of the time.”

  43

  Cyril looked at the grey-washed sky that hung like wet sheets above the Pennine Hills. The M62, a ribbon of gloss black, snaked its way over the reservoir and beneath the concrete span of a bridge. The windscreen wiper, a metronome, kept time.

  Within minutes, they passed the isolated farm trapped between the two carriageways, the Little House on the Prairie as it was affectionately known to traffic reporters. As the red rose appeared to his left, the sky seemed lighter, a shallow crack revealing blue beneath.

  “Not enough for a pair of sailor’s trousers but it’s a start.”

  Julie heard nothing. Her eyes were closed and the sound of her breathing seemed to match the click of the wipers.

  Cyril pictured Thorndyke sitting within the confines of the interview room, his face displaying neither anger nor remorse, but static and mask-like throughout the whole of the one-sided interview. From the psychiatrist’s assessment, it was clear that Thorndyke was not of sound mind. According to his ramblings, it seemed to have been one moment in time when he felt rejected and no longer relevant. The relationship between Stephens and Baldwin had been the catalyst for his sudden and dangerous transformation. The injuries he had sustained and the sudden exposure of his negligence were the point at which the future was set.

  The thought of that one instant changing the lives of so many haunted Cyril. Suddenly he was again on his bicycle, touring the country lanes of his youth, excited to be riding home until he saw the car and heard the animalistic grunts, their faces, Wendy and his father locked in a bestial embrace. That was his moment, a second in time, where his anger and feelings of rejection had brought about a hatred of a man whom moments earlier he had loved. It was then that he felt a pang of sadness for Thorndyke, for had he been older, he wondered what he might have done when the red mist fell.

  A blast from a car horn brought Cyril back to the present. He swerved the car back onto his side of the road.

  “Are you okay?” Julie had opened her eyes.

  He quickly looked at Julie and counted his blessings. Someone somewhere was looking after him. He smiled and nodded. “Go back to sleep.”

  He pulled up just before the gates of the family home, knowing that he would make the decision about the Bentley’s fate. He had no need of it and yet everyone to whom he had spoken seemed to believe that he was the luckiest man alive. There was no option but to scrap it, to follow his father’s last and only request.

  The gravel beneath the wheels crunched a warm welcome as Wendy opened the door. A broad smile brought a youthful glow back to her eyes. Cyril allowed Julie to greet her first and then he gave her a hug, something he thought that he would never be able to do again. It felt right.

  “I’ve made crumpets, Cyril. I know you loved them as a boy.”

  He smiled and went inside. The sound of a classical piece of music streamed from the lounge, it was surprisingly familiar. Wendy saw him pause.

  “It was one of your father’s favourite pieces of music, surely you remember it, Cyril? It’s by Gorecki, it’s the Symphony of Sorrowful Songs.”

  It made Cyril stop; it was the same music that had taunted him in the videos. He smiled inwardly before turning to Wendy. “This world is full of coincidences and do you know what?” He held both her hands. “Sometimes we try to read too much into them.”

  After the crumpets and tea, Cyril walked towards the garage and Julie looked at Wendy, knowing just where he was going. Wendy winked and smiled.

  Dragging the cover away from the car, he stared at the cocooned behemoth that had plagued many of his waking moments since his last visit. He had resigned himself to the fact that it had to go, to be destroyed. He was a copper, for goodness’ sake, he could not be seen in this. Opening the door, he slid onto the leather bench seat and held the wheel; taped to it was an envelope. His name was clearly and neatly written in black ink. Opening it, he read the letter.

  Cyril,

  Julie tells me you have a bit of a dilemma. Your father has asked you to either keep the Bentley or destroy it. I know from my daughter that you have decided to scrap it. Now, that would be foolish as I have a better option. I’ll keep the old girl and look after her, drive and polish her just as your father would want and all you have to do is occasionally take Julie out for the odd spin. How does that sound?

  Best wishes,

  Fred.

  Cyril read it again and smiled. He had a solution. He wondered how this letter was here in the car when neither he nor Julie had been to the garage. He realised that Julie had been working with Wendy behind his back. She knew that in his heart of hearts, he needed to keep it.

  He let his hands caress the wheel and allowed his eyes to look along the sweeping bonnet. It made him realise just how much Julie meant to him and that very soon he needed to ask her a very important question.

  A Note from Bloodhound Books:

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  Readers who enjoyed The Third Breath will also enjoy

  Bad To The Bone by Tony J Forder

  The Third Rule by Andrew Barrett

  Acknowledgments

  ‘Watch the wall my darling while the Gentlemen go by.’

  ‘The Smuggler’s Song’ by Rudyard Kipling

  ‘Ay, but to die, and go we know not where;

  To lie in cold obstruction and to rot;’

  ‘Measure for Measure’ by William Shakespeare

  Concluding book seven, ‘The Third Breath’, is of great significance to me as a writer. Had someone said to me a few years ago that I would not only have written a successful crime series as a published author but that I would also be responsible for seven books… I would have been amazed. For this to happen I have many people to thank.

  If I knew just what makes a book successful I would have found the Holy Grail for authors. What I have realised is that it takes a great deal of hard work and soul-searching. I also know that the members of the many book and reader’s groups and the social media supporters, the bloggers and the readers are indispensable; they are the wind beneath a writer’s wings. I have been blessed by their
wonderful support.

  Without meeting and chatting with so many readers over the last two years, I would never have known the people who have supported the Bennett series and inspired me. Some of them have been with me from the very beginning and I am lucky that they have stayed and we have become friends.

  My first thanks, as always, go to my wife, Debbie. She never lost faith and has been so supportive throughout this adventure. I love you. x

  Bloodhound Books made a decision to sign an unknown author in July 2016 and it has been a pleasure working with them and watching them grow, not only in terms of the number of their dedicated staff, the now-burgeoning kennel of wonderful writers but also in Bloodhound Books’s standing within the world of publishing. Thank you and congratulations.

  I am lucky to have a guardian angel. Caroline Vincent was the very first person to comment as an advanced reader on my work and I know that without that initial intervention things might well have been so different. Your friendship, dedication and support are more than any author could wish for. Thank you. x

  To Debbie, Carrie Heap, Stef O’Leary, Christopher Nolan, Monica Mac and Kath Middleton for offering your thoughts and corrections on the initial draft of this novel. You are all so generous with your time, my sincere thanks.

  To Andrew Forsyth for your help and continued support.

  Imagined Things Bookshop, Harrogate. Always there with support and a healthy stock of Bennett books to sell. It’s wonderful working with you. Thanks, Georgia.

  Georgie and staff at Cordings, Harrogate.

  Dr C Gray - Thank you.

  Martin and Janet Keen, owners of Liverpool Flying School. Thank you for showing me around the aircraft and answering my many questions. It was lovely to come back into the fold.

  To a friend who has spent a lifetime working in cryogenics and for the hours spent in conversation. You know who you are. Cheers.

  Thanks too must go to the following people for their support with this novel: Claire Bent – thank you for your technical advice regarding the Jaguar – Michelle Corbin, Dee Williams, Craig Gillan, Pete and Ann MacNamara, Morgen Bailey, Nik Plumley, Nancy Doherty, Stephen Barr, Christopher Holland, Donna Wilbor and Alison Wheat and staff at the Harrogate Library.

  I hope you like your character, Chris Mott. Your continued support is very much appreciated.

  I must also thank Nicholas Camm, the voice behind the Bennett audiobooks.

  I feel sure that I have missed someone – my apologies, if so.

  Emily Shutt - a princess, a warrior and a little angel.

  Finally, I have self-published a short story on Amazon entitled ‘The Penultimate Man’ to commemorate the one hundred years since the conclusion of WW1. All the author royalties will be donated to the Poppy Appeal. If you can support this worthy cause I would be most grateful.

  Thank you.

  Malcolm

  Only The Dead

  DCI Bennett Book 1

  Are you looking for a gripping, unique, and best-selling crime series?

  Meet DCI Cyril Bennett, a man with a passion for manners and efficiency, as well as an eye for the ladies. His partner, DS David Owen, is naïve and untidy but keen. Together they make a formidable pair.

  When the discovery of two infants’ bodies is made at a Teacher Training College, Bennett and Owen are given the case. Soon a number of suspects are identified.

  At the same time, a killer is on the loose staging attacks using sulphur mustard.

  Is there a link between the infants’ bodies and the sulphur mustard attacks?

  Do the answers lie in the past or the present?

  Bennett and Owen must work together to bring to justice a killer with revenge on his mind.

  Order Your Copy Here

  Hell’s Gate

  DCI Bennett Book 2

  A disused railway tunnel where cruel and sinister deeds are executed.

  A policeman on a mission.

  A killer who will stop at nothing.

  The formidable DCI Cyril Bennett and DS David Owen of Harrogate Police find themselves embroiled in a series of bizarre events.

  A domestic dog attack on a child soon leads to a more complex case - the macabre discovery of a jigsaw of featureless, indiscernible body parts amongst bin bags littering a quiet road on the outskirts of the town.

  While under the leadership of a Chinese Mafioso, a team of Eastern Europeans spreads its tentacles into the sordid underworld of people trafficking, dog fighting, prostitution and murder.

  Bennett quickly has his hands full investigating a gambling syndicate, the discovery of a mutilated corpse, the death of a prostitute and the case of a badly beaten police officer.

  As Bennett and his team are stretched to capacity cracks begin to appear.

  Is there a link between these cases and can they catch a twisted killer before he strikes again?

  Order Your Copy Here

  Flesh Evidence

  DCI Bennett Book 3

  In Harrogate, things are about to get weird.

  Jars of honey containing pieces of tattooed flesh are the first clue in the search for the whereabouts of a missing fourteen-year-old boy. Then another boy goes missing and further jars of honey are discovered.

  Serial kidnappings taking place in Harrogate and the culprit is unlike any other Bennett has dealt with before.

  A number of leads seem to be going nowhere and the police are running out of time.

  Can Bennett and his team catch a psychopath before any more damage is done?

  This will be his toughest case yet.

  Order Your Copy Here

  Game Point

  DCI Bennett Book 4

  DCI Bennett faces the most harrowing case of his career. A psychopath, who escaped capture, is hell-bent on revenge and executes a series of events that will not only impact on Bennett physically but will have emotional and professional consequences.

  A body is found with its fingers amputated, then an investigative journalist, embroiled in the pornography and drugs scene, is murdered.

  Bennett’s team is faced with some baffling evidence. Hatpins and bicycle spokes become pivotal to the inquiry but the police struggle to connect the evidence.

  It is only when a Detective Sergeant from the team is kidnapped that Bennett realises that he is the true target.

  Can Bennett solve the case before it’s too late? How many people will he lose in the process?

  Order Your Copy Here

  Dying Art

  DCI Bennett Book 5

  Following his recovery from a personal and professional trauma, Detective Chief Inspector Cyril Bennett has been declared medically fit to resume his police duties. He returns to discover a complex case involving the art world.

  Soon Bennett unearths a dark side of the industry where greed, ambition and dubious practices thrive and, where there is money to be made, violence and murder are never far away.

  Working their way through a maze of galleries, museums and the internet, Bennett’s team struggles to make sense of the evidence.

  Can Bennett tell the difference between what is real and what is fake?

  Order Your Copy Here

  Crossed Out

  DCI Bennett Book 6

  DCI Bennett and his team are back and called to a house in Ripon that has collapsed into a sinkhole where a body is discovered.

  Soon old weathered Remembrance Crosses are found dug up. Each one numbered.

  DC April Richmond is assigned to help the team due to her impressive biblical knowledge and soon makes a startling discovery.

  Meanwhile, Gideon Fletcher is walking around the streets of Harrogate distributing religious texts. Is there a link between Gideon and the crosses? Do the crosses have anything to do with the body in the house?

  Bennett and the team find themselves wondering if the killer is exacting revenge or punishment and whatever the answer, they soon realise the clock is ticking.

  Order Your Copy Here

   

  Malcolm Hollingdrake, The Third Breath