Cherringham - Episode 13-15 E-Book

Matthew Costello

• Herausgeber: Bastei Lübbe
• Kategorie: Krimi
• Serie: Cherringham: Crime Series Compilations
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 371

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016

Beschreibung

Jack's a retired ex-cop from New York, seeking the simple life in Cherringham. Sarah's a Web designer who's moved back to the village find herself. But their lives are anything but quiet as the two team up to solve Cherringham's criminal mysteries.

This compilation contains episodes 13 - 15:

A LESSON IN MURDER
When Jack and Sarah are called in to investigate mysterious pranks at Cherringham Girls School, it seems at first that it might be the work of a few mean pupils with a grudge. But things quickly turn serious when a popular teacher meets a sudden, violent death.

THE SECRET OF COMBE CASTLE

When the penniless FitzHenrys find themselves victims of a threatening campaign to oust them from their ancestral home, Jack and Sarah are called in to track down the culprit. Soon they discover that truth is often stranger than fiction, and in Combe Castle things do indeed go bump in the night...

A FATAL FALL
Dylan McCabe - a labourer on a rushed Cherringham building project - has been complaining about the site’s lack of safety. When he’s discovered dead after a fall, it seems that Dylan’s own warnings were all too true. Jack and Sarah get involved, and suddenly what looks like an accident, becomes a case of cold-blooded murder.

Cherringham is a serial novel à la Charles Dickens, with a new mystery thriller released each month. Set in the sleepy English village of Cherringham, the detective series brings together an unlikely sleuthing duo: English web designer Sarah and American ex-cop Jack. Thrilling and deadly - but with a spot of tea - it's like Rosamunde Pilcher meets Inspector Barnaby. Each of the self-contained episodes is a quick read for the morning commute, while waiting for the doctor, or when curling up with a hot cuppa.

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. Now into its second season of 12 novellas, Cherringham is popular around the world and has been adapted as a series of audiobooks in Germany.

Leseprobe

Contents

Cover

Cherringham — A Cosy Crime Series

The authors

Main Characters

A Cosy Crime Series Compilation

Copyright

A Lesson in Murder

The Secret of Combe Castle

A Fatal Fall

Next Compilation — Episodes 16—18

Cherringham — A Cosy Crime Series

“Cherringham — A Cosy Crime Series” is a series made up of self-contained stories. A new episode is released each month. The series is published in English as well as in German, and is only available in e-book form.

The authors

Matthew Costello (US-based) is the author of a number of successful novels, including Vacation (2011), Home (2014) and Beneath Still Waters (1989), which was adapted by Lionsgate as a major motion picture. He has written for The Disney Channel, BBC, SyFy and has also designed dozens of bestselling games including the critically acclaimed The 7th Guest, Doom 3, Rage and Pirates of the Caribbean.

Neil Richards has worked as a producer and writer in TV and film, creating scripts for BBC, Disney, and Channel 4, and earning numerous Bafta nominations along the way. He's also written script and story for over 20 video games including The Da Vinci Code and Starship Titanic, co-written with Douglas Adams, and consults around the world on digital storytelling.His writing partnership with NYC-based Matt Costello goes back to the late 90's and the two have written many hours of TV together. Cherringham is their first crime fiction as co-writers.

Main Characters

Jack Brennan is a former NYPD homicide detective who lost his wife two years ago. Being retired, all he wants is peace and quiet. Which is what he hopes to find in the quiet town of Cherringham, UK. Living on a canal boat, he enjoys his solitude. But soon enough he discovers that something is missing — the challenge of solving crimes. Surprisingly, Cherringham can help him with that.

Sarah Edwards is a web designer who was living in London with her husband and two kids. Three years ago, he ran off with his sexy American boss, and Sarah’s world fell apart. With her children she moved back to her home town, laid-back Cherringham. But the small town atmosphere is killing her all over again — nothing ever happens. At least, that’s what she thinks until Jack enters her life and changes it for good or worse …

Matthew CostelloNeil Richards

CHERRINGHAM

A COSY CRIME SERIESCOMPILATION

Episode 13—15

BASTEI ENTERTAINMENT

Digital original edition

Bastei Entertainment is an imprint of Bastei Lübbe AG

Copyright © 2016 by Bastei Lübbe AG, Schanzenstraße 6-20, 51063 Cologne, Germany

Written by Matthew Costello and Neil Richards

Edited by Sean Sinico

Project editors: Lori Herber, Kathrin Kummer

Cover illustration © shutterstock: Buslik | Bastian Kienitz | Steve Heap

Cover design: Jeannine Schmelzer

E-book production: Urban SatzKonzept, Düsseldorf

ISBN 978-3-7325-2126-5

www.bastei-entertainment.com

Matthew CostelloNeil Richards

CHERRINGHAM

A COSY CRIME SERIES

A Lesson in Murder

1. Sink or Swim

Sophie White raced up the back stairs of Florence House, her footsteps on the worn stone echoing in the cold space as she climbed the three floors.

Damn, damn, double damn, I’m going to be late, she thought. Prep’s never supposed to over-run on a Saturday, this is so unfair …

At the top of the stairs she pulled open the heavy fire door that led to the Sixth Form dorms, ran past the crowded common room, and the kitchen where she glimpsed the usual weekend breakfast crowd.

Oh, cheese on toast, if only I could join in …

But even if she had time, she wasn’t sure she’d be welcome. Freya and her crowd would be in there.

And since the new term started they’d been blanking her.

She reached the end of the corridor, pushed hard on the door to her own room, and in one move flung her laptop bag onto her bed.

“Walk, don’t run,” came a voice from the other bed.

Sophie looked over: her roommate Hannah was lying back against the pillows watching something on her iPad, her hand hovering over the shared biscuit tin.

“Walking’s for Year Sevens,” said Sophie digging into her wardrobe, clothes flying. “Can I borrow your tracksuit? Mine’s covered in mud.”

“Gross,” said Hannah with a shrug, munching on a biscuit.

Sophie didn’t need a yes — after six years of school together it was unspoken.

What’s yours is mine, mine yours. Live fast, die together. Friends till the end. No lies, no secrets.

Each time they moved up a year at Cherringham Hall School for Girls, she and Hannah had bound themselves tighter to each other with a new motto. And now they were in their last year, full-on Sixth Formers, just three terms to go before …

Sophie stopped herself thinking about that. About leaving. It made a pit in her stomach. Way too scary.

“So what’s the rush? Seeing someone?” said Hannah. “Secret admirer?”

“As if …” said Sophie. “I’m running the Minnows club for Ms. Braithwaite.”

“Tough,” said Hannah. “Duty calls.”

“Exactly.”

“Hey — did you know you’re late?”

“Very funny.”

She grabbed her swimming costume, Hannah’s tracksuit and a pair of trainers, then reached over, and pulled out a handful of biscuits from the tin.

“Seventy calories each,” said Hannah.

“Doesn’t count,” said Sophie heading for the door. “It’s breakfast.”

“That make a difference?”

“Duh, yes. Latest research.”

“Gotta love science.”

Sophie raced out. “Laters …” she said, over her shoulder.

“Still on for Oxford this afternoon?” she heard Hannah say, as she turned into the corridor.

“Can’t wait!” she shouted back, then she was off heading for the stairs again.

She checked her watch. Three minutes — she might just make it.

*

Being late — for anything — was a cardinal sin at Cherringham Hall. Sophie knew the ethos back to front and upside down, it was drilled into all the girls from their first term:

‘Cherringham girls will be bright, independent, free-thinking, creative, confident, resourceful, tolerant — and above all, reliable.’

And the teachers made it clear that while most of those qualities might take a while to develop, the bit about ‘reliable’ — being on time — was one that had to be acquired immediately.

She wheeled off the main school corridor and took a short cut through the Dining Hall.

As she slalomed past the formal tables, she glanced up at the portraits of Cherringham alumni on the walls — explorers, poets, politicians, novelists, Nobel-prize winning scientists, businesswomen, International sportswomen.

Sophie and Hannah used to joke that the reason they’d all succeeded was that they were never late.

And generally, now that she was a laid-back Sixth Former, Sophie wasn’t that bothered about being a few minutes late. But today was different.

Just a few days ago, on the very first day of term, Ms. Braithwaite had called Sophie into her study and told her that she — yes, she, Sophie White — was to be this year’s House Guardian. Short of School Captain, House Guardian was the most responsible position in the whole school.

Now Sophie was terrified of letting Ms. Braithwaite down.

Ms. Braithwaite was the most … perfect teacher in the whole school. Everybody loved her. And she in turn knew everyone in the House, knew all their problems, all their fears and struggles.

If Ms. Braithwaite liked you, if she valued you, there was nothing you couldn’t do. House Guardians chosen by Ms. Braithwaite were out there now in the world now doing brilliant things. Sometimes you saw them on the news being interviewed.

Sometimes they were even doing the interviews, dressed in those big jackets and helmets they wear in war-zones.

Through the big main front door now, Sophie hit the gravel at the side of the Hall at speed. Out here, autumn leaves billowed in the cold wind — she knew there’d be no teachers around to tell her off for running.

Only Tahir the caretaker’s son, trimming the hedges. She saw him look up and watch her as she ran past, then turn back to his work …

Being late would be unforgivable. The Minnows — the Year Seven swimming club — was Ms. Braithwaite’s pride and joy. Being asked to run it was not just a responsibility. It was a privilege.

Ahead she could see the glass and steel of the brand new sports hall — The Prince Said Building. The plush lobby area — where the girls were supposed to wait — looked empty …

Oh no, they’ve already gone through, she thought, pulling open the door, and feeling a blast of warmth.

The entrance to the pool was down a flight of stairs at the far end of a glass corridor which gave onto the gym.

She jogged along the corridor. Through the glass she could see plenty of familiar faces from all years pounding treadmills, rowing, spinning … Some smiled and waved.

She took the stairs to the pool two at a time. The air was even warmer here, she could smell the chlorine, and now she could hear the loud chatter of the Year Seven girls as she headed towards the changing rooms.

Was Ms. Braithwaite here already?

She pushed open the double doors and the noise immediately stopped. She looked around: twenty or so girls in their black regulation swimming costumes, frozen in mid-sentence, stared back at her.

Like statues.

“Good morning, girls,” she said.

“Good morning, miss,” they all responded.

“Is Ms. Braithwaite here?”

There was a pause. Sophie waited to see who would drum up the courage to reply. Did they even know she wasn’t even a teacher — just a sixth former?

“No miss. We don’t think so,” came a voice from the crowd.

Sophie breathed a sigh of relief.

Phew. She’d got away with it!

“Line up now, girls, and we’ll go through to the pool,” she said, echoing the words she herself could remember from all those years ago when she’d been a Minnow too.

“Don’t forget to pick up a towel from the basket on the way please. And no talking until we’re all lined up — lined up, remember — at the side of the pool.”

Taking a towel herself, Sophie led the girls through into the pool area. While the group followed her instructions, she went through the routines she’d observed so often: she walked around the pool checking the life-saving equipment was all in place, the panic buttons lit, the floats in order, the water pumps functioning.

She took one last look around. Although the pool was underground, the lighting was bright and warm. The water was flat and calm. The room temperature was perfect. When Ms. Braithwaite arrived the class would look drilled and perfect.

Despite the rush, this morning was going to be fine.

*

With ten minutes to go before the end of the lesson, Sophie finally relaxed. The morning hadn’t been at all what she expected.

Just moments after she’d lined up the girls by the pool, a message had come from the Staff Room saying that Ms. Braithwaite was ‘indisposed’ and could Sophie please take the session on her own?

So that’s what she’d done. That’s what a ‘Cherringham Hall girl’ was supposed to do, she knew. Pick up the pieces — and adapt.

How many times had she heard that over the last few years?

And in the end she’d enjoyed it. She’d got to know the new girls and — she hoped — they trusted her. She’d worked on technique, on confidence, on breathing. She’d pushed them — but not too hard. She’d watched them race and made a mental note of the girls who might have potential.

That’s exactly what Ms. Braithwaite would do, she thought.

And now, while she sat high up on the lifeguard ladder, she was letting them have fun, go a bit crazy with the inflatables. She scanned the pool, checking all the girls were safe among the brightly coloured floats and shapes. She watched them splashing and laughing.

Sophie glanced at her watch. She’d given them just another five minutes: if everyone got changed without too much fuss, she could be out of here and on the one P.M. train to Oxford with Hannah. Shopping!

Fantastic!

Then — so fast! — all the lights went out.

The whole pool area turned dark. Blacker than Sophie had ever known: not just a dull, shadowy grey with shapes faintly visible, but a total blackness as if a blindfold had been pressed against her face.

Sophie swayed in her chair and nearly fell, then thought:

Oh my God — the girls!

The laughing and splashing in the pool had turned into cries and shouts, she could hear anxious voices from every corner of the water …

What’s happened? I’m scared! I can’t swim! Miss, miss!! I’m going to drown!

Sophie gripped the sides of the lifeguard chair. Her thoughts were racing, but from somewhere deep within, a calmer spirit seemed to take over.

“Listen, girls!” she called out. “The lights have failed. That’s all. Nothing to be scared of. Now everyone stay calm. We’re all safe. Nobody’s going to drown. I promise.”

She could sense the children in the water below, listening to her.

“So listen carefully … I want you to do just what I say? Okay?”

There was no answer.

Louder now.

“Okay?”

Then a series of meek voices. “Yes miss, yes miss …”

“First — I want you all treading water. Got that? Nice and gently. Don’t think about the dark, don’t worry. Everyone treading?”

More meek replies from all corners of the black pool.

“Now very slowly — I want you all to swim to the side of the pool — follow my voice. I’ll keep talking.”

She heard the sounds of splashes, arms slicing the water, legs kicking.

“When you get to the side, grab hold. If you’re already at the side, just call out please so that others can swim to you. Okay?”

She heard some voices now just below her … “Over here! This way? Come on — almost there.”

She thought: this is going to be all right.

Slowly Sophie climbed down from the lifeguard’s chair, until she was standing — she assumed — by the side of the pool.

Her heart was racing.

She breathed deeply and made herself calm down. At the far end of the pool, she knew, was the panic button. But already her sense of direction was falling apart.

It should be lit, she thought. Why isn’t it lit?

Somehow she had to walk round the pool, avoiding the floats and rings, and hit that button, to get help.

“How are we doing, girls — everyone at the side of the pool?”

How come I sound so calm … she thought.

A chorus of voices saying … “Here. I’m here too.”

Not one saying that word which could have been so scary in this darkness, the pool turned into a black sea.

The word … help.

They were all working together.

“Well done, girls. Now listen — don’t try to climb out. It’s too dark. I’m going to get help. Everybody understand?”

More agreement from the sea of voices just below her, the entire class invisible.

Now Sophie put her arms out in front of her and started to walk, then stopped. This wasn’t going to work, she could be anywhere; she might just stumble and fall, into the pool …

So she got down on her hands and knees and crawled on the tiles, her hands flat on the wet tiles, reaching ahead into the darkness, feeling her way forward, inches at a time.

Until …

Yes! She could feel the shallow drain that ran around the edge of the pool. All she had to do now was follow it until she felt the ladder in the corner, then turn, and crawl along the width until she was level with where she knew she’d find the button on the wall.

“Everybody okay?” she called softly, as she crawled.

“Yes, miss,” came voices from around the pool.

Someone was giggling.

That’s good, she thought.

“This is quite an adventure, isn’t it?” she said.

More laughter.

At last her hands touched metal — the steps! Now, she just had to slip around them, and crawl down the width of the pool, and then –

With a crackling buzz and a sudden flash, the lights came back on.

For a second Sophie’s eyes were blinded. She forced them open and looked around.

The girls were huddled close, lining one side of the pool. She counted them quickly …

All there — thank God! she thought.

“Everyone okay?” she called.

“Yes, miss!” they shouted.

Someone cheered — and then all of them joined in, whooping and crying out in relief. She watched as they launched themselves from the sides, splashing and shouting, so quickly back to play.

Fear vanishing.

Sophie stood up. Her eyes were wet — she wanted to cry. She took a deep breath and wiped her tracksuit down — it was soaking wet from her crawl.

Time to get the girls out, she thought.

They were getting a bit over excited. The shrieking and laughter echoed louder and louder.

She looked down to the far end of the pool. One group of girls seemed to be … fighting?

She could see them scrambling and pushing each other.

She saw someone pushed under the water.

Then she realised — they weren’t playing.

That screaming wasn’t laughter.

What was going on?

As if in slow motion she ran towards the shallow end, where now she could see the girls pushing each other, crying out, as if in a frenzy to get out of the pool.

They’re panicking, she thought. Why?

Lights are on. Danger over.

I’ve got to stop this—

And then as she got closer she saw a shape in the water.

Not a float or a ring or a ball …

Something that didn’t make sense. Something that didn’t fit, as she tried to figure out what it was.

Then, finally seeing what it was … understanding what the shape was … she instinctively recoiled, then with a skid, she fell on the slippery, wet tiles.

A rat.

A rat, floating on the water. Brown, a foot long, its tail seeming longer, its mouth open, hair matted, eyes staring …

Then another, right nearby, bobbing up and down in the now-heaving water as the screaming girls dragged themselves up the sides of the pool to get away, crying, yelling …

And as Sophie picked herself up she saw there seemed to be rats everywhere in the pool. Ten, twenty, maybe more …God …

So many rats floating among the panicking girls as they fought to climb the ladders, and escape.

Their matted bodies pressed against the children’s black swimsuits as the water churned.

As the girls scrambled from the pool and ran, Sophie picked herself up, staggered to the now-lit panic button on the wall, and hit it hard.

A siren sounded and red lights flashed.

She turned back to the pool. The last of the girls were running, stumbling along the side towards the exit.

One small girl stood alone in the water of the shallow end, sobbing, frozen, eyes shut. Unable to move, shivering.

Sophie could see dead rats floating all around her.

She reached down under the girl’s arms and plucked her from the pool, then pulled, half-carried her, after the other fleeing Minnows towards the safety of the changing room.

2. Cherringham Hall

Jack pulled up in his Austin Healey Sprite right outside Sarahs house and thought about putting up the top.

Although it was a bright sunny afternoon, hed learnt from bitter experience that October weather in the Cotswolds could flip in an instant.

But if they were going on a run into the countryside, nothing could beat the Sprite with the top down …

Heck, lets risk it, he thought, and headed for his friends front door.

It opened before he could even reach for the bell, and Chloe Sarahs daughter stood there, hardly recognisable from when hed last seen her in school uniform in July.

Hey, Jack perfect timing!

Im famous for it, Chloe, he said.

He looked at her clothes. Short skirt, summer top, no coat, handbag, full make-up, the works.

Well on her way to being a young woman, with all the challenges that would bring Sarah.

Rains forecast, he said. Chilly, too.

As in … maybe youd want to dress for fall?

I know. Mum told me. Thats why I need a lift to the station …

Oh, said Jack, grinning.

In many ways, Chloe reminded him of his daughter when she was that young. I think me and your mom were about to …

Jack saw Sarah appear behind her at the door, putting on a coat.

Dont listen to her, Jack, she said. Shes going to walk; shes got plenty of time. The stations minutes away. Weve already discussed this.