Cherringham - Silent Night, Stolen Night E-Book

Matthew Costello

• Herausgeber: Bastei Entertainment
• Kategorie: Krimi
• Serie: Cherringham: Mystery Shorts
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 160

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

With just two days before Christmas, young Liam Byrne is caught in the act of burgling the wealthy Marchmont family home. Liam's wife Shannon is devastated: with no money, no hope, no husband - and their baby due any day. But from gaol, Liam claims he was set-up. As heavy snow blankets Cherringham, can Jack and Sarah do the impossible - find the real culprit and free Liam in time?

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-90s, creating innovative content and working on major 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 the best-selling mystery series Cherringham. Their latest series project is called Mydworth Mysteries.

Leseprobe

Contents

Cover

Cherringham — A Cosy Crime Series

About the Book

Main Characters

Title

1. ’Tis the Season

2. How the Other Half Live

3. Santa’s Grotto

4. Trailer Time

5. A Chat in the Custody Suite

6. At Home with the Marchmonts

7. The Devil in the Details

8. Busy Night at The Railway Arms

9. A Working Dinner

10. An Offer of Help

11. Some Truths Emerge

12. What Alfie Saw

13. A Busy Evening

14. Christmas Cocktails at the Marchmont’s

15. When is a Robbery Not a Robbery?

16. A Very Merry Christmas!

The Authors

Copyright

Cherringham — A Cosy Crime Series

Cherringham is a successful mystery series, set in a small English village. It 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.

About the Book

With just two days before Christmas, young Liam Byrne is caught in the act of burgling the wealthy Marchmont family home. Liam’s wife Shannon is devastated: with no money, no hope, no husband — and their baby due any day. But from gaol, Liam claims he was set-up. As heavy snow blankets Cherringham, can Jack and Sarah do the impossible — find the real culprit and free Liam in time?

Main Characters

Jack Brennan is a former NYPD homicide detective who lost his wife a few 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. Before the series starts, 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 SERIES

Silent Night, Stolen Night

1. ’Tis the Season

Liam Byrne sat on the floor of the cramped caravan pulling on the laces of his work boots, tying them tight.

“You got your phone charged, yeah?” came Shannon’s voice from the tiny sitting area. He leaned forward so he could see her, all wrapped up in a duvet, cushions plumped up around her. String of cheap Christmas lights twinkling on the little plastic tree. The TV on loud. Some reality show, he knew.

“Yeah,” he said, getting up and pulling on his parka. “Don’t worry, babe.”

“I do worry,” she said. “What if something happens — and you’re not here?”

He went over to her, leaned in to give her a squeeze. Her face glowed these days.

“Listen. Nothing’s going to happen tonight, right? You’re not due for another week.”

“Oh yeah? That doesn’t mean anything. Tons of people say a baby can come just like that. Out of nowhere. Bang!”

Liam wasn’t sure “bang!” was quite the right word. He laughed and kissed her on the cheek.

“Just trust me, okay?” he said, stepping back, zipping up the parka. “Not going to happen tonight, for sure. And anyway, I won’t be out for long.”

“You better not be. Or you know what I’ll do.”

“Haha, promises,” said Liam, raising his eyebrows.

“Hey, you can forget about any of that stuff — for years!” said Shannon, and he saw her smile, softening. “So, where you meeting this bloke, anyway?”

“Railway Arms.”

“Oh, that place? But it’s a serious job offer, yeah?”

“Very serious.”

“Well, you make sure you stay on the zero stuff, no drinking and driving.”

Liam grinned at her. “Straight and narrow, me.”

“Ha! Only since I been around to keep an eye on you.”

Liam picked up the green elf hat from the side, put it on her head, switched it on, the lights flashing.

“And see — that’s why I love ya,” he said, grinning. “My guardian angel.”

“Too right. You need one.”

He walked over to the door, picked up the car keys from the hook.

“Got enough petrol?” she said.

“Put a fiver in yesterday.”

A fiver. About all they could afford in one go.

For a second, Liam remembered the times he used to fill up his big old Mitsubishi Shogun, spend a hundred quid, not even think about it.

Now we worry if five’s enough or if we can stretch to ten, he thought. And that thought convinced him even more that what he was going to do tonight absolutely had to be done.

It’s all about survival, he thought. Especially with a kid coming.

“See ya later, babes,” he said, keeping up his grin as best he could, then he pulled up the hood of his parka, opened the door and stepped out into the chilly darkness.

*

Outside, he closed the door tight and stood still, aware that this was one of those — what do they call them?Yeah … — sliding door moments.

Because there was still time to turn round, go back in, tell Shannon that the bloke had called. Right, and the “serious” job offer was suddenly off.

And then he could just cuddle up with her under that duvet, watch TV. Pretend that something would turn up after Christmas.

As if …

He watched his breath drifting away in little clouds, catching the dim light from the caravan. The ground was frozen hard and white, the snow compacted for days now, and up above he could see the stars shining bright in the clear, dark night sky.

Clear, but so cold.

Nah, he thought. Nothing else is going to turn up. Gotta be done.

He crossed the farmyard towards their battered old Toyota, parked up next to Pete Butterworth’s estate.

He glanced across the yard at Low Copse Farm, the downstairs windows glowing: he could see the farmer and his wife Becky curled up on the sofa watching TV, the fireplace deep with burning logs, their big old Christmas tree touching the ceiling in the corner.

Now that’s the life, he thought.

Liam blinked — and then forced himself to get a move on towards the icy shape of the car. Until just a few months ago — that had been exactly the kind of life that he and Shannon had been living: nice comfy house, big car outside, bright future.

Never thought we could lose it so fast, he thought.

Now they were camped out in Pete’s farmyard, a thirty-foot trailer for a home — the farmer being so generous — but with them still watching every penny and only eating thanks to the food bank.

He took out the scraper from his pocket, cleared the ice off all the windows of the car, then climbed in and turned the key — hoping the damn thing wouldn’t let him down.

The engine coughed and sputtered to life.

Only then did he check the gauge — less than a quarter full. Damn. But should be enough, he thought. Then he flicked on the headlights and started heading away from the farm, the worn tyres barely gripping, up the road to Winsham Hill.

And beyond that … onto Cherringham.

*

Liam drove slowly and carefully up Cherringham High Street, taking care not to draw attention to the car, safely inside the speed limit, nice and slow.

The village looked so festive: yesterday’s heavy snow still banking the sides of the street, lights strung across the fronts of all the shops, most twinkling red and green, others with simple white bulbs. The village’s big Christmas tree stood tall, all lit up.

As he drove past the Angel, he could see the pricey place was packed. Course, it would be. Just a couple of days till Christmas.

And he remembered … Only last year, he and Shannon had met up there for drinks with a bunch of pals, stayed late by that fire, knocking back whiskies, until all of them tumbled out into the snow after, throwing snowballs like kids.

Good times. Happy times.

He carried on now up past Market Square, then turned off onto Well Lane, found a snow-filled space to park, and killed the engine.

Doing exactly as the bloke Dez had told him: park somewhere quiet, no streetlights, no CCTV.

He got out of the Toyota, locked it, then walked back to the High Street, feet crunching on the frozen snow. Took a right, as if heading out of town. He kept walking, hands in pockets, head down, but eyes always scanning the street ahead.

Nobody would be out tonight — too damn cold for that. But even here, the street dark, he didn’t want to take a chance bumping into somebody he knew. That would be bad.

Then he spotted a car parked ahead, a big black Audi pulled up onto this side of the road. As Liam approached, the lights flashed once.

The signal.

Heart beating faster now, Liam popped open the passenger door.

Another sliding doors moment.

No turning back now. Liam had already made his mind up.

He climbed into the passenger seat, buckled the seat belt.

“You’re late,” said Dez.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” said Liam, not looking at him.

A pause. Liam staring straight ahead: the Christmas lights of Cherringham twinkling on the distant High Street.

“All right,” said Dez. “So, let’s do this.”

As Dez started the Audi’s engine and pulled away, Liam leaned back against the leather.

There was no going back.

2. How the Other Half Live

It took them twenty minutes to reach Bourton-on-the-Water, Dez, both hands locked on the steering wheel, talking football as the car glided along the icy roads.

But Liam didn’t say much back. All he wanted was to get this over with.

As they turned into the High Street, he saw the restaurants and pubs were now closing up; just a handful of people still out, all probably shivering as they gazed at the Christmas tree that rose from the River Windrush, the lights sparkling on the water.

All right for some, thought Liam, watching the groups taking selfies in front of the lights. Happy Holidays!

Yeah, and soon they’d be heading home to their cosy firesides or maybe their posh hotel rooms, kids all excited, Christmas day just a couple of days away.

They moved along the High Street — only now, Dez slowed right down, the car creeping along.

“Okay, Liam — here we go,” he said, nodding to a house on a corner, coming up on the driver’s side. “Check it out.”

Liam didn’t need to be told which house was the house. He’d spent long enough in the summer working on it, eight o’clock morning start, six o’clock finish on a good day, five days a week, sometimes even six.

Worst job of his life, working at the Marchmonts’ place.

And here he was again.

Though not to do any work. Not really.

Set back from the road behind a beech hedge, with the old Cotswold stone immaculately renovated, and inside … six bedrooms. The whole place surrounded by one full acre of perfectly landscaped garden and a sweeping drive.

Easily worth a cool two million, so he’d been told. Maybe even more. He’d sworn to himself he’d never come back after all that … trouble.

And yet … here he was.

“Any lights on?” said Dez.

Liam had a better angle. The car moved at walking pace.

“Seeing … one upstairs, one down,” said Liam, peering across Dez as they passed the house. “Them’s the ones they always leave on when they go out.”

“Cool,” said Dez. “Word is they won’t be back before one, so we got ourselves plenty of time.”

Liam wondered where Dez had got that specific information. But he didn’t ask. Less he knew, the better.

Dez sped up and they drove all the way to the end of the High Street. Then he turned, and they came back, slowing down as they passed the house again, before taking a turn onto the little lane on the corner that ran alongside the garden.

This narrow lane, Liam knew, was unobserved, quiet, and best of all, unlit. With a helpful side door cutting through the dry-stone wall that gave access to the rear of the house.

Dez stopped, turned off the engine.

He leaned into the back seat, lifted up a couple of black, nylon sacks and gave one to Liam. Then he took two pairs of latex gloves and handed a pair to Liam while he slipped on his own pair.

Then he gave Liam a headband light.

“Listen. Don’t turn it on until we’re inside,” he said.

Liam wanted to say, “I’m not an idiot”, but he knew this wasn’t the time to get on the wrong side of Dez.

He hardly knew the guy. But he suspected Dez wasn’t someone you should cross. Now he watched as Dez flicked a switch on the interior light console. To stop it coming on automatically, he guessed.

“All right then. Let’s go,” said Dez and they both got out of the car, feet crunching on the frozen snow. Liam pressed his door shut as quietly as he could, pulled his parka hood up tight as he could, the air icy. He caught sight of a quarter moon just rising above the outline of the village.

The light was barely enough to show the way.

“You lead,” said Dez, and Liam walked along the line of the wall until he reached the door, Dez right behind him.

They stood for a few seconds, eyes adjusting, both listening. Liam shivered. So damn cold.

“You okay? What’s up?” said Dez, and Liam saw the guy grin. “Scared maybe?”

“Don’t like hanging around out here,” said Liam. Though, yes, he did feel scared.

Then Dez slipped out a thin metal rod from his coat and leaned into the door frame to jimmy it open.

“This door better not have its own alarm,” he said.

“It doesn’t,” said Liam.

Dez put his weight on the metal bar, nothing happening. But then with a loud crunch, the door burst open so he almost fell through into the garden.

Liam followed him quickly and pushed the door shut behind them, both of them breathing hard, listening for any reaction, any hint at all that they’d been heard.

But the village was silent.

They were in.

*

Liam continued to take the lead as they crossed the snow-covered drive and reached the side of the big house, both of them crouching low in the shadows.

No cars parked outside the twin garage — a good sign.

Now, Liam worked his way around the house, Dez close behind him, until they came to a small terrace by the back door.

Still no sound from inside.

“All right,” said Dez. “Where’s the key?”

Liam stepped back and looked at the pots and tubs of shrubs that lined the terrace and crowded around the back door. He’d told Dez that the Marchmonts kept a spare key hidden here.

He knew exactly which pot he was looking for — one with a small lemon tree in it. He remembered how amazed he’d been that you could grow real lemons — right here in England!

He scanned the line of tubs. But now, tonight … somehow it all looked different. Then he realised with a shock: the tubs had all been moved around since he’d worked here.

“Come on pal, get a move on,” said Dez.

Liam felt a wave of panic. This could screw up everything. What if the lemon tree wasn’t here? What if the key was under another tub?

But then — he spotted the lemon tree, right at the end of the line. He went over, tilted up the tub, and saw the heavy old key.

Yes!

He grabbed it, came back to Dez, held it up.

“Told you I knew where it was, didn’t I?” said Liam.

“Good man,” said Dez, grinning. “Never doubted you for a minute. Now — you do remember the alarm code, right?”

“How many times do I have to tell you?” said Liam.

“All right, mate. No need to get touchy,” said Dez. “So, second we’re in, you punch in that code, tick-tock, eh? And we get to work.”

Liam stepped up to the door, inserted the key in the lock. Tried to turn it.

But — the key didn’t turn. He looked at Dez, not understanding.

“What’s up?” said Dez.

“Dunno,” said Liam. “I think … I think maybe it’s not locked.”

“What?”

“What if someone’s inside?” said Liam, suddenly nervous. “Come home early?”

“Nah, no way,” said Dez. “No cars. No lights on. Place has got to be empty.”

Liam knew from his time here that sometimes the Marchmonts didn’t bother to lock up. So maybe that’s what they’d done tonight? Gone out in a rush, not checked the back door?

Crazy, he thought, taking a chance like that. But then again — there was nothing that rich people could possibly do that would surprise him.

“Come on then,” said Dez. “Just do it.”

Liam knew he had no choice. He reached for the handle, turned it — and pushed.

And the door opened. Liam stepped in quickly, waiting for the alarm to start its beeping countdown.

But nothing. Silence.

“Well, well — how about that?” said Dez, by his side. “Stupid idiots forgot to set the alarm too!”

Door unlocked. No alarm. Liam couldn’t quite believe this was happening.

Surely it shouldn’t be this easy?

But he also knew sometimes Hugh Marchmont and his wife Caitlyn couldn’t be bothered activating the system when they went out.

Too many false alarms with their daughter Skye turning up at all hours, forgetting her keys and breaking in with her mates from school, all drunk or even worse.

He also knew that — for some reason — neither Hugh nor Caitlyn liked the idea of some phone app logging when either of them came in or out of the house.

Too much to hide from each other maybe? Too many secrets …?

“No alarm. Okay — no need to rush then,” said Dez, and they both stepped in to the dark rear lobby.

Again, they waited, listening. Liam knew this area of the house well: it was the route he and his apprentice Alfie had to take every morning when they were installing the Marchmonts’ elaborate kitchen.

Seemed a lifetime ago.

To his left — he saw the boot room. Just to his right — the laundry room. Only silence — just the hum of the freezers, the sound of the boiler chugging away keeping the place nice and warm.

With a nod to Dez, Liam set off into the darker interior of the house, navigating from memory, with just the dim light of the moon seeping through the windows.