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142 pages

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Description

Police Superintendent John Mayfield is back - and he has more to deal with than ever before. An unexpected visitor means the past is never very far from Mayfield's mind, but at the same time, Warwick is shaken to the core by a series of spine chilling murders. Danger is just round the corner - and with changes in his personal life threatening to overtake everything, Mayfield must gather all his cunning to tackle these events. His trusty team are beside him - but the local newspaper is stirring up trouble, and the residents are frightened. As the mystery unfolds, it becomes clear this will be no easy battle.

Sujets

Historical fiction

Romance

Thriller

Informations

Publié par	eBook Versions
Date de parution	01 avril 2015
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781843963462
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0248€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Published by Knowle Villa Books

Copyright © 2015 Graham Sutherland

Author s website
www.talksandwalks.co.uk

Graham Sutherland has asserted his
right under the Copyright, Designs and
Patents Act 1988 to be identified as
the author of this work.

ISBN 978-1-84396-346-2

eBook production
www.ebookversions.com

All rights reserved. No part of this
publication may be reproduced, stored in or
introduced into a retrieval system or
transmitted in any form or by any means
electronic, photomechanical,
photocopying, recording or otherwise
without the prior permission of the publisher.
Any person who does any unauthorized
act in relation to this publication may
be liable to criminal prosecution.
Other books
by Graham Sutherland

Dastardly Deeds in Victorian Warwickshire
Leamington Spa, a photographic history of your Town
Leamington Spa, Francis Frith`s Town Country Memories
Around Warwick, Francis Frith`s Photographic Memories
Knights of the Road
Warwick Chronicles 1806 - 1812
Warwick Chronicles 1813 - 1820
Felons, Phantoms and Fiends
North to Alaska
A Taste of Ale
Wicked Women
Fakes, Forgers and Frauds
Warwickshire Crimes and Criminals
Midland Murders
English Eccentrics
Edward`s Warwickshire January - March 1901
Curious Clerics
Dastardly Doctors

As Joint Author
Policing Warwickshire, a Pictorial History of the Warwickshire Constabulary

Fiction
Mayfield (Part 1 of the Warwick Detective Trilogy)
Mayfield s Law (Part 2 of the Warwick Detective Trilogy)

Graham Sutherland can be contacted on:
graham.g.sutherland@btopenworld.com
www.talksandwalks.co.uk

MAYFIELD S
LAST CASE

Part 3 of the
Warwick Detective Trilogy

Graham Sutherland

KNOWLE VILLA BOOKS
Contents

Cover
Copyright Credits
Other books by Graham Sutherland

Title Page
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven

Historical Note
Preview of Conspiracy of Fate
About the author
Prologue

Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, July 3 1863

LieutenantSilas Whiting paused , and took another swat at the host of flies buzzingaround him. He knew it was a pointless exercise, as they would soon return.
The sweat was running into his aching eyes, and making them sting. His eyes, along with hisback and most of his body, ached enough already without this extra discomfort. And he could not remember when he had last slept. Next he selected arelatively less filthy part of his apron, and rubbed his hands on it whichremoved some of the blood on them. He knew from experience there was little orno clean water to be had just at the moment.
Having wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of a hand, he rubbed it on the seatof his trousers, blinked a few times and returned to his work. However, Silasknew he was fighting yet another losing battle, in trying to deal with thesteady stream of wounded men being brought into the field hospital.
When the CivilWar had started in America, Silas was still in his first year at medicalschool. However, after listening to one of Abraham Lincoln`s anti-slaveryspeeches, he had not needed very much persuasion to join the Union Army MedicalDepartment as a lieutenant. He was welcomed with open arms, in spite of havingonly had the most basic training.
Suddenly therehad been a great need for doctors, regardless of how little experience theymight have. That would come quickly enough on the battlefields. Luckily,Silas was a quick learner.
He had to be.
Medical sciencewas not always appreciated by many people. In normal times, trainee doctorscould expect to undergo an apprenticeship of two years, which would includelittle or no practical experience. For many young doctors, the war now gavethem the chance of getting that much needed experience, and was the reason manyof them, including Silas, enlisted. After the war, provided they survived,these doctors could become leaders in the field of medicine.
Gettysburg wasnot his first major battle. Silas had been at 2 nd Bull Run,Antietam and Fredericksburg, the year before, as well as several other lesserclashes.
He`s gonedoc, said his assistant, interrupting his thoughts.
Silas lookeddown at his patient, and quickly checked the man`s pulse. It was not that hedoubted his assistant, but a doctor was required to make sure. Already he wasgaining the reputation of being a dedicated doctor, who would save liveswhenever he could. But, as he expected, in this case he could find no pulse,which given the state of the man`s injuries was not surprising.
Let`s have thenext, he instructed.
Automaticallyhe looked down as the wounded soldier was put on the table. He saw the man waswearing a butternut grey uniform, and he was clearly one of the enemysoldiers. But here in the field hospital, he treated all wounded men the same,regardless of which uniform they wore.
Silas had lostcount of the days this campaign and final battle had been going on. It was nowat its height, and his field hospital, one of several, was much in demand. Tocall it a hospital was an exaggeration, as it was really nothing more than alarge tent, attached to the rear of a ruined warehouse.
The medicalstaff employed in the tent, were unaware of the passing of time. Their work wascontinuous. In the background, they were all aware of the cannons firing almostnon-stop, interspersed with the rattle of musketry.
Some of thecasualties which they treated bore evidence of hand-to-hand fighting, withclose-up bullet and bayonet wounds. When it ended, the battle would haveclaimed more than 50,000 casualties. Death and maiming had no respect forloyalties or uniforms. His new patient needed an arm amputating.
When Silas hadfirst started in the Medical Corps, the skill of the few existing army surgeonswas often called into question. They had to seek advice from their civiliancounterparts, prior to amputating any limbs. It was an impractical situation,which had been dictated by there then being less than ninety surgeons in theentire Union army. Times had moved on.
Silas gave hisinstructions and the operation was completed very quickly. He had become veryproficient at this type of surgery, acting on his own initiative, rarely havingthe luxury of being able to obtain a second opinion. Once the operation wascompleted, the patient was removed into the ruined warehouse, which housed whatwere loosely called beds, each containing a wounded soldier. In due course theones who still lived would be moved to hospitals in much safer areas.
To call thembeds was another exaggeration. They were often not much more than blanketswhich had been laid on the bare floor. Occasionally there might be some strawmattresses, or whatever could be salvaged from nearby houses. These were eithergiven freely by their owners, or taken on promise of suitable compensationbeing made, at an unspecified time in the future.
For the mostpart, the casualties were beyond caring, either because of their pain or as aresult of the anaesthetics they had been given. Likewise, they were fairlyunaware of the additional treatment they were given by various nurses. Thesewere women volunteers, who had started out with little or no experience. Initially they had not been welcomed by the army, but they still persisted incoming to help.
They too hadlearned very quickly.
As a team,Silas and his two assistants worked well. Each one respected the skills andabilities of the others. Silas was always ready to listen to their advice,although they needed to give it to him less and less now. In return, heenjoyed their respect for the humane and, whenever possible, kindly way hetreated his patients, regardless of which uniform they wore. The same couldnot be said for some doctors.
Lootenant! Goand take half-an-hour, growled Captain Crowley, who had suddenly appeared.
For a momentSilas thought about disobeying his senior officer, but he did not argue. Taking off his bloodstained apron, he made his way out of the hospital, andinto the night outside. It was a relief to breathe in fresh air…that is if theheavy pall of smoke and gunpowder fumes, which were everywhere, constitutedfresh air.
He had not beenaware of daylight going, and of the lamps being lit in the hospital. It wasnot a peaceful evening. Guns were still firing, with their flashes lighting upthe sky, although the sounds seemed to be dying out. Silently, he breathed ashort prayer for the battle to end soon.
Even as hestood there, another team of sweating horses pulling an ambulance arrived,bringing in more wounded men. Their pitiful cries added to those of thewounded, already in the overfilled hospital.
Making his wayto a nearby pump, Silas worked the handle, glad it still functioned. Afterputting his head under the flow of cold water, he then washed his hands. Itwas a blessed relief to feel the cold water run through his hair, and down hisneck. He only stopped the flow when the water was no longer tinged with blood.
Next he visitedthe latrines. Their stench encouraged nobody to linger. He did what he had todo, and quickly returned to the fresh air and had another wash under the pump.
Unlike some ofhis colleagues, Silas was a firm believer in hygiene, and he washed whenever hecould, but it was not always easy. In the operating theatre, he tried to washafter each operation, but a chronic shortage of water, usually caused by thelack of anyone to fetch it, often made such luxuries difficult or evenimpossible.
CoffeeLieutenant?
Silas turnedand saw a