Murder at Alpine Manor , livre ebook

Austin Macauley Publishers - Robert Archibald

Découvre YouScribe en t'inscrivant gratuitement

Je m'inscris

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

112 pages

English

Vous pourrez modifier la taille du texte de cet ouvrage

Obtenez un accès à la bibliothèque pour le consulter en ligne
En savoir plus

A propos
Informations
Extrait

Description

For detective Jack Thomas aka JT, the chance to spend Christmas at the luxury Alpine Manor is too good to resist. A relaxing break, however, soon becomes another investigation as a dead body is discovered. Accident or foul play? As the snow deepens, and it becomes apparent that they are trapped in the Manor with a killer, no one knows who could be targeted next.

Informations

Publié par	Austin Macauley Publishers
Date de parution	28 août 2020
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781528959513
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	1 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0175€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Murder at Alpine Manor
Robert Archibald
Austin Macauley Publishers
2020-08-28
Murder at Alpine Manor About the Author Dedications Copyright Information © Chapter 1 December 20th Chapter 2 December 23 rd Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 December 24 th Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 December 25 th Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14
About the Author
Having worked full-time for nearly thirty years in the financial services sector, Robert has recently begun to spend more time writing. Starting as a hobby, he now hopes to pursue this as a career. After ‘testing the waters’ tentatively through self-publishing, Robert has recently completed his first book for full publication. Robert currently lives with his wife and pets near Edinburgh, Scotland.
Dedications
To my wife, Angela.
Copyright Information ©
Robert Archibald (2020)
The right of Robert Archibald to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781528910200 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781528959513 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published (2020)
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
25 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5LQ
Chapter 1

December 20th
The two men sat staring at each other across the vast mahogany desk. At one side of the desk sat a laptop, open but currently being ignored. Next to it, a small pile of papers, a pen standing in a holder and behind the pen, a telephone.
Suddenly, a small buzz was heard and one of the buttons on the phone flashed.
Pressing the button quickly, the man behind the desk said, “I said I was not to be disturbed!”
“I’m sorry, Mr Rogers,” the tinny voice said, “but…”
“I don’t care!” Mr Rogers snapped. “No interruptions!”
He pushed the button again, terminating the intercom. He looked back at the man sitting opposite him. He was middle-aged, his short brown hair flecked with grey, hints of bags beneath his eyes, the jowls of his cheeks making his mouth look constantly downturned. A frown drew his eyebrows closer, creating wrinkles on his forehead. Everything about him was nondescript, even his clothes, an unremarkable, slightly wrinkled suit, a plain tie.
Jocelyn Rogers, on the other hand, was anything but nondescript. Almost seventy years old, his hair was white, his face showing the marks of time, however, he was immaculately dressed in the finest suit money could buy, tailor-made, naturally; his silk shirt probably costing more than the entire wardrobe of the man opposite him. His face had graced numerous covers of financial magazines, his business empire, which he had built from the ground up, employed thousands of people around the world and, it was safe to say, he was recognised everywhere he went. “Mr Thomas,” Rogers finally spoke, “that is quite a tale. Pure fiction, of course, and if you repeat it elsewhere, you will hear from my lawyers.”
Jack ‘JT’ Thomas stared back at Rogers, almost a hint of a smile tugging at his lips though Rogers could not be certain.
“I’m sure your lawyers are very… intimidating,” he said.
“And effective,” Rogers added. “Believe me, I only hire the best.”
“Yes, I’m sure you do,” JT agreed. “Unfortunately for you, them being the best won’t change the facts. You murdered your former secretary, Elise Hampton, and you tried to cover it up.”
“So you said,” Rogers said, standing up and turning to gaze out the large window behind him. It offered a view of the city few other buildings could match, his being one of the tallest. Beyond the city, the sun was setting, casting a red glow across the sky. “Mr Thomas, do you have any idea how much money I am worth? How much of this city is mine? I have an empire, I have more money and power than most people could ever dream of, I have politicians at my beck and call. Anything I could ever want, I have. Why would I kill anyone?”
“The oldest reason in the book, money.”
“Absurd!” Rogers scoffed. “I have more money than I know what to do with!”
“Yes,” JT agreed. “And you wouldn’t want to lose any of it, would you? Say, in a bitter divorce?”
“This is nonsense!” Rogers said. “Elise, rest her soul, was a troubled woman. She had a history of depression. The poor woman took an overdose. It was a terrible tragedy, nothing more.”
“Elise’s sister disagrees,” JT replied. “She did not believe her sister killed herself, no matter what the police concluded. That is why she hired me.”
“You may be some kind of famous private detective, Mr Thomas,” Rogers sneered, “but I find it reprehensible that you are stringing this woman along, prolonging her suffering, rather than helping her accept the truth.”
“Truth?” JT retorted, “Is that the truth about your affair with Elise, the truth that she didn’t want to be ‘the other woman’ any longer? The truth that she thought you loved her and would leave your wife for her? That truth?”
Rogers stayed quiet, shaking his head.
“I have to admit, it was difficult,” JT continued. “You swore Elise to secrecy and she never told anyone about the two of you, not even her sister. It was difficult to determine when the two of you were indulging in little private getaways, rather than the numerous business trips you embark on. I probably wouldn’t have come close to piecing it together if it wasn’t for one throwaway remark.”
“Your fantasies notwithstanding,” Rogers said, “as part of their investigation, the police questioned me. I had an alibi.”
“Yes, you did,” JT admitted. “One which, doubtless, was not scrutinised too closely. I’m sure your friends in high places would have been all too eager to accept your story, the way they accept your campaign contributions, right? And, I suppose, the police had no reason to suspect you were lying.”
“That’s because I wasn’t!” Rogers stated emphatically. “And you can’t prove otherwise.”
“You like animals, don’t you?” JT asked.
“What?” Rogers was taken by surprise. “Yes, of course. I donate to numerous animal charities; fund a conservation park in Kenya, campaign to ban hunting. What has that got to do with anything?”
“Yes, everything I researched about you, everyone I spoke to, all said the same thing,” JT carried on. “In business, you are cut-throat Your Empire has been built on making tough, unpopular decisions; if something wasn’t turning a profit, you’d cut it loose, downsize, whatever, even if it cost people their jobs. The only sentiment you have ever shown in your business dealings is when it comes to animals. Everyone agrees.”
“That is not a crime,” Rogers said.
“No, not at all,” JT agreed. “In fact, it’s very commendable. Sincerely, I wish more people in your position shared your attitude.”
“What does this have to do with anything?” Rogers demanded; his impatience showing.
“Ah, yes, I nearly forgot,” JT said apologetically. “It was when I was interviewing everyone the police had spoken to, just double-checking things, you understand, that I picked up on something that had not been mentioned previously. An innocent, harmless remark that, of course, could have no bearing on Elise’s death.”
“Which was?” Rogers asked.
“The cat,” JT answered.
“I’m sorry? The cat? What cat?” Rogers demanded.
“Elise’s cat,” JT replied. “Do you recall, when the police phoned your office to say they had found her dead in her home, your secretary, the nice lady sitting out there just now, took the call, didn’t she?”
“So?” Rogers asked. “Of course she would take the call, it’s her job to take calls!”
“Yes, of course,” JT agreed. “Do you remember what you said to her when she told you?”
“Of course,” Rogers snapped. “I told her to inform the police that I would be happy to help them in any way possible. And…”
“And?” prompted JT.
“And I also instructed her to make sure the police got the appropriate animal-care services to take care of Elise’s kitten.”
“The cat,” JT said smugly.
“I fail to see what relevance this has on anything,” Rogers said angrily. “I’m afraid I am going to have to ask you to leave.”
JT sat still, looking almost bored. “Why do they always resort to this sort of bluster?” he asked rhetorically.
“If you do not leave, I will have Security remove you,” Rogers threatened.
Ignoring Rogers, JT stood up, walked behind the chair he had been sitting on and leaned his arms against it. “How did you know about the cat?” he asked quietly.
“W-what?” Rogers stammered. “I don’t know… I mean, the police must have said to my secretary and she told me…”
“No and no,” JT interrupted. “I have checked and double-checked. Neither the police nor your secretary were aware Elise had a cat, until you mentioned it. In fact, it was only after your mentioning it that the cat, the kitten, was found hiding in the linen closet.”
“Well, Elise must have told me,” Rogers said.
“She told you about her little, black kitten?” JT asked.
“It’s not black, it’s ginger,” Rogers said before he could stop himself.
“Oh, yes, you’re right,” JT agreed. “Ginger. My mistake. How did you know?”
“Um… ah… well, Elise obviously told me and I just remembered,” Rogers said, suddenly sounding less sure of him-self.
“Hmm,” JT murmured. “You want to hear a funny story?” Before Rogers could answer, he continued, “Elise did not own a kitten, gin