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Death At The Last Chapter

Death At The Last Chapter


Death At The Last Chapter - book excerpt

Chapter 1

A Personal Assignment

‘Here we are.’ Robert Bruce applied the brakes and killed the engine with a sigh of relief, bringing the van to a halt. ‘Rose Lodge.’ He peered up at the imposing frontage, almost hidden from view by a mass of roses curling up around the front door.

‘You sure this is the last one?’ asked his friend Gus sleepily, stirring himself and hiding a yawn. ‘I’ve been up since six.’

‘Relax, almost finished.’ Robert thumbed through his list, ticking it off. ‘There we are, my friend’s place. Tom Conway, Rose Lodge. You should know it by now, we’ve been here enough times. Out you get.’ He clambered out and stretched. ‘Last one.’

Opening the back, he ducked his head inside and pulled out a box, checking over the delivery list. ‘Now then,’ he said, scanning through the items, ‘everything here, except – wait a minute, what happened to the tomato ketchup?’

‘Don’t ask me, I expect they’ve run out.’

‘But it’s his favourite. He always asks for that.’

‘Well, don’t expect me to go back for it,’ his friend grumbled. ‘He’ll just have to wait until next week – they don’t pay us overtime at Home Stores, you should know that by now. You don’t need the money – I do.’

‘Let’s hope he doesn’t notice,’ replied Robert, ignoring his last remark as he heaved out the box and handed it over, before closing the door. ‘I know, I’ll ask him how his latest book’s getting on. That might do the trick.’

‘As long as that old battle-axe of a sister of his doesn’t show her face. I can’t stand the sight of her.’

‘Cheer up, she’s probably out having her hair done, if I know her. Come on, let’s get it over.’

Gus grinned knowingly. ‘Don’t kid me – it’s that bird of his you’re keen on.’

Robert flushed and took hold of the bag to change the subject. ‘Here, let me – mind what you’re doing with that. Nothing of the sort. Jill’s not his bird, you ass; she’s his secretary.’

His friend winked. ‘Oh yes, I’ve seen you giving her the eye when he’s not looking.’

‘That’s enough of that. Don’t forget it’s the side door,’ reminded Robert as he led the way.

‘Mind the blasted roses,’ grumbled his friend. ‘Tore my hands in shreds last time I was here.’

‘Wouldn’t like to be his gardener,’ agreed Robert. ‘Must be a nightmare looking after that lot. Here, you hold this while I ring.’

They were interrupted by a bicycle pulling up alongside and the cheery voice of the postman announcing his arrival. ‘S’cuse me, gents. Why bless me, if it ain’t Master Robert.’ He doffed his hat respectfully. ‘Here, I must tell you … our Maisie’s over the top because of them piano lessons you paid for. Been pestering the life out of me, she has. As if I could afford such goings on, I told her, on mysalary – even if it is yourbirthday, young madam.’

He turned to Gus, seeing his look of surprise. ‘Proper knight in shining armour your chum is. Paid for her next term’s lessons without batting an eyelid, I ask you. Whole street’s buzzing about him and his good deeds. Robert the Bruce, they call him, after that there Scottish King, they do say.’

Robert interrupted hastily. ‘Hadn’t you better be going, Jim? I think that’s someone coming.’

But their gossipy friend was not to be put off that easily and he turned to Gus, eager to spread the word. ‘He didn’t tell you about last week at the labour exchange either, I bet. Slipping those poor devils a tenner each to keep them going, that’s him all right.’

Luckily, and to Robert’s relief, they heard the approach of footsteps and Jim hurriedly handed over the post. ‘Can’t afford to stop here gossiping, gents. Give Mr Conway my regards, will you? I’m off.’

‘Well, I’ll be …’ Gus was overcome at the thought of doing all that overtime while his friend was happily giving away half his wages.

‘And I thought we were mates. Robert the Bruce, eh?’ he teased, with a hint of reproach. ‘You never told me.’

Before Robert could think up an answer, the door opened and Tom Conway himself stood there, beaming at them.

‘Ah, there you are, lads. Come on in. Don’t worry about your shoes,’ he added as they hesitated. He waved a hand. ‘Put it on the table. It’s Cook’s afternoon off so I’ll take care of it. That’s the ticket,’ he said as Gus dumped the box down thankfully. ‘You look as if you could do with a drink. Help yourself.’

Gus licked his lips. ‘Wouldn’t say no to one of those, sir.’ He eyed the nearest bottle of beer eagerly.

‘Robert?’

Before he could answer, someone tapped on the door behind them and the gardener stood there, twisting his cap. ‘Beg pardon, sir.’

‘Don’t stand on ceremony, Bates. Plenty there, get yourself a glass.’

‘T’wer’n’t that, sir. I was wondering if I might beg a favour, like.’

‘Well, cough it up. No need for introductions. You’ve met our delivery friends before now. What’s up? Foxes getting at the hens again?’

‘No, nothing like that, sir. It’s my cousin Nora, sir. Nurse says she’s been calling for me – really bad with the flu, she is. Just wondered if I could take some time off and go and see what’s up?’

‘Of course, man. You don’t have to ask. Let me know if there’s anything I can do. Let me see, she’s at Longbridge if I remember rightly, about ten miles away. Need any transport?’

‘No, thank ‘e sir. I’ve got my old truck round the back.’

‘Then off you go. Don’t hurry back and let me know how she is.’

As the door closed behind him, their host explained gruffly, ‘Best gardener we’ve ever had, that man. Wouldn’t refuse him anything.’ Seeing them waiting uncertainly, he urged, ‘Don’t stand on ceremony, drink up.’ He eyed Gus’s empty glass. ‘Oh, I see you have. Have another, there’s plenty more; you deserve it after all that delivery business. Too hot for doing anything, this weather.’

Gus shuffled his feet, casting a longing glance at the row of bottles. ‘Much as I’d like to, sir, I’d best be off, if you don’t mind.’ Turning to Robert, he explained apologetically. ‘Just remembered, I promised my Lilly I’d take her to the flicks tonight and, if I don’t go now, I’ll never make it. D’you mind if I take the van? Otherwise I’ll be cutting it a bit fine.’

Robert pushed him on his way with a laugh. ‘Go on then.’ He added jokingly, ‘I thought you told me it was Jenny last week?’

‘That was last week. This one’s a real corker.’

‘That’s what you said last time.’

‘This one’s the real thing. You sure? I mean about the van.’

‘Yes, I’ve promised to drop something off to someone in the High Street. The walk will do me good.’

‘Oh yes?’ His friend couldn’t resist a parting dig. ‘Another of your good deeds – called Jill, isn’t she?’ He hurriedly escaped, shutting the door behind him before his friend could retaliate.

‘Sorry about that,’ Robert apologised.

‘Don’t take any notice; he’s only pulling your leg. Come in the den and tell me all your news.’

When they were comfortably settled, he held out a bottle. ‘What about a top-up?’

Robert started to relax. ‘Just as well I’m not driving. Yes, please.’

‘Now, what have you been getting up to,’ his host began as he poured a liberal helping. ‘Still haven’t decided about the job that solicitor of yours was on about? Good steady income I would have thought – what’s the problem?’

Robert grimaced. ‘I know it sounds awfully ungrateful, but,’ he hesitated and sighed, ‘spending all day working in a solicitor’s office is not my idea of fun.’ He tried to explain himself. ‘I did try, honest. After Dad died, his partner Henry Arbuthnot went out of his way to encourage me and invited me to join the practice, and his offer still stands I know, but the trouble was … I found it deadly boring.’

His host laughed in sympathy. ‘I know what you mean. I get the same feeling whenever I go and see him.’ He poked at the fire thoughtfully. ‘What would you like to do if you had the choice?’

Robert took another sip as he considered the idea. ‘I suppose anything that doesn’t involve routine office work, something I could get my teeth into. Although there’s not much chance of anything like that going on around here.’

‘Meanwhile, you’re quite content to hand out half your wages, acting as the good Samaritan.’ He shook his head. ‘That’s all very well, but if you ask me, it’s time you settled down and found yourself a good woman. Now that’s a coincidence,’ he observed, struck by a sudden thought. ‘My secretary’s called Jill – not the same one your friend mentioned?’

Robert spilt some of his drink at the sound of her name and spluttered. ‘Sorry about that, my fault.’ Dabbing at the spot, he replied hurriedly, managing to keep his voice steady, ‘No such luck. She’s already promised, I’m told.’

‘Don’t worry,’ said Tom reassuringly, ‘plenty more where that came from. Yes, to someone called Ronald Chambers, so she tells me. A local chap, standing for the next by-election, I believe.’ Aware that he may have touched on a sensitive subject, he asked casually, ‘So, how does that leave you?’

‘I’m okay,’ said Robert hastily, setting his glass down. ‘I have enough to live on, what with the money Dad left me, if that’s what you meant. Meanwhile, if I can help some other poor devil down on his luck, I’ll do what I can. But I can’t see myself getting married on what I get, even if anyone would have me,’ he finished with a laugh.

Giving the fire another poke to cover the awkward pause, Tom Conway changed the subject. ‘Have you ever thought of following in your uncle’s footsteps? In the police, I mean. I know he’s retired now, but he was a detective sergeant before that and a damn fine one, as we all know. He should be able to put in a good word for you if you ask him.’

‘No thanks. The idea of having to work under someone like that inspector of his gives me the creeps.’ He shuddered.

Tom got up and topped up the drinks. ‘I dare say. Now, I know they never got on together, largely because that idiot Platt went out of his way to block your uncle’s promotion, quite unjustly, I might add, as well you know, but this situation you’ve got yourself into is a complete waste of your talents.’

He eyed his young friend’s well-knit figure with approval. ‘Look here, I’ve always considered myself a good judge of character. I still remember what a splendid job you did, finding out about that previous secretary of mine, who nearly swindled me out of a fortune while he was with me, before I was lucky to land up with young Ji…’ He corrected himself hastily, to spare his friend’s embarrassment. ‘I mean my present one.’

‘That was just good luck I came across those faked accounts of his when I did,’ allowed Robert modestly.

‘Don’t kid me. It was sheer hard work, coupled with a touch of genius. Look here,’ his host began, coming to a decision, ‘I believe I might have just the job for you, if you’re interested.’

‘What kind of work would that be?’ asked Robert cautiously, fearing prospects of another desk job.

Tom patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. ‘Don’t worry, I think you’ll find this one is just up your street. What’s more, I’ll make it worth your while,’ he added as an inducement.

Robert jumped up in protest, upsetting his drink again. ‘I wouldn’t dream of charging you, after everything you’ve done for the family.’

 

Book Details

AUTHOR NAME: Michael N. Wilton

BOOK TITLE: Death At The Last Chapter

GENRE: Thrillers

PAGE COUNT: 168

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