Fire in the Blood (13 page)

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Authors: George McCartney

BOOK: Fire in the Blood
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Chapter 26

Later, on the drive over to the Cross Keys Inn, Annie was enjoying both the late evening sunshine and the perfect peace which only comes with the absence of a constant country music soundtrack, since the old Land Rover lacked the means to play any of Jack’s infernal cassettes. In addition, an ancient radio which the farmer had crudely bolted under the dashboard, appeared to be completely dead and, according to the self-appointed technology expert sitting beside her in the passenger seat, probably in need of several new valves.
However, slowly and worryingly, over the din of the ancient diesel engine, Annie was convinced that she could hear intermittent snatches of music in the background, which was obviously impossible. As the volume increased slightly, she first made out a wailing fiddle and then a strangled voice pleading for someone to, “Take these chains from my heart”. Panicking, she thought, ‘Oh God, this is
really
bad. I’ve heard so much of his crap music over the past week, I’m starting to channel
Hank
bloody
Williams
.’ Then, after looking around the dashboard for any hidden music players or speakers, she noticed that Jack’s right knee appeared to be twitching in time with the music. Pulling in to the side of the road, she turned to him and sternly demanded, ‘Okay,
where
is it?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Where’s the music coming from?’
‘Oh, you mean
this?
’ he asked innocently, pulling out a small, battery-powered cassette recorder from his inside jacket pocket. ‘Dead lucky I remembered this. I sometimes use it for taking witness statements, but it also does okay for emergency music duty.’
Annie then reached into an inside pocket on her leather jacket and pulled out the white ear buds she used with her iPhone. ‘Here you can borrow these, but promise me you’ll give them a good clean before I get them back.’
Jack and Annie parked outside the Cross Keys Inn, a small country pub, and entered the lounge bar. Immediately obvious were three man-gorillas wearing identical garb, tightly stretched dark blue boiler suits and filthy wellies, who were perched precariously on stools at the end of the bar, noisily tucking in to steaming, heaped plates of food. Annie took a seat in the corner as Jack went to order drinks from the barmaid.
As Jack sat down and started on his pint, Annie whispered excitedly, ‘Look, I know I’m new to the private detective business, boss, but I would bet my first month’s pay that
those
are the Barlow brothers.’
Jack nodded and sarcastically replied,
‘Now, now … we mustn’t jump to any rash conclusions, Annie.’
‘I
also
know what happened to the farmer’s stolen cattle,’ continued Annie, undeterred.
‘Okay then, you’re on a roll, kiddo. Go for it.’
‘Our theory was all wrong. Obviously these guys didn’t sell the stolen cows. They
ate
them.’
‘You could be right, Annie, we may have stumbled upon a previously undiscovered species of homo-sapiens, Belted Barlow Man. I think I’ll go and order the food and try some male bonding.’
‘Boss, please be careful.’
‘Relax, it should be okay. They’ve just been fed.’
Jack approached the bar, picked up a menu, smiled cheerfully and asked the Barlow boys, ‘What would you recommend guys?’
Offering his hand to the nearest gorilla, Jack continued, ‘I’m Jack Davidson, by the way, I’m just down here on holiday for a few days.’
Somewhat reluctant to stop shovelling food into his gaping maw, the oldest looking of the three brothers eventually wiped his mouth on the filthy sleeve of his boiler suit, belched and then growled, ‘We usually have steak or the steak pie. Or, for a change like, maybe some roast beef.’
One of the other two Barlow siblings, who appeared to be identical twins, then enthusiastically added, ‘Yeah, but don’t forget the pot roast, steak mince and the hamburgers, we like all of them too.’
Jack nodded gravely, as if a great truth had just been revealed, and said, ‘So I guess the beef must be pretty good around here?’
Oldest Barlow proudly confirmed,
‘It’s only the best in the world.’
‘Aye, especially when it’s
free,
’ chipped in the third brother, which caused an eruption of giggling and snuffling animal-like noises from the twins.
Sensing that his younger brothers were being dangerously indiscreet with this nosey stranger, the senior Barlow quickly interjected, ‘Aye,
free-range
, like, is what young Benny here means.’
Putting the menu decisively back on the bar, Jack said, ‘Thanks for the advice, guys. But I think we’ll have the fish.’
Oldest Barlow looked the fish-eating stranger up and down disapprovingly and said,
‘We don’t usually get too many strangers coming in here.’
Jack smiled mysteriously, winked and said,
‘Well you know what they say boys,
everyone’s
a stranger if you close your eyes.’
Both twins then exhibited identical furrowed brows and confused frowns, before one blurted out, ‘What the fuck does that mean?’
After a few moments of intense concentration, the other twin elbowed his brother in the ribs, clearly excited, and sniggered
,
‘Wait, wait … I think I
get
it. Is that maybe like having a wank, with a pound of warmed-up, maggotty mince, using your
left
hand?’
It was now Jack’s turn to display a furrowed brow and a thoroughly confused expression. ‘Quite possibly pal, thanks for the tip.’
He re-joined Annie who asked, ‘So, what did you find out?’
‘Well the Barlow boys really
love
their beef, and I don’t think it necessarily has to be cooked.’
Annie nodded sarcastically, ‘Yeah,
or
dead.’
‘Look, we only had the farmer’s suspicions to go on before, Annie. But now that I’ve actually met them in the flesh, my gut feeling is that these guys are the rustlers. The big question is,
are
they stupid enough to try it again?’
‘Anyway, let’s put it this way, if we’re on stakeout duty down at the farm and we see a car coming along the road with its headlights pointing straight up into the sky, we’ll know for
sure
who’s inside it,’ said Annie.
Cheering up, Jack then added, ‘You know, these two jobs actually might work out okay, because we can babysit the cows at night and then do a bit of work on the other case during the day.’
‘Great, so we can go and see the unhappy husband tomorrow morning. Emma says he’ll be expecting us around lunchtime.’

Chapter 27

Around one o’clock the next day Jack and Annie arrived outside an impressively maintained small country house. As they were getting out of the Land Rover and making their way up the steps to the entrance, a stern, distinguished looking man in his mid-sixties opened the front door. He greeted Jack and then pointedly ignored Annie, which immediately promoted him to a top five spot on her death list. ‘Good morning, I’m Robert Blake and you must be Mr Davidson.’
‘Please, call me Jack and this is my
senior
associate, Annie James.’
‘Come inside, will you.’
Seated in an elegant drawing room, having organised coffee and biscuits for his guests, Robert Blake fussed with a pile of glossy magazines on the low table in front of him and then cleared his throat. ‘This is an extremely, ahem, delicate problem. I assume that my lawyer has given you some background information regarding the matter which is concerning me.’
‘Yes, of course, but it would be helpful if you could just briefly explain the situation in your own words,’ said Jack.
‘Very well. You see, I love my wife Mr. Davidson, but she’s considerably younger than me. Twenty years younger to be precise and still quite beautiful, I think, which is both a blessing and perhaps the nub of the problem. As you can see, we have a very pleasant home here and, I believe, some standing in the local community. We socialise a fair bit, have friends over for bridge once a week and, of course, there are the monthly dinner dances at my golf club, which are something of a highlight in the social calendar. So I’m the first to admit that, all things considered, we have an extremely fortunate lifestyle. However, over the last six or seven months, what’s the best way to put this … my wife, Helen, has become rather distant and unsettled.’
‘In what way?’ asked Jack.
‘Well she’s started going to a local gym, for a Zumba class, whatever
that
is and she’s been dressing quite differently.
Younger
, if you know what I mean. She’s also started spending a lot of time in the evenings on the internet. All that kind of thing is completely beyond me, I’m afraid. Oh, and she also goes out jogging every week like clockwork, on Tuesdays and Thursday afternoons.’
Determined not to be left completely out of the conversation, Annie then butted in, ‘Not necessarily a cause for concern, surely. I mean loads of women do the kind of things you’ve just described. These new interests don’t necessarily mean that your wife is
shagg
… sorry, I mean
seeing
, someone else.’
Still ignoring Annie and clearly finding the conversation an extremely painful ordeal, Robert Blake continued, ‘Quite so, if that was all there was to it. But she’s also recently insisted on separate bedrooms and, to be perfectly frank, I fear that she now finds life with me somewhat dull and predictable. As a result, I strongly suspect she is seeking diversion and excitement elsewhere.’
‘What do you want us to do?’
‘Well naturally I’m hoping that this is merely a temporary aberration on her part. She is perhaps having a mid-life crisis of some kind, which she needs to get out of her system. I’m hoping that if I can confront her with proof of any indiscretion, she may then come to her senses and life can then return to normal. I realise that may sound rather naive, pathetic even, but I just
have
to know the truth one way or another. So I want you to follow her and bring me details of any dalliances. Obviously the rest is then up to me.’
Nodding, Jack explained,
‘That should be fairly straightforward. Probably only three or four days’ work, provided of course that she sticks to her normal set routine. Our fees are £500 per day, plus expenses, and on completion of the assignment we would provide you with a full written report and any relevant photographic evidence.’
Robert Blake considered the proposal then announced,
‘That’s agreed then Mr Davidson. I’ll give you details of her diary for the next week, or so, and then leave you to get on with it.’
Jack then added, ‘Oh, there’s one more thing. With your permission, I’d like my associate to take a quick look at your wife’s bedroom.’
‘Why on earth is that necessary?’ bristled Blake.
‘Well, in my experience, women have an instinctive feel for the tell-tale details in these delicate situations. You know, the subtle changes that women sometimes make to their clothes, shoes and perfume. The nuances which are completely invisible to mere men.’
Reluctantly Blake eventually agreed and directed Annie towards the first floor bedroom which was currently occupied by his wife.
Ten minutes later, as they left the Blake residence and climbed back into the Land Rover, Jack asked, ‘So, you’ve had a good shufty at her room, what do you think? Woman’s instinct, is she or isn’t she at it?’
Annie was in
no doubt and said, ‘I’ll tell you all about the room later, but
yes
she is definitely at it. But quite honestly she has my complete sympathy. I’ve absolutely no idea what a
dalliance
is, but
whatever
it is, it sounds a lot more exciting than going to a dinner dance at the golf club, or having a game of bridge in the drawing room with a bunch of old man Blake’s homies. It would be like appearing in an episode of
The Muppets
.’
‘Surely that’s a bit harsh, Annie. He seemed a decent enough old bloke to me. I mean obviously a bit straight-laced, definitely old school, but basically okay.’
‘Yeah, but
you’re
not married to him. The guy’s a complete control freak. Did you see the way he was dressed, how
perfect
everything was inside and outside the house and how he appeared to always work out all the angles before he answered a question. I bet he’s never done anything spontaneous in his entire life. Believe me, he would drive most women mad. I bet he even irons his pants.’
Immediately on the defensive, Jack confessed
,
‘I do
that
. Just my pants mind, nothing else. In case, you know,
something
happens.’
No longer surprised by anything Jack said, Annie was nevertheless puzzled and enquired. ‘Like
what?

As if thinking about it for the very first time, a confused Jack replied,
‘I don’t really know, my mum
never
said.’
Yawning widely, Annie closed the conversation, ‘That’s really fascinating, boss,
not
. By the way, since I’ve apparently been promoted to
Senior
Associate Investigator, does that mean I get a pay rise?’

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