by Penny Grubb
Farrar nodded. ‘Well, you’ve done it, you’ve planted the seed that’ll unship him in the dock. Why are you looking so pissed off?’
Webber wanted to growl that apart from having been within an inch of losing an eye, or maybe worse, and having blood dripping down his face he felt just fine, but realised that Farrar was right.
‘I’m pissed off about Pamela Morgan.’
Joyce Yeatman had finally talked about Pamela’s suicide note and spoken the words Webber had misquoted to Michael Drake, the words that she’d burnt to ashes but never forgotten.
… and of all people … that it was Gary …
‘Pamela got as far as figuring that it was murder,’ he said, ‘but she thought Gary had done it. She never knew the truth. I wish she had.’
‘I suppose Drake eased her into thinking it was Yeatman once he saw her getting close,’ said Farrar.
‘Yes, but he could at least have told her that the tigers hadn’t done it. It was the manner of his death that she couldn’t live with.’
‘Psychopath,’ Farrar said, ‘and with an ego that size, he’d never have come clean, not even for his precious Pamela. Leave it be, Martyn. We’ve done our bit. You can’t go back and change the past however much you want to, and if you let it fester you’ll end up like Brad Tippet, holding on to old grudges. I wonder if he’s learnt any lessons from all this.’
‘I wonder if any of us have,’ murmured Webber, knowing as he spoke that he’d learnt the biggest lesson of his life, and might have learnt it too late but for a woman called Pamela Morgan who had been his one solid connection with Mel when everything else threatened to crumble. Distortions of the truth were dangerous beasts, he thought, and yet we’ve all been at it over the past few weeks, even straitlaced Ahmed with his behind the scenes work on Tom Jenkinson. A mental image of the ornate invitation to the April wedding came to his mind. He smiled. It gave him a glimmer of the optimism that went with opening new chapters, building new alliances.
‘I hope the weather’s good in April,’ he said, as they pushed their way out into the cold December air.
The End –
“I’m different. I have a different constitution. I have a different brain. I have a different heart. I got tiger blood, man. Dying’s for fools. Dying’s for amateurs.”
Charlie Sheen
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Penny Grubb is a scientist, a researcher and a teacher as well as a novelist. Writing techniques are her ‘thing’. She wants everyone to know about the power of the written word and how it works in academic, creative, journalistic, reflective writing and indeed all contexts. She believes that once people understand the power of words, they are protected from exploitation by mendacious purveyors of half-truths and propaganda.
Penny is author of the Annie Raymond mysteries, a crime series published both sides of the Atlantic that morphed gently (or perhaps violently) into a series of police procedurals of which Tiger Blood is the second.
Penny is active on social media when she can find the time and loves to hear from readers. Come and join her:
Penny’s blog
Penny’s website
Penny on Facebook
Penny on Twitter
Penny on LinkedIn
THE ANNIE RAYMOND MYSTERIES
Like False Money
The Jawbone Gang
The Doll Makers
Where There’s Smoke
Buried Deep
Table of Contents
PROLOGUE – York: Little green men
PROLOGUE – Holderness: Retired Capt.
Donald Farrar’s unexpected visitor
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
THE ANNIE RAYMOND MYSTERIES
