The Hero's Fall (DCI Cook Thriller Series Book 14) by Phillip Strang (best classic romance novels txt) 📗

he liked it or not; rushing up to London every time his wife did a runner or found herself another lover wasn’t sustainable.

A registry office, that’s what she thought. ‘When I come back, we’ll get married. Alright?’

‘Whatever you say,’ the sleepy response.

‘You can live here if you want.’

‘Okay.’

For some reason, she felt calm. Life had been rough, but a remote farm, a good man, even if neither was any more than mediocre, suited her fine. She had come from a privileged background, an emotionally distant father, a controlling mother. Her man would do her fine.

At Challis Street Police Station, the photos were studied. Ashley Otway had been reminded again that withholding evidence was a crime; the newspaper’s legal department replying that they pertained to a period before Simmons’s death and they were a matter of public record, and only proved the reason for the apparent animosity of the two men.

Isaac knew they were right, and even though enhancement of the photos showed clearly two men, a sign of anguish from one, an open mouth from another as if shouting, there was still enough blurring not to be sure as to whether it was Hampton or Simmons shouting.

Otto McAlister enjoyed the first of the money he would fleece from the newspaper, their star reporter, an unexpected and much-appreciated bonus.

‘You’ve got to give me more,’ Ashley said during their cosy weekend getaway.

‘Next week,’ McAlister said as he drank his champagne, looked across at the bed, knowing that no was not an option from her.

A one-night stand was not an issue; a more extended period was, and Ashley Otway knew she was trapped; her ambition thwarted by a man whose idea of foreplay was rough, his calloused hands on her skin not conducive to love. She wanted to be rid of him, but she took him by the hand and led him to where he wanted her to be.

Another couple, romance not on their mind, listened to Otway and McAlister from an adjoining room. The squeaking of the bed didn’t interest them. ‘A waste of time, if that’s all they’re going to do,’ the man said.

Satisfied, albeit only for a while, McAlister lay beside Ashley. He had resumed drinking his champagne.

‘Otto, what will you give me next?’ Ashley said, attempting to get the man to look over at her.

‘Proof that it wasn’t an accident. Simmons hadn’t been with his wife, that I know, not before he left for South America.’

‘How?

‘How did I get the proof, or how do I know Angus hadn’t been Kate’s lover, regardless of what she said?’

‘Both.’

The man was tiresome, the lovemaking stolid and one-sided. Ashley Otway was not enjoying her time away from London.

‘I have a recording of them arguing at the base camp.’

‘Why?’

‘It was Angus, always looking for ways to make money. A documentary of the climb, a chance to sell it to a media company. I have a copy of the original, the unedited version.’

‘What does it say?’

‘It reveals the level of animosity between the two men; one of them unjustly accused, the other adamant that his one-time friend had cheated with his wife.’

‘Do people argue when climbing?’

‘Usually, they’re too focussed or too tired. They shouldn’t have been climbing, not that day, but they were determined men, alike in many ways, like brothers.’

‘That’s been mentioned before. What else?’

‘That’s it for now.’

‘Monday?’

‘Five thousand pounds, cash or bank transfer. Can that be arranged?’

‘It can. This weekend?’

‘The icing on the cake,’ McAlister said.

Resigned to her fate for the weekend, Ashley Otway realised the man wanted money more than her and that her compliance wasn’t going to make a difference. She got up from the bed, put on a pair of jeans, a top, and walking boots. ‘I’m going for a walk, be back in a couple of hours,’ she said.

‘When you get back,’ the reply, nodding over to her side of the bed.

Outside, away from the reluctant love nest, she breathed out loud, said to herself, ‘That’s the last sweetness you’re getting from me. From now on, the information is in exchange for money.’

As she walked along a scenic track nearby, she knew that she had to remain close to the man, not because she wanted to, but because it was vital. The information he had was valuable, and other people would pay for it, even more than her editor.

She turned around and returned to the hotel room and the loving if brutish hands of Otto McAlister.

***

Mike Hampton had been upset at Kate leaving, not that he would have told her. He was even more upset when his sister entered the house, going so far as to ask her to clear off, not that she was taking any notice of him. Thirty-five minutes after Deb had arrived, the knock on the door by a chief inspector and an inspector was enough to make the man blow his top.

‘Why don’t you—’

‘It’s homicide, Mr Hampton,’ Isaac said. ‘Here or at the police station, your choice.’

‘It’s better if you talk to them,’ the sister said.

‘When they leave, you can go with them.’

‘And leave you on your own? Kate’s taken off, back to whoever.’

‘It was your damn fool idea that she came back. I was better off without her.’

Isaac wasn’t interested in family conflict, only in asking questions, getting answers. Mike Hampton wasn’t the first belligerent interviewee he’d encountered.

‘Mr Hampton, there appears to be some vindication for you.’

‘It wasn’t an accident, not down there in South America.’

‘Tell us about the events leading up to it.’

‘Again?’

‘Yes, again. There may be something you missed before.’

‘Before? Throwing him off the mountain before he threw me wouldn’t have been a bad idea. How would you feel if your wife was cheating on you?’

‘Your reaction was