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

‘Henstridge clammed up when we asked about Hampton moving his toes. He was right, gave us more than I expected, but he’s not going to be drawn on a contentious area.’

‘It’s not his responsibility,’ Larry said. ‘What are the chances of a court order?’

‘On what grounds?’

‘Then we need Hampton to sign the letter of consent.’

‘You or me, or should we leave it with Wendy?’ Isaac asked.

‘She can talk to Deb Hampton, to the man’s wife, see if they can talk him around.’

***

Otto McAlister, his phone calls to Ashley unanswered, was unsure what to do next. He had seen her leaving the Savoy with Jaden, smiling at each other, sharing a taxi.

Desperate and believing that she was leaving him for Jaden, he went to the pub, drank five pints and then drove to her home. If she were there with another man, he’d deal with him, then her.

‘Who is it?’ a voice called out from inside the house.

‘Otto,’ he said.

It was after one in the morning, and no one was in the street, apart from a drunk staggering home, a couple of cats and a stray dog.

‘Go away. It’s late; I need to sleep,’ Ashley said.

‘With who? I saw you with him,’ McAlister said. He was feeling unsteady, swaying from side to side. He wasn’t a drinker, and five pints had been too much for him, but it was Dutch courage, the courage to approach the woman, to find out what was going on, to plan for the future.

He had already decided that once he had the money, the two hundred thousand, he was off to Thailand or Cambodia, somewhere he could live cheaply, and with that sort of money, he could live well.

‘I’ll phone you tomorrow.’

‘Now, we need to talk now.’

Along the road, bedroom lights were going on, residents wanting to know what the disturbance was. A voice shouted out, ‘Shut up, go home.’

‘Bugger off,’ McAlister said in response.

‘I’ll phone the police,’ Ashley said. She stood on the other side of the door. He bent down, pushed open the letterbox flap; he could see her, dressed in a bra and panties. He was wild, desperate and drunk.

‘You have to let me in, or I’ll shout the place down.’

It was either the neighbours or opening the door. Ashley Otway chose the latter.

‘I’ve got a Taser,’ she said as he lunged forward.

‘I wanted to see who you had upstairs.’

‘Nobody, I’m on my own.’

‘I don’t trust you, and what were you doing with Jaden?’

‘Trying to get your money. What do you think I’d be doing with him? He’s old enough to be my father, and I’m not whoring myself with him, not with you, not anymore. You’ll get your money, and then I don’t want to see you again.’

‘But tonight, I’m here.’

‘You can have a black coffee, something to eat and then leave.’

A move forward by the man, and she levelled a spray and pushed down on the plunger.

McAlister bent over double and collapsed to the ground.

‘You asked for it. It was either mace or the Taser. Now, will you be calm?’

‘I will.’

More relaxed than she thought she would be, she phoned Isaac. ‘My house, as soon as possible. Otto McAlister’s here, and I don’t trust him.’

‘Lock yourself in a room; give me ten minutes.’

‘If he moves, I’ll use a Taser.’

‘They’re illegal.’

‘I brought one back when I was covering a story in the Middle East. Arrest me if you want, but I’ll use it on McAlister if he makes a move.’

‘You bastard,’ McAlister said.

‘Lie down flat, put your hands behind you.’

‘What for? It’s not as if we haven’t slept together before.’

‘This is my house, and you’ve invaded my personal space.’

‘I’ll not comply.’

‘Suit yourself. I’ll use the Taser, and don’t think I won’t.’

‘Just a coffee, not the Taser.’

‘Don’t move, not until the police get here.’

‘Water for my eyes?’

‘When the police are here. For now, don’t move, and I mean it.’

Realising that the front door was still open, Ashley made a move to close it. McAlister, drunk and angry, tried to grab her ankle. She took aim with the Taser and pressed the trigger, the man writhing in agony. Regardless of his situation, she grabbed hold of a cable tie and fastened him to a radiator in the hallway.

‘Sit yourself up. I’ll get you coffee and water for your eyes.’

‘You bastard,’ McAlister garbled. The effect of the mace, the power of the Taser, had rendered him barely capable of coherent speech. And on the floor, a rapidly forming puddle where he had wet himself.

A knock on the door. ‘Ashley, are you alright?’ Isaac shouted out.

‘I am now,’ she said as she opened the door. ‘I don’t think he is, though.’

‘Tasered?’

‘Mace, as well.’

‘You’d better hope he doesn’t want to press charges.’

Isaac took out his phone, requested an ambulance. ‘Hopefully, they’ll treat him here. What’s this all about?’ he said.

‘Drunk, thought I was cheating on him, as if.’

‘Remove the cable tie, and we’ll make him comfortable,’ Isaac said. ‘McAlister, we’re going to pick you up, put you into a comfy chair. Miss Otway’s going to fetch us a drink. Is that alright, Ashley?’

‘How is he?’

‘He’ll be alright. I was tasered at the police academy. They were looking for a volunteer; it hurts like hell, but recovery doesn’t take long.’

‘Why, Ashley, why?’ McAlister said. His voice was calmer, although still weak and tremulous.

‘A change of clothing might help,’ Isaac said.

‘I’ve got some that’ll fit.’

‘A man upstairs?’ McAlister said. To Isaac, the man was a lovesick puppy, although Ashley Otway, in underwear, was enough to turn any man’s head.

‘My brother, if you must know. He stays over sometimes, keeps some clothes