Amanda Cadabra and The Hidden Depths by Holly Bell (good book recommendations TXT) 📗

the woman shaking a playful finger, ‘Gillian.’

‘Of course. I hope you don’t mind my asking Dale for a few minutes of his time.’

‘Anything to help, my dear.’ She down at the table, ‘I understand he’s been telling you about his adventures. Oh yes, he’s a brave boy. Been all over the world. On every continent of the globe, has my Daley,’ Gillian added proudly.

There it was again. That feeling … that seed … the green shoot just peeping over the shell. Nans Breha. Valley Arm … no … no, that wasn’t right … and there was something wrong with what the woman had just said ….

‘Really?’ Amanda responded, with distracted politeness. Then recalling herself asked, ‘Have you travelled much with your son?’

‘Oh, I’ve travelled quite extensively, of course, as one does, but I’m more of a homebody at heart.’

‘Here we are!’ Dale came in with the tea tray carrying rose-patterned China cups and saucers, milk jug and bowl of sugar cubes. ‘Something to be going on with, while I finish off the bouquet and the treat.’

‘Thank you,’ responded Amanda. ‘Oh, I know something I’ve long wanted to ask you, well, both of you. Have you seen the seven wonders of the world, the new list from 2000?’

‘Erm …’ Dale hesitated. ‘Remind me. Pyramids? Yes …’

‘Coliseum?’

‘Yes.’

‘Taj Mahal?’

A phone rang in the back of the shop.

‘Er yes ... excuse me,’ said Dale and went to answer it.

Amanda continued, addressing Gillian, who added three sugar lumps to her tea and took up her cup and saucer:

‘Petra?’

‘Yes, well Daley has.’

And again. That niggle. Nans … valley … Breha … ha ... What if it was ‘Bre’ and ‘ha’ ...? Amanda had paused and Gillian was looking at her expectantly, taking a sip of her tea.

Amanda hastily said the next place that came into her head ‘Erm … Machu Picchu?’

‘Oh course he has!’ she replied with delight.

No, thought Amanda. That was wrong. Machu Picchu was in a place he said he’d never been: South America. Still, perhaps he’d been there only as a tourist and thought it didn’t count. They had been talking about his work after all, hadn’t they?

‘What was that like for him?’ she asked. ‘Pretty tame I expect.’

‘Here we are!’ The man himself entered carrying a small tray of three glass ramekins.

Amanda clapped her hands. ‘Oh that looks wonderful, Dale!’

‘Just something I threw together. Quick choc pud topped with strawberries and a drizzle of coconut cream. Oh yes, I remembered your asthma, Amanda. No dairy.’

‘How thoughtful.’

‘It’s an old family recipe, you know. It includes herbs and spices. See if you like it. Here’s a spoon.’

Chapter 40

Race

Trelawney passed friendly staff on his way through the Centre. There was no sign of Gibbs. The boardroom had but a single occupant.

‘Sir, thank you for seeing me.’

‘Well …’ replied Vigo as they shook hands. ‘Very awkward.’

‘This is all strictly off the record, sir.’

‘Yes, well … What do you want to know?’

The inspector came straight to the point.

‘Did Miss Gibbs ask you anything about Ashley Storridge’s expedition to Ecuador?’

‘Yes,’ Vigo replied frankly. ‘The long and the short of it is that I told her I gave Storridge the name of the guide who took me to — Not a matter that I would want to come to light.’

‘Please go on, sir.’

‘I needed a guide for a … an off-the-map … out-of-bounds destination. In Brazil. No one would do it until a contact of a contact spoke to this chap. He was under an exclusive contract to a particular company so he’d be moonlighting. The man asked for an exorbitantly high fee, and a … a false passport.’

‘And you were able to comply?’ Trelawney enquired delicately.

‘I was … in a position to meet his terms.’

‘Thank you, sir. His real name?’

‘I never knew it. But later I gave his phone number to Storridge, who asked for a recommendation as a favour. It was all strictly hush-hush, you understand.’

‘I do, sir. So, you told Miss Gibbs this? Did you give her any more information that could have led to her being able to identify the man?’

‘Hmm… not gave her; I found her looking through the photos on my phone. There was one, just one that I took of the chap when he was unawares. Oh, just as a bit of a curiosity, you know. And partly because he’d insisted on no photos. It was just for my own memorabilia, so to speak. But I don’t know if it was any good. If she was able to recognise anyone from it.’

‘May I see it, sir? No one else need know that you took it.’

‘Yes, of course.’ Vigo searched his phone. He was warming up now. Somehow Trelawney was making him feel more part of the investigation than an embarrassed suspect. The inspector put another question while the man busied himself with his photo gallery:

‘Can you recall anything else about him? Height?’

‘On the tall side of medium, I suppose you’d say.’

‘Age?’

‘Late thirties? Hard to tell … Here. See?’

He handed the phone to Trelawney, gesturing.

‘Under all that black hair, beard, walnut skin, could be anyone, I’d have thought. Blue eyes, mind. Quite startling. Nice chap, you know, and a finer guide I could not have a wished for. No need to tell you how many narrow scrapes we had. A fine time though,’ he added with a touch of mischief.

Trelawney examined the image with the detective’s eye … Take away the beard, shorten the hair … try the skin in different shades … change the colour of the hair … No, Samantha would not have known him then … but later … when she came to Sunken Madley … Not for nothing was she a fashion aficionado, with an eye for detail, the look, the makeover possibilities. She would have seen him, and the penny dropped.

Thomas’s distracted gaze strayed to the large ceramic bowl of water on the table: a centrepiece with five floating flower-shaped tealights. In a patch of candle-free surface, Thomas saw it: a muffin-shaped cake with a