A Grave in the Cotswolds by Rebecca Tope

By Rebecca Tope

Undertaker Drew Slocombe isn't having a very good day. His enterprise is failing, the automobile wishes an MOT (safety inspection) and he’s using one hundred twenty miles to the Cotswolds to hold out the overdue Greta Simmonds’ ultimate needs. regrettably, whilst he will get there, a string of bureaucratic error implies that he’s now the executive suspect of a homicide inquiry. He’s starting to want he had by no means heard of Greta Simmonds. Thea Osborne and her dependable spaniel Hepzie are nonetheless pursuing their career as house-sitters, regardless of the disastrous incidents of the previous. for the time being they're staying in Greta Simmonds’ condo, that's at the moment among possession. Thea is torn among relocating again domestic or expecting the execution of the need. in spite of everything, she does have remarkable funds due. Then the invention of a physique in a close-by box takes the choice out of Thea’s fingers, and she or he reveals herself embroiled in a homicide research once more. Having befriended the police’s basically suspect, Drew Slocombe, Thea believes him to be blameless. As Thea and Drew interact to transparent his identify, it slowly dawns on them that during a village simmering with secrets and techniques, a way and a intent can be laid at anybody’s door.

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Sample text

And let me tell you,’ I said, even louder, finally losing my temper, ‘that I don’t intend to let you win. People like you don’t deserve to have any authority; you understand nothing about what really matters. ’ We had begun to move back to the road by this time. At my parting shot, Mr Maynard had already turned his back and begun to march stiffly off, in a northerly direction, towards the village of Broad Campden. A car came towards us and slowed to a halt beside my vehicle. ’ came a voice I recognised.

She smiled at me, and for the first time I caught a flash of her mother in her. ‘It’s a nice grave,’ she added, and I felt she’d awarded me some kind of major Brownie point. ‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘It’ll be a shame if they have to disinter her. Although…’ she looked thoughtful, ‘it might be interesting to observe, I suppose. ’ ‘It wouldn’t be soon, though,’ I said.

Yes, yes. Look, I’ll get the tyres replaced today, OK? ’ ‘Sir, this is not about tyres. It concerns a burial in Gloucestershire yesterday. ’ ‘What? Yes. Mrs Simmonds. ’ ‘There has been a complaint, sir. From the council. ’ My impatience escalated. This was familiar territory. ‘The burial was entirely legal,’ I told him. ‘The council has no jurisdiction over what was done. Believe me, I know my rights on this. ’ ‘The council owns the land, sir. ’ His face relaxed a little as he heard his own words.

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