Flight Path: A Wright & Tran Novel Read Online Free PDF

option.
    Toby and Jacob had filled in for the O’Neills on a number of occasions, like with the Franklyn meet, and Kara and Tien had always been impressed, but Toby’s wife Sally was due into hospital early the next morning to have an impacted wisdom tooth extracted, so Toby was looking after his three young kids. That meant for a short-notice, potentially overnight trip to Suffolk, only the younger Jacob was available.
    There were others that Kara and Tien could call on but the job was low-risk and they decided it wasn’t worth the extra logistics or the delay to get them in place. So it was that Jacob, Tien and Kara drove the couple of hours north and east and now sat in the converted barn accommodation of a Suffolk pub called the Beech Tree Inn. Given it was November, they had the place to themselves.
    Kara finished briefing Jacob on the case.
    “I remember him from when I was growing up,” Jacob said, looking at a couple of photos of Derek Swift.
    “How come?” Tien asked.
    “He had a talk show. It was a local round-up of the week. My Dad used to watch it. Who knew he’d turn out to be a thieving toerag… Swift I mean, not my Dad.”
    Tien giggled, “Well, obviously.” She flipped open the laptop and brought up overhead satellite imagery of the town. The barn accommodation was less than three hundred yards from the house she zoomed in on.
    “This is Francis Amberley’s end of terrace. There’s no practical way we can get an eyes-on recce of the place. His back garden is a postage stamp and the front door opens onto the street,” Tien said, pointing out the features as she spoke.
    “Are those football pitches on the other side of his garden wall?” Jacob asked.
    “Hockey I think,” Tien said. “They’re the sports fields for this private school,” she continued to manipulate the image so that it scanned out, “located in the same grounds as this church,” she said, as the image revealed an expansive school building surrounded by manicured lawns and sitting next to a late-14 th century church with a solid, square tower reaching over one-hundred feet into the air. The whole scene encapsulated biscuit-tin images of little England.
    “Bit posher than my old Alma Mater,” Jacob said with an appreciative low whistle.
    “Yeah? Where was that?” Tien asked.
    “Hylands Comprehensive, Chelmsford.”
    “Umm, yeah,” Tien said with an over-exaggerated nod of her head. “I’d say this one’s a bit more exclusive. Given the wide open playing fields and the lawn fairway right up to the main building it’s definitely lovely, but of no use to us for mounting observations from.”
    “Can’t we just go knock on his door?” Jacob asked.
    “I’d prefer not to,” Kara said. “I’d like it if the location was more neutral. Especially if we can’t get a look inside the house first. It hands all the advantage to him, makes it difficult to get a tell on him and we don’t know what he’s got access to in there.”
    “What about the marina where he works?” Jacob offered.
    “Same deal as the house really,” Kara said.
    “That leaves the pub it says he goes to,” Tien said.
    “Yes, that’s an option,” Kara nodded, “Do we know where it is?”
    “No, but there can’t be that many places within walking distance from his-” Tien cut herself off.
    “What’s the matter?” Jacob asked.
    Tien turned the laptop around to show a Google map of the town. “I was going to say there can’t be too many pubs within walking distance of his house, but it turns out there are ten.”
    “Good old Woodbridge,” Jacob said. “It’s a wonder anyone can walk anywhere.”
    “How many host quizzes?” Kara asked.
    “Already ahead of you,” said Tien, her fingers dancing over the laptop keyboard. “Three. One of which is this pub we’re staying at, the others are the Angel, about a mile north of here on the main street and the Old Seafarer, which is practically right outside the marina’s main