The Dungeon House (Lake District Mysteries) Read Online Free PDF Page B

invite. Impressive place you have here. Take my advice, and enjoy it while you can.’
    Malcolm’s head was swimming. He stuffed the envelopeinto his pocket unopened. ‘Don’t … don’t underestimate me, Hansie.’
    A grin cracked Morkel’s face. It was like watching a rock split in two. ‘Truth to tell, Malcolm, my mistake was overestimating you. As well as the value of your shitty little company. Ah well, we live and learn, eh?’
    With a derisive laugh, he strolled away in the direction of the makeshift car park at the back of the house. Malcolm’s chest felt on fire. What had possessed him to jump into bed with those South African thugs? It was like selling your soul to the Mafia. No way would he surrender, even if they set out to bankrupt him. The Durham kid’s song said it all. If he did go down, he’d make sure he went in a ‘Blaze of Glory.’
    ‘All right, Malcolm?’ Robbie Dean asked.
    ‘I’ve had better days.’ No point in bullshitting Deano. ‘Fancy a pint?’
    ‘Sure.’
    Deano’s expression never gave much away. He wasn’t the sort to offer well-meant advice to go easy on the booze. His indifference to others was a strength. Malcolm’s problem was that he cared too much. Most of all about Lysette.
    ‘The lawn is bone dry,’ Malcolm said as they reached the bar. ‘Two pints, Dave, thanks. Remember when it pissed down last August, and finished up like a mud bath? See those bare patches.’
    ‘I’ll put the sprinklers on full blast tomorrow.’
    Malcolm lifted the plastic tankard. ‘Cheers.’
    Deano wasn’t the most skilled plantsman in the world, but he didn’t mind putting in a shift, and how many homeowners had a one-time football star on the payroll?He was a far better player than Ted’s son, Nigel, and after he was picked for England schoolboys, some good judges had predicted he’d go all the way. Preston North End signed him on, and only a bad tackle that tore his cruciate ligaments had kept him out of the first team. While trying to regain his fitness, he went out clubbing one night with Nigel and two girls. One of them was Gray’s PA, the girl who was potty about Nigel. Robbie took a bend too fast, showing off to the pretty blonde in the front passenger seat, and veered off the road and into a tree. Neither he nor the blonde girl was wearing a seatbelt. She went through the windscreen, and was dead on arrival at A & E.
    Thinking aloud, he said, ‘Life’s a bugger.’
    Robbie Dean’s moody face stared over the rim of his glass. ‘You never said a truer word.’
    People were drifting away, and an elderly couple Malcolm hardly knew came up to say cheerio. He mumbled pleasantries, keeping one eye on Scott Durham, but the bloke was on his best behaviour. He and Lysette must have made a pact: do nothing to stoke up suspicion. Cooking had finished for the afternoon, and Gray Elstone, angular frame draped untidily over the iron-work bench outside the rose garden, signalled to him. Gray had forgotten to take off his ketchup-stained apron, making him look like a butcher taking a break from bloodthirsty work. His grimace was usually reserved for funerals and bad news from the Revenue.
    ‘You spoke to Morkel?’
    ‘Uh-huh.’ Malcolm took another swig. ‘He gave me this envelope. Inside are my marching orders. I nearly shoved them up his arse.’
    Gray winced. ‘Morkel hinted he’d drop all claims if you walk away from the business and repay sixty per cent of the purchase price. A clean break.’
    Malcolm almost choked on a mouthful of ale. ‘I’ll break his fucking neck first. Chuck away everything, in return for a measly forty per cent? He must think he’s fucking well tipping a servant back in Joburg. It’s a joke.’
    ‘Don’t fly off the handle.’ Gray nibbled his thumbnail. ‘Bad for your blood pressure. Honestly, you need to think about his offer. It’s an opening shot, my guess is that he’ll settle for fifty-fifty. We might even squeeze out better terms in