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When Jack Colby hears the voice of his former wife Eva on the phone he fears the worst – and he is right to do so. The body of her husband, Mexican band leader Carlos, has been found on the towpath of the River Medway and Eva becomes the chief suspect. Car detective Jack goes into action – although he is hindered by a second case, as the beguilingly beautiful twenty-year-old Daisy is determined that his efforts should be devoted to finding her stolen Morris Minor classic known as Melody.
Jack storms ahead on both cases but runs into two firewalls: firstly, the unity presented by the remaining members of the Mexican band Carlos had formed at the May Tree pub twenty years earlier and then abandoned; and secondly, Daisy’s grandmother, Belinda. When a second murder takes place, Jack is right in the centre of the action and the road to its solution means driving headlong into danger.
full time. He, too, was an archaeologist.’ ‘Not Ambrose Fairbourne?’ I’d heard of him years ago. ‘Specialized in Kentish history and archaeology and was always appearing on local radio and television?’ ‘Yes. He was a great man. Josie is very happy there.’ She moved on, it seemed to me rather quickly. ‘The other Charros suffered too. Jonathan Lamb who played the violin went through a very sad time, poor man. But he has recovered and runs an interior decoration business called The House of Lamb
down for it, and Frank Watson did a runner.’ ‘With the loot?’ ‘That’s the story. And …’ Len paused and wiped his hands on the special rag from which he will never be parted and which must have more residual oil on it than a leaking sump. It’s his way of playing for time. ‘Took Wilson’s missus with him,’ he finished. The missus had to wait. I’d just done a belated U-turn. ‘Frank Watson? Any relation to Neil?’ If ever a breath was bated, mine was. ‘His dad.’ I reeled at this connection,
to recover quickly. ‘Carlos and Ambrose could have met before the shoot-out though. Ambrose had been a regular for years before that, and Carlos had visited the pub with his father’s band.’ It was a weak recovery though – I knew it, and Belinda spotted it. That made me press on even more rashly. ‘With both Ambrose and Carlos there that evening, either or both of them could have known what happened to Watson and the Crowshaw Collection, couldn’t they?’ ‘I’m not psychic, Jack. They would hardly
major issue. The cathedral we know today is mainly twelfth-century workmanship. With Thomas Becket’s tomb safely in the crypt and his shrine erected, the age of pilgrimage to the city had begun. The cathedral had survived the dissolution of the monasteries and even the second world war bombs only dented it slightly. Pilgrims used to approach the cathedral on their knees, their horses presumably parked elsewhere, as is today’s motor traffic wherever possible. Even the large shops that now
before Eva took me away.’ ‘You were only three.’ ‘That’s why I don’t remember more. But this part I do. The nursery rhyme. Humpty Dumpty who fell off a wall. It frightened me, and you said you didn’t like the ending either.’ ‘All the King’s horses and all the king’s men,’ I began. ‘Couldn’t put Humpty together again,’ she finished for me. I gave some thought to this. ‘Cara, you’re a clever lady. I’ve been trying to put Humpty together again, and today I thought I had all the pieces to nail