Cherringham--Ghost of a Chance by Neil Richards Read Free Book Online Page A

safest option,” he said. “Turns out I was wrong.”
    Sarah looked around the empty dining room. Of the fifteen or so tables only three were taken.
    Not surprising, given the standard of the food.
    At a table for two in the far corner, she could see Basil Whistlethwaite, enthusiastically digging into his meal. His dining partner, an awkward looking guy in his forties in a creased linen suit, toyed with a salad whilst keeping half an eye on the rest of the room.
    “Looks like Basil’s made friends already,” she said, nodding towards the far table.
    She waited while Jack casually glanced over his shoulder.
    “You thinking what I’m thinking?” he said, turning back to attack his steak again.
    “Reporter?”
    “Yep, he’s got that look.”
    “Maybe we’ll drop by the bar after dinner,” said Sarah. “If he is one then he’s sure to join us.”
    Jack slid his “double cooked french fries” across the table towards her.
    “So good they cooked them twice,” he said.
    “No thanks. Got my work cut out with the mash. Lumps like stones …”
    “We may be here some time, then,” said Jack. “So, you going to tell me what you’ve found, detective, while I’ve been working the scene of the crime?”
    “Sure. A couple of things,” said Sarah, pushing the pie to one side of her plate and diverting to the vegetables. “Kind of interesting …”
    “Shoot.”
    Sarah leaned in closer and lowered her voice. The nearest occupied table was yards away, but she didn’t want any eavesdropping.
    “Okay. I went online, checked out the planning history of the hotel. Seems there have been two enquiries about developing the place in the last year. Both were recommended to be rejected.”
    “You know why?”
    “The plans involved demolishing the building completely. Turning it into a spa retreat. With its historical status, it would take a lot of lawyers to get an okay for that …”
    “Interesting. Any idea who the developer is?”
    “Consortium of some kind,” said Sarah. “But if I get an hour or two tomorrow, I can probably track down the principals.”
    “And you think the Myrtles are involved?”
    “Have to be, right? Though whether it’s Lawrence or Crispin—
    “Or both.”
    “True. Could be. Could be neither.”
    “How so?
    “Remember Lawrence mentioned his daughter — Mandy?”
    “Sure. Lives in London.”
    “Works in London. Wait for it … In ‘global hospitality investment’.”
    “Aha,” said Jack. “Hotel finance?”
    “Yep.”
    “Now that is interesting …”
    “I also spoke to our lawyer friend Tony — who sends his regards by the way — and he tells me—”
    “In total confidence, of course …”
    “Of course … He’s acted for a couple of the hotel’s creditors recently, forcing the Myrtles to pay outstanding debts.”
    “So they really are going broke?”
    “I downloaded the last two years’ accounts,” said Sarah. “Myrtle Hotels is losing money hand over fist …”
    “I see where you’re going. You think they could be doing things on purpose? Letting the place slide …”
    “A property like this, in the heart of Cherringham — run it down hard enough and suddenly all that planning opposition just melts away …”
    “Especially when you add a nice ghost story into the mix …”
    “Scare off all the guests—”
    “Health and Safety guys screaming blue murder, insurers not paying out …”
    “It all adds up, no?”
    “And there was I thinking the Myrtles were the good guys,” said Jack. “And of course — let’s not be too hasty — they may well be.”
    “You’re right. We don’t have any proof.”
    “But we have a credible theory,” said Jack. “Now we just have to work out how they did the ghost stuff, and how that chandelier fell …”
    “Or rather — who did it …”
    “Maybe we should ask the Myrtles themselves?” said Jack, nodding towards the dining room door.
    Sarah looked across the room and saw Lawrence with a younger man