Deadfall by Lyndon Stacey Read Free Book Online Page A

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    â€˜How’d the dinner go last night?’ Geoff asked.
    They were on their way to the mill in the Land-Rover to cast an eye over the progress made by the contractors.
    â€˜Very well,’ Linc replied. ‘The guys from WaterHeritage seemed very pleased with the work so far and they’ve agreed to extend the loan to cover the new budget.’
    The meal had indeed gone well. Since coming to Farthingscourt, Crispin’s wife Nikki had taken on the role of hostess there. It was one that she relished and, it had to be said, carried out with flair. Blonde and pretty, she dressed elegantly and used just the right degree of flirtatious charm to ensure that her male guests enjoyed their evening, without upsetting any wives who might be present.
    Linc took his hat off to her. The daughter of a wealthy London night-club owner, he had met her at a party and introduced her to his family after only half a dozen dates almost as an act of rebellion, knowing she wasn’t the type of girl his father had in mind as the future Lady Tremayne. However, she had neatly turned the tables on him, enslaving both Sylvester and Linc’s brother Crispin with her big blue eyes and pretty ways, and never once giving a hint of the hard edge Linc knew her to have.
    Now, nearly eighteen months after her marriage, he was prepared to admit he might have been mistaken in her. Their own brief relationship had been a stormy affair, initiated in an unguarded moment and governed by Nikki’s clingy possessiveness. Unsurprisingly, she hadn’t taken the break-up well. He supposed he couldn’t altogether blame her, for although he’d never led her to believe he was in any way serious, taking her to visit Farthingscourt had perhaps raised her hopes unfairly high and it wasn’t something he was proud of. In the end, through her marriage to Crispin, she had made Farthingscourt her home anyway, albeitin one of the cottages on the estate, rather than the main house.
    She had, over the months, immersed herself in the preparations for the many functions and events that the house played host to, showing a natural flair for creating exactly the right mood with music and decoration, and had recently taken over the twice-weekly flower arranging in the show rooms. Linc knew his father thought her a major asset, and Nikki showed by the looks she occasionally cast in Linc’s direction that she was well aware of her triumph.
    Farthingscourt Mill stood higher up the river from the house and its lake, at the point where the valley narrowed and the water became much faster-flowing. When the mill was built, some two hundred years before, the river had been dammed and a millpond excavated to provide the fall of water necessary to turn the breastshot wheel.
    A private lane ran from the east of the house, about a mile and a half along the side of the valley, past the mill and on to join the public road that linked the two villages of Farthing St Anne and Farthing St Thomas. The mill car park, just off the lane, was currently a cleared area spread with hardcore and awaiting a top-dressing of asphalt when the heavy machinery no longer visited the site.
    Linc and Geoff Sykes climbed out of the Land-Rover, accompanied by Geoff ’s two bouncing black Labradors who immediately made for the water and plunged in. The mill house was a beautiful stone building from which the accumulated ivy growth of the last fifty years had recently been cleared, allowing light to flood through its mullioned windows and spill on to the dusty wooden floors once more.
    In spite of the years of neglect, the three-storey building was found to be surprisingly sound, the biggest repair project being the roof where many of the timbers needed replacing but which had, thankfully, not leaked to any great extent.
    Linc and his deputy-manager walked along the front of the building to the narrow footbridge that spanned the tail race, just below the wheel. Crossing this and