Minds That Hate by Bill Kitson Read Free Book Online

don’t understand, Jake. He’ll be out in a few days.’
    ‘Even better: next time we’ll torch the house with him in it.’
     
    ‘Tucker speaking.’
    ‘I’ve got the information you asked for.’
    ‘Fire away.’
    ‘The vehicle is registered to Mrs Vanessa Rathmell, of Houlston Lodge, Helmsdale.’ Tucker whistled. Sometimes a journalist has to pay a lot for information. Sometimes the information is worth the outlay. Tucker knew this was worth every penny.
    Now he’d a decision to make. Should he follow Rathmell and the adultery angle, or continue to follow Gemma for more background on the Vickers case? He’d been tipped off by a contact at Felling that Vickers was due out. What intrigued him was the planned return to his home, almost unheard of for a convicted sex offender. There was a human interest angle in Vickers’ tale.
    On the other hand, there was Gemma Fletcher’s adultery with the local MEP. Elected as an Independent, Rathmell had shown little inclination to either wing of the political spectrum. Despite that, there were rumours that Rathmell held strong views on immigration and race. Tucker thought there’d be more mileage in pursuing Rathmell. It was no secret that Rathmell relied on his wife’s money. It was also known that Vanessa Rathmell’s family were staunch Catholics, certainly where divorce was concerned. They were also intensely private and wouldn’t take kindly to their name being splashed across the tabloids. First he’d research the man. This involved scanning newspaper files and reading his speeches and press announcements. Not a task Tucker looked forward to with enthusiasm.
     

Chapter six
     
    Juris was content. Homesick, but content. When his father died, the future looked bleak for him, his mother and his younger brothers. At eighteen, Juris was unable to support the family. Mechanisation had reduced the need for agricultural workers dramatically. Unskilled in anything else, Juris had to compete with other, more experienced applicants.
    A welcome solution arrived. The rumour flashed round the village that a stranger was offering work. True, it was many hundreds of miles away, but the pay was good and the stranger was prepared to loan the fare. It was agricultural work too. He met the stranger, a Lithuanian called Zydrumas, and the deal was struck. That had been two years ago.
    When he arrived in North Yorkshire, Juris was billeted in a camp for migrant workers. After three months, more suitable accommodation was found, close to the farm where he worked. Juris wrote to tell his mother he was sharing a house on an estate called Westlea. He wrote home often with his news, and to send money. She received the letters and money with equal pleasure and wrote back to thank him. She expressed her pride and love. Her only sadness was that she missed him.
    The work was seasonal, but by limiting expenditure, Juris could support his family throughout the year. Although there was opportunity to return home once the season was over, Juris declined this. That would mean extra fares. He would rather save that money and remain in England. He might even find work during the winter.
    He’d no success the first year and to alleviate his boredom Juris began improving his limited English. Although his education had been basic, he’d a quick brain and soon mastered a few simple words and phrases. Listening carefully and copying those around him accelerated the process and by winter Juris felt confident enough to enrol for night classes.
    During the second winter he found casual work in the kitchens of a local hotel. It was only at weekends, except during December and January when this extended to most nights of the week. Juris didn’t mind that it was tedious, repetitive work. He didn’t even mind being sworn at, or blamed for everything that went wrong. Although his English was improving rapidly, the college courses didn’t give him the fluency a few nights in the hotel kitchen