The Plantagenet Vendetta by John Paul Davis Read Free Book Online

time.”
    Jen smiled half-heartedly. She knew that the disappearance was a sensitive issue, but at least these three seemed undisturbed by the memory of it all.
    “Ey, pay no attention to our Gavin,” the thinner man said. “His mouth has always been larger than his forehead. Here, let me buy you a drink, Miss Farrelly.”
    “I was actually hoping to get some food,” Jen said, looking at Mitchell.
    “Restaurant is open until nine, or if you prefer, you can get bar food here – that way you can continue to talk to these two idiots.”
    Jen laughed, not knowing what else to do. “Do you have a menu for the bar?”
    Mitchell passed Jen a menu. She scanned it quickly and settled for the cheeseburger with chips.
    “Anything to drink?” Mitchell asked.
    “Just a Coke, please.”
    “Here, let me buy this,” the thinner man offered.
    “Thanks,” Jen said, placing her hair behind her right ear, “Mr…”
    “Hancock. Brian Hancock.”
    The man offered his hand, and Jen accepted. “Thank you, Mr Hancock.”
    “Think nothing of it, Miss Farrelly, please call me Brian.”
    Jen smiled, this time more warmly, half amused, half not wanting to offend. She looked around the bar area, taking in the sights. No matter where she looked, she saw thick wooden beams crossing the large beige-coloured ceiling, reflecting the yellow of the wall lights. Although the inn was far from empty, many of the tables and booths were vacant.
    It was cosy, but she guessed it wasn’t a place that was regularly frequented by outsiders.
    “So you work in telly? I always fancied myself as a bit of a film star, me.” Hancock laughed as he reached for his pint. “You weren’t down here before, were you? I mean a year ago?”
    “No, I was working on something else then.”
    “Ah, I thought I didn’t remember seeing your face. Never forget a face.”
    “Just everything else,” Mitchell said, as he passed Jen her Coke. “That’ll be £7.49, then, please, Mr Hancock.”
    Hancock smirked as he passed over the change. “Don’t forget to take one for yourself, Harvey.”
    “Did you know her well?” Jen asked.
    “What? Debra?” Hancock asked. “Not a person in the whole village who didn’t.”
    She expected nothing less. “How about the boy?”
    So far no one had spoken of the alleged culprit.
    “Again, they were both local, you see. It’s a small village here, Wootton. Everyone knows everything about everyone in these parts.”
    Jen sipped her Coke as she listened. The thought intrigued her. In London, she was used to the opposite. Though she was reluctant to take gossip on face value, she knew that local knowledge could be a reputable source.
    And often an easy one to tap.
    “What was he like, the lad?”
    “I never liked him,” the man named Gavin said, beating Hancock to a response. Until now he had seemed less interested in Jen.
    Jen was intrigued. “Any particular reason?”
    “Mainly his personality.”
    Jen smiled. “Was he selfish? Unpleasant? Arrogant?”
    “No. He was one of those.”
    “One of what, sorry?”
    “He wasn’t quite right in the head.”
    Hancock shook his head. “Poor lad was autistic.”
    “You’re certain?” Although Jen was aware of the rumours, she had yet to hear any firm confirmation.
    “Well, that might not be the technical name for it.”
    Jen nodded, unwilling to push the issue. “You didn’t know him well?”
    Hancock shrugged. “Didn’t really see him that much, to be fair. He didn’t appear that much in public.”
    “Any idea where he went to school?”
    “St Joseph’s secondary, that’s the Catholic school.”
    “No,” Gavin interrupted. “He didn’t go to St Joseph’s; he went to that special school.”
    “Oh, that’s right.” Hancock remembered. “He used to go to St Joseph’s. Then his mother took him to another school.”
    For the first time Jen was learning something new. Right or wrong, she knew it would be easy enough to check.
    “Why did he leave St