The Shining Skull by Kate Ellis Read Free Book Online Page A

ignored the last question. ‘He should know what you’re doing to yourself . . . How you’re throwing away everything we’ve
     worked for . . . ’
    Leah stared at her mother and drew herself up to her full height. Suddenly she seemed to have sobered up. ‘Everything you’ve
     worked for, you mean.’ She turned unsteadily on her stiletto heels. ‘I’m out of here. I can’t stand this any more.’
    ‘Where are you going?’ Suzy asked, trying hard to keep the nascent hysteria she was feeling out of her voice. She had to
     stay calm. It was the only way to deal with the situation. ‘You’ve got to understand, Leah. I’m only thinking of you.’
    The generous lips that had smiled out from the covers of Leah Wakefield’s four best-selling albums, formed a snarl as she
     turned back to face her mother. ‘I’m going.’ She tossed her mane of blond hair. ‘I’ll be in touch when I’m ready.’
    ‘But there’s that magazine interview coming up. You’ll have to . . . ’
    ‘I haven’t got to do anything. Tell them I’m not well.’ She span round. ‘Tell them I’m dead.’
    She marched out of the kitchen without looking back.
    The man driving the dark-blue minicab pulled his woolly hat down so that his bearded face was in shadow. The registration
     number had been changed again. That was good. And he had the peel-off logos in the glove box ready. He was prepared and there
     was no way anybody would be able to track him down. No way anybody could halt his mission.
    He listened to the radio, crackling on the dashboard. He knew their voices by now, the men and women in the control rooms:
     he had started to think of them almost as friends as he listened to their banter and their feeble jokes.
    He slouched back in his seat. Some nights he had no luck and it looked as if this would be one of them. Then suddenly everything
     changed. A name. Female. Could Eddie pick her up and she wanted to go into Morbay.
    The man’s heart started to pound as he started the engine. He had the equipment in the glove box. Everything was ready . .
     . if she was what he was looking for.
    * * *
    Leah Wakefield knew that she was in no fit state to drive. Although a drink-driving charge on top of everything else hardly
     seemed an alarming prospect at that moment. If that happened she’d get someone to drive for her. A chauffeur, she thought,
     as she tottered down the drive on her precarious heels. A good-looking one – dark with rippling muscles.
    She started to laugh and, as the huge electronic gates came into view, she stopped and took a deep breath. She’d been meant
     to drive to the meeting place – that had been the arrangement – but she didn’t think she was capable of putting the key in
     the ignition, never mind negotiating the narrow Devon lanes. Maybe she’d go back now. She’d made her point to the old bitch,
     fired warning shots across her bow.
    But, after a moment’s hesitation, she continued walking. An arrangement was an arrangement and publicity was oxygen to keep
     the flames of her fame alive and crackling. It wasn’t far to the main road. She’d walk it. Pick up a taxi. It’d clear her
     head.
    She looked up at the stars and laughed out loud, the sound breaking the still silence of velvet night, before walking very
     slowly, towards the road.
    Lost in her own thoughts, she was unaware of someone behind her, approaching silently across the neatly trimmed lawn.
    When the strong hand locked over her mouth, she collapsed against the warm body of her assailant, unable to scream. Helpless.

Chapter Three
Letter from Squire Bentham to the Reverend Charles Boden, 14th
May 1815
    I do assure you, sir, that the boy, Peter Hackworthy, has come to no harm on his travels. Rather the lad enjoys the adulation
     he receives for his performances. I myself have witnessed the generosity of the crowd as they shower him with gifts of money.
     You will be aware, sir, that the Hackworthy family is large – I myself have