CXVI The Beginning of the End (Book 1): A Gripping Murder Mystery and Suspense Thriller (CXVI BOOK 1) Read Free Page A

Proudfoot was a former work colleague from
back in the 1980s; she had been the secretary at the law firm where Pauline
first practised, and the two had become good friends.
    “Hi, Tracey,” she said, trying to sound upbeat. “It’s
been a while.”
    “Yes, I think the last time we spoke was just after
Gerrard’s funeral.”
    “Yes it was,” Pauline said, thinking back.
    “How are you and the kids?”
    “I’m okay, I suppose,” she replied, sounding
anything but. “The kids are enjoying university, although they’re both on a
gap-year travelling around Asia together. Sarah rings me every couple of weeks
to see how I’m doing, and Scott, well he misses his father.”
    “Have you still got the menagerie?”
    “Yes, I’m currently in the yard, checking on them.
So how are you doing?”
    “I’ve got some news about me and Austin. We’re tying
the knot next year and we’d love you to come to the wedding.”
    “Oh, congratulations. That’s great news. It’s nice
to hear something good for a change; of course I’ll come.”
    “Fantastic,” Tracey replied. “Anyhow, I’ve got some other
bits of news that might interest you.”
    “Go on,” Pauline prompted.
    “I went to Jim Broadbent’s funeral last week; he’d
been living in a home and he’d been ill for some time.”
    A shiver shot straight down Pauline’s spine as she
fell silent. “Oh… I’m… I’m sorry,” she spluttered out, her mind awash with ghastly
feelings.
    “And the second bit of news is that I bumped into
Dave Silvers at the funeral, and he mentioned that a month before Jim passed
away, Christian Bulmer had also died; he’d been out fishing, had one too many
and fallen overboard.”
    “Oh dear. What a shame,” Pauline said sarcastically,
then added, “Sorry if I don’t sound sincere, but how ironic is that? I used to
do all the work while he spent his time either fishing or drinking.”
    “You don’t have to apologise; by the end I think I
disliked him more than you and Gerrard did.”
    “Gerrard never forgave him for what he did to me; he
always blamed him for the miscarriage. He said one day he’d get his comeuppance.”
She looked skywards. “Perhaps he’s up there smiling.”
    “I thought that snippet of news might cheer you up.
Anyway, I’ve got to go, Austin’s just walked back in; I’ll give you a call next
week, I haven’t had a chance to ask if you’re dating anyone.”
    “That will be a long conversation; you’ll need a
bottle of wine at your side.”
    “Okay, we’ll speak soon, bye.”
    Pauline replaced the telephone and leant against the
tack room table. She inhaled deeply, but the aroma of newly cleaned saddlery
passed her by. Bulmer and Broadbent; dead within weeks of one another; now
there’s a coincidence .
     
     
    Intense pain radiated throughout Hussain’s
whole body, as he slowly regained control of his faculties. He felt
disorientated. He tried to move, but his hands and feet were securely tied, and
the tape across his mouth prevented him from speaking. He became aware that he
was sitting in the passenger seat of his car looking out over Scammonden Dam; he
could see the M62 motorway in the distance, and he knew this place well, having
been to this desolate car park many times.
    Illuminated by the car’s interior light, which had
been left on, he looked across and stared at his abductor who sat
expressionless in the driver’s seat. Panic then started to set in as he became conscious
of how difficult every breath was.
    “Breathe deep long breaths and you’ll slowly start
to feel better,” the man said in a calm voice.
    Hussain desperately tried to speak, “Mmm, mmm, mmm,”
he mumbled, his eyes filling with terror as he realised the predicament he
found himself in.
    “Concentrate on your breathing,” the man insisted,
his stare fixed on his prisoner.
    Hussain inhaled slowly; the tightness started to
ease and the breathing improved. In a moment of calm his eyes flicked up and
down