Pix (Volume Book 24) (Harpur & Iles Mysteries) Read Free Page B

What
were
his damn instructions and wishes? How far beyond them? ‘Get into the house and –’ And then? Hilaire Wilfrid Chandor seemed to say people on his staff had mistaken what he wanted. True? Or just a ploy, a tease? What
had
he wanted? How could they mistake it? Did he employ idiots, drunks, addicts? Or had he talked so vague to them that he knew they’d go miles out of order once they started?
    Always there were firms like Chandor’s longing to get right in on the dealing scene locally – Brits, Albanians, Turks, all sorts. * Did Chandor think he could act sweet now, but actually frighten and cow Manse into making a place for him?
I know where you live, and where your kids go at some weekends and school breaks, and where you do the handover, and where your safes are, and what your women are called – first and second names – and where your beloved pix hang, hung. So, how about some pleasant cooperation?
Mansefelt nearly certain Chandor had Lowri’s surname right – Billsborough, or it could be Nettlethwaite or Margerison, but definitely something not at all Welsh. Was the offer to clean up the rectory as to the body, and restore what could be restored, then bring a choice of takeaways with additionals for Manse and the children, meant to settle Shale and make him forgiving and helpful to Chandor’s outfit in the commercial sector? So many of them new firms eyed up this city and envied the trade cooperation between Manse and Ralphy Ember. They struggled to be part of it. They would try all sorts of dodges and pressures. They’d heard of the happy, sensible arrangement with Assistant Chief Constable (Operations) Desmond Iles, and wanted to be part of this, too. That slob Hilaire might be saying,
Here’s what we’re able to do to you and yours, Manse, whenever we like, so get intelligent and matey, mate. We turn kindly now, and, oh! big apologies for the deado, but you’ll understand from this that we can also get really bad if you force us to it, can’t we, Manse?
Even if Chandor put them Pre-Raphaelites etcetera back undamaged, that would still be the message. And no need of a key. The rectory didn’t have no alarms. He would not want police all through his home in response and doing an ogle, would he?
    Only Sybil and the children came to Severalponds for the transfers, never the jockey or schools inspector or whatever he was she lived with. They also had a Jaguar. That annoyed Shale. It was older than his and not top of the range, but he still felt irritated. For privacy, a sliding glass partition divided the front from the back of Manse’s, but he had hardly ever closed it, even when Denzil was alive and chauffeuring. It would of seemed a bit majestic, and Shale detested pomp. Most likely Sybil said to this partner they better have a Jag because Manse owned one, and she didn’t want to go down to a Ford or Skoda, because of appearance. Pride. If they’d bought something else he might of offered to pay off the hire purchase for them, but not when they offered deliberate disrespect and rivalry by picking a Jag. Total anger he did avoid. Manse almost always tried to understand Sybil. He told himselfshe might of chosen the Jaguar so the children would not feel the change too strong and sudden of being with her after him and vice versa, like going into a pressure chamber when leaving a wrecked submarine. Now and then he thought he
would
do the hire purchase for them, regardless. Manse hated petty vindictiveness. Although living in Wales might be quite all right really, Shale considered he should be very kindly to her to make up for it.
    Sybil pulled into the next car-park space just after he arrived, the children grinning and making faces at him through the side window. One thing Shale favoured as much as art was fatherliness. He believed he had a flair for this. Matilda and Laurent jumped from the car and ran together ahead towards the