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Mydworth Mysteries - A Deadly Match

E-BookEPUB0 - No protectionE-Book
147 Seiten
Englisch
Bastei Entertainmenterschienen am30.01.20231. Aufl. 2023
From the authors of the best-selling series CHERRINGHAM

When heart-throb American tennis coach Todd Winters careens off the road in his speeding car one night and plunges in the river, it seems like a tragic accident. But Winters was a young man with many dangerous secrets, and Harry and Kat discover there's no shortage of people who wanted him out of the picture. Soon they discover clear evidence: the accident was no accident at all. And now Harry and Kat had best be careful too... even in the genteel world of the Mydworth Lawn Tennis Club, a desperate murderer could be ready to kill again.

Co-authors Neil Richards (based in the UK) and Matthew Costello (based in the US), have been writing together since the mid-90s, creating innovative content and working on major projects for the BBC, Disney Channel, Sony, ABC, Eidos, and Nintendo to name but a few. Their transatlantic collaboration has underpinned scores of TV drama scripts, computer games, radio shows, and the best-selling mystery series Cherringham. Their latest series project is called Mydworth Mysteries.mehr

Produkt

KlappentextFrom the authors of the best-selling series CHERRINGHAM

When heart-throb American tennis coach Todd Winters careens off the road in his speeding car one night and plunges in the river, it seems like a tragic accident. But Winters was a young man with many dangerous secrets, and Harry and Kat discover there's no shortage of people who wanted him out of the picture. Soon they discover clear evidence: the accident was no accident at all. And now Harry and Kat had best be careful too... even in the genteel world of the Mydworth Lawn Tennis Club, a desperate murderer could be ready to kill again.

Co-authors Neil Richards (based in the UK) and Matthew Costello (based in the US), have been writing together since the mid-90s, creating innovative content and working on major projects for the BBC, Disney Channel, Sony, ABC, Eidos, and Nintendo to name but a few. Their transatlantic collaboration has underpinned scores of TV drama scripts, computer games, radio shows, and the best-selling mystery series Cherringham. Their latest series project is called Mydworth Mysteries.
Details
Weitere ISBN/GTIN9783751715577
ProduktartE-Book
EinbandartE-Book
FormatEPUB
Format Hinweis0 - No protection
FormatFormat mit automatischem Seitenumbruch (reflowable)
Erscheinungsjahr2023
Erscheinungsdatum30.01.2023
Auflage1. Aufl. 2023
ReiheA Cosy Historical Mystery Series
Reihen-Nr.13
Seiten147 Seiten
SpracheEnglisch
Dateigrösse1989 Kbytes
Artikel-Nr.9899700
Rubriken
Genre9200

Inhalt/Kritik

Leseprobe

1. A Roman Road
   


Todd Winters slipped quietly out of the side door of the house - more of a mansion in his estimation - and hurried to his Austin 7, tucked away under the trees on the drive. A bright red that made the car look speedy and bold.

A slick little British beauty like this? Not a car he would have ever seen back in the States. No - not even in wealthy and stuck-up Newport with its summer set who filled the beach-front homes.

He might have preferred if it was a convertible, but having suffered through one long and bleak English fall and winter, the less flashy hardtop made a lot more sense, even on this summer night.

And he thought - as he popped the door and slid in - it made it harder for anyone to see just who he might be driving around with.

Isn´t there some line somewhere about discretion... valour?

Well, he had to admit, he was perhaps not exactly discreet.

But whatever the hell valour was, he imagined he had more than enough for this genteel part of the world.

He started the car up, the engine turning over a tad reluctantly then chugging into life. Into first gear, to pull away from the house, down the gravel driveway, out to the road that ran through the little village of Amblesham.

Headlights not on just yet - best wait until he was down the road a ways.

Don´t want any nosy neighbours peeking out of their windows, now, do we? he thought.

Though it had been a warm day, the night had grown chilly, even damp from dew. He kept the window up.

He thought - certainly not for the first time - how fortunate that, a year ago, he´d chosen to come here from the good old U S of A.

New place, new faces, new opportunities.

It certainly had worked out that way. Landing a plum position at the Mydworth Lawn Tennis Club as the resident pro giving lessons - and now with a nice little venture on the side selling kit and rackets after only a year.

And the other benefits that went with the position of coach?

Even better.

He hit the lane, flicked the headlights on and headed out of the village towards Mydworth and home; narrow lane, trees clustered tight above, as if eager to make sure no light of any kind hit the road.

It had taken him a while to learn how to manage the driving here - the wrong side of the road, tricky for sure. Then - these crazy narrow lanes where two cars had to joust for space that could barely accommodate one.

And just ahead now...

One of those crazy underpasses where you had to hope there wasn´t a truck barrelling right your way.

Ah, lorry, he reminded himself, coming through the brick bridge under the railway safely, the road deserted. The lingo was just different enough here to make things interesting.

Required pretty risky driving. But now? He had all that under his belt.

He checked his watch: nine o´clock.

Mydworth in ten - plenty of time to get back to his little apartment, wash, brush up - then walk down to the Eagle by the river, grab a warm English pint and check out the pub garden to see if any of the crowd were out having fun.

Because havin´ fun was the name of the game, always had been.

He followed the winding curve of this country lane, past farms and cloistered estates until - all of a sudden - the vista opened up, lit by a soft half-moon in the misty sky.

The trees were now replaced by a literal wall of hedges on either side. Apparently put there, so he was told, to mark off property boundaries in the olden days .

But now he hit a long straight stretch of road that he loved. A so-called Roman road, built originally - the locals enjoyed telling him - by the Roman invaders who had figured that the simplest and fastest way between two points was, of course, a straight line.

Imagine that! Roman soldiers right here on this very road! Maybe riding in chariots just like that Ben Hur movie he´d seen in Brighton with...

Hmm, now which of my Mydworth sweethearts did I see that movie with? Forget!

Anyways - pretty impressive road.

He especially loved this stretch because it was long, going up and down gentle sloping hills, but straight as the proverbial arrow, where he could let his Austin 7 open up.

Like now.

He crunched the gears up to third quickly, the engine noise now not so much a roar, more an angry whine - so close in this small car - full, as if eager to really begin speeding.

Could use a fourth gear, he thought.

Maybe in the works soon for the 7, he´d read in Motor Age Magazine.

And now, with the road all to himself, this time of night? He pushed the car as fast as he could, his headlights carving out the path ahead.

*

In minutes he was doing a bracing fifty miles an hour, the needle pretty much at its limit on the right side of the dial.

Two hands on the wheel. Straight road, all right - but still, one never knew about a stray rock or branch. Best to keep eyes wide open, especially when tearing along at speed.

That speed, this intensity? Thrilling.

More than any tennis match he´d ever played.

Not a bad sport, tennis, he thought. But there are so many others...

He also knew that at the end of this stretch of Roman road there was a wicked curve. First time he´d hit it, few months back... it had been a bit of a near thing.

So... slowing down there... absolutely necessary.

But not too much; just enough to take that curve feeling the wheels push to the right. In some ways, it was the best part of this drive, before he hit the sleepy meandering roads and byways closer to Mydworth.

In his rear-view mirror, he saw a flash of light in the distance. And then another one - and, for a second, he thought a car had joined the road behind him.

But the light disappeared.

He was all on his own.

In seconds, he saw the curve in the headlights ahead, right where the narrow bridge crossed the river. He downshifted hard, slowing just enough - he thought - for that curve and crossing the river.

But what happened next...

Happened fast.

*

Just where the curve began, signalling the end of the straightaway, Todd steered the Austin left, the car responding so well.

All under control, he thought, the tyres gripping well.

But then, just before the bridge-

Headlights. Another car, turning into the road from the left, and now coming right at him!

He had a quick jumble of thoughts: How come he didn´t notice the car´s lights before? And what the hell is the idiot doing coming out of nowhere?

And now aiming right at him!

The bright headlights - close together, like two brilliant eyes - were blinding him.

He responded as fast as his reflexes allowed, sharply steering his car over to the right.

He was going to have to drive on the wrong damn side of the road to get past this idiot!

But was there room for the two cars to pass? Not that he could see.

He grappled to hold the steering wheel steady as he felt the Austin´s right side wheels drift off the road and fight for traction in the dirt.

The other car´s lights now filled his vision - there was no way past, they were going to hit head on!

He pulled the wheel even more to the right, shut his eyes instinctively, bracing for the smash, this had to be the end - but then he felt a bump.

The other car had passed! With just a scrape. Nothing hard. Just a bit of a sideswipe.

But - wait - this wasn´t over! He´d left the road, the car now bucking and jarring on the rough ground, the river somewhere ahead.

He gripped the wheel tighter and slammed his foot hard on the brakes.

But the Austin´s brakes - never much use even on a dry road - were no match for the overgrown grasses by the river, wet with evening dew.

A tree rose up in his lights and he flew past, missing it by what must have been mere inches.

And now his car was - in this slippery slide, hitting the holes and hummocks of the shore of the riverbank - out of control.

*

Todd felt the car hit the water, then begin a quick slide under the surface.

Until - totally submerged - he saw the headlights illuminating the mud and murk.

He could still breathe; there was air enough.

For now.

He told himself not to panic. Just have to get out of the car, shoot to the surface.

Then find out what drunken idiot made this happen!

But then the headlights went out.

And in the darkness, alone, he realised that muddy water was already filling the cramped passenger cabin of the Austin 7.

Already over his waist.

Already rising to his chest.

His chin.

His thoughts went back and forth, like a tennis ball in a life-or-death match.

Need to...
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