Appetite for Evil by Len Maynard

Author:Len Maynard [Maynard, Len]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sharpe Books
Published: 2020-08-09T22:00:00+00:00

Myra Banks telephoned him as he was starting to enjoy a quiet evening, puffing on one of his irregular pipes and listening through headphones to Mantovani playing on the radiogram. Annie was watching some inane drivel on the television and Eric was up in his room, practicing his guitar. With Joan staying over at Avril’s and Rosie still at the cinema, the house was pleasantly peaceful.

“Sorry to disturb you at home, sir, but I’ve just got back from the lab and I thought you’d want to know the results of the tests.”

Jack glanced at his watch. “Sorry, Myra, I didn’t mean for you to be so late back.”

“Actually, sir, you did me a favour. Mum’s a terrible cook and tonight she did rissoles. When I didn’t come in at my usual time she left them in the oven to keep warm. I’ve just tried them and they’ve dried out. They’re now the size of walnuts and twice as hard, so it’s fish and chips for me this evening.”

Jack smiled to himself. “The results, Myra?” he prompted.

“Yes, of course. One was an anti-histamine, one was for constipation and the last one was plain old aspirin.”

“So, no sleeping pills?”

“Well, the anti-histamine can make you drowsy and they recommend you don’t operate heavy machinery when taking them, but there was nothing there to use as a Mickey Finn.”

“Well, thanks for letting me know, Myra. Enjoy your cod and chips.”

“Not me, sir. I’m a rock eel type of girl.”

“Good night, Myra. See you in the morning.”

“Night, sir.”

“Who was that?” Annie said when he came back to the sitting room.

“Work. Nothing to worry about.”

“They never let you rest, do they?”

“Such is life,” he said, and placed the headphones over his ears to drown out the annoying voice of the quizmaster on the television programme Annie was watching.

A few moments later she slipped out of her chair, switched the television off and went across to him, lifting the headphones from his head.

“How about cocoa and an early night.”

“I’m not tired.”

She smiled at him. “Strangely enough, neither am I.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re a wicked temptress?”

“I think you’ve mentioned it once or twice.” She took his hands and hauled him out of his easy chair.

“Skip the cocoa,” he said, switched off the radiogram and let her lead him out of the room and up the stairs.

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