Take A Thousand Cuts by Teresa Hunter

Take A Thousand Cuts by Teresa Hunter

Author:Teresa Hunter [Hunter, Teresa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-06-03T23:00:00+00:00


PITCHER SWUNG the car out of the lane, turned left, and pulled up a few minutes later outside the Two Brewers pub.

“I need something to eat,” he said, switching off the engine and getting out. They followed him inside. A log fire burned for atmosphere in “ye oldie English inglenook”.

Weird, Julia thought, in the middle of summer.

Pitcher went straight to the bar. “Serving food?” he asked the landlady, who handed him a menu.

“I'll have a braised shoulder of lamb, dauphinoise potatoes, tenderstem broccoli, rosemary gravy – and a pint.”

Julia couldn’t help noticing it was the most expensive item on the menu.

“Just a coffee for me,” she said, passing the menu to Cody, who ordered burger, chips and a coke. Julia paid for them all. They took their drinks to a table in the corner.

“What’s with this Whittingdale Trust then?” Pitcher began. “How come it’s on your radar?”

Julia scratched her ear. “You could call it a coincidence. I’d go further. I’d say it’s uncanny – downright creepy. It’s why we wanted to see you. A few months ago, a set of accounts arrived anonymously in the post. It was just after Adam Lee was found. I was up to my eyes with the financial crisis. So I asked Cody to take a look. Anonymous packages are ten-a-penny in our line. If people suspect something but don't know what to do, they send stuff to us. It usually turns out to be nothing. So with everything collapsing around us – ”she looked at Cody. “Why don’t you take it from here?”

“I found it hard to get anywhere at first. After hours in the Guildhall Library, I discovered the documents related to the Whittingdale Trust. I was still struggling to work out what they meant when Julia put me in touch with a forensic accountant. He spent days pouring over the accounts and reckons not only don’t they add up – they’re £1 million out.”

“Fraud?” Pitcher sucked the froth off his pint. “Certainly looks that way.”

“Some £2 billion goes missing each year from charities doesn’t it?”

“My, my, Chief Inspector. You surprise me,” Julia raised her eyebrows.

“Crime is my speciality. Little’s ever recovered. Go on Cody.”

“We needed more. So, I kept digging. Next thing, the Treasurer’s gone missing.”

“Not another disappearance,” Pitcher banged his forehead with the stub of his right palm.

“Fraid so. Have you identified this body?”

“No, but I wouldn’t jump to any conclusions. My guess is your Treasurer hot-tailed it to Panama, and is necking glasses of Martini in the sun. What is this trust anyway, this Whittingdale Trust?”

“Very old City of London charity. Set up in Shakespeare’s day to...”

“The Chief Inspector doesn’t need a history lesson, Cody,” Julia interrupted.

“Sorry,” he grinned sheepishly. “Well, today it owns most of London’s green belt, plus huge chunks of Epping forest and other land around the capital.”

“Ripe for the pickings. A lost million sounds like small change.”

“And small time crook,” Julia agreed. “Still theft from a charity – stealing from society’s most vulnerable. What d’you want us to do?”

“Keep digging for the time being.



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