When the Wind Blows: The Slim Hardy Mystery Series #7 by Jack Benton

Author:Jack Benton [Benton, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: AMMFA Publishing

35

The afternoon had been hard. Tom, clearly aware Slim’s morning off was due to a binge of the alcohol he had maintained he couldn’t drink, pushed him to his limits, having him move a load of cut logs from one seemingly innocuous location to another a mere twenty feet away. As Tom clapped his hands together and muttered something about a better turning circle for the van, Slim sensed that Tom had been teaching him a lesson.

On his way home to his new lodging—owned by his boss, he reminded himself—he stopped by the general store and bought a calendar for next year. When he got home, he pinned it up in the kitchen and turned to the token December this year page, added as some kind of early bird marketing ploy, and put an X through yesterday’s date. Then, hooking the pen over the calendar’s top corner, he stared at today and hoped tomorrow he could add a circle instead. Giving the X a final hard glare, he brewed himself a strong coffee and retired to a living room far more comfortable than he perhaps deserved.

He was still struggling to process the events of the last twenty-four hours. He had thought of little but Ellen since he had reluctantly left her this morning to get a bus back to Trelee. They had parted on good terms, with Ellen agreeing that Slim could visit again when he wished. Aware of how she was likely earning the money to buy her extensive art supplies, he had left her as much as he could spare, making hollow promises of more in the hope of keeping her away from the streets.

He had more questions too, but for now, gaining her trust and ensuring her safety was enough.

He was just thinking about going to bed when his phone buzzed.

‘Don,’ Slim said, answering the call. ‘Have you found something for me?’

‘Frank Davis,’ Don said. ‘The pathologist? I’ve tracked him down. He’s not all that far away, believe it or not. He’s living in a guesthouse in St. Ives.’

Slim pictured a map in his head, then frowned. ‘That’s an hour’s drive southwest. What’s he doing living there?’

‘Well, according to my sources, he lost his home in a civil settlement, and since then has been living in the guesthouse year-round. It’s owned—as far as I can see—by a former colleague of Frank’s, but, get this. His rent is paid directly to the owner out of his pension payments. It seems Mr. Davis has trouble looking after money.’

‘Gambling?’

‘Could be. I don’t know. My guess is that if you paid him a visit, a little bribe would make him talk.’

Slim noted down the details then hung up. It was a good lead, but one he wasn’t sure would be of much benefit now that he had found Ellen. Plus, he had given all his spare cash to the girl, and had no way to get more. He had come to Trelee with his account empty, his only possessions the clothes on his back.

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