Come Death and High Water

Bello:

hidden talent rediscovered

Bello is a digital only imprint of Pan Macmillan, established to breathe life into previously published classic books.

At Bello we believe in the timeless power of the imagination, of good story, narrative and entertainment and we want to use digital technology to ensure that many more readers can enjoy these books into the future.

We publish in ebook and Print on Demand formats to bring these wonderful books to new audiences.

www.panmacmillan.co.uk/bello

Contents

• Ann Cleeves
• Chapter One
• Chapter Two
• Chapter Three
• Chapter Four
• Chapter Five
• Chapter Six
• Chapter Seven
• Chapter Eight
• Chapter Nine
• Chapter Ten
• Chapter Eleven
• Chapter Twelve
• Chapter Thirteen
• Chapter Fourteen
• Chapter Fifteen
• Chapter Sixteen
• Chapter Seventeen

Ann Cleeves

Come Death and High Water

Ann Cleeves is the author behind ITV’s VERA and BBC One’s SHETLAND. She has written over twenty-five novels, and is the creator of detectives Vera Stanhope and Jimmy Perez – characters loved both on screen and in print. Her books have now sold over one million copies worldwide.

Ann worked as a probation officer, bird observatory cook and auxiliary coastguard before she started writing. She is a member of ‘Murder Squad’, working with other British northern writers to promote crime fiction. In 2006 Ann was awarded the Duncan Lawrie Dagger (CWA Gold Dagger) for Best Crime Novel, for Raven Black, the first book in her Shetland series. In 2012 she was inducted into the CWA Crime Thriller Awards Hall of Fame. Ann lives in North Tyneside.

Chapter One

Charlie Todd, hidden behind black leather and helmet, began the steep descent to the shore. He felt like Mr. Toad at the start of his wild, outrageous adventure, and bent low over the handlebars of his motorcycle. It was easier to imagine, when he was going downhill, that he was riding a more powerful machine, and Charlie Todd was a great believer in the imagination. Imagination, after all, had made him a fortune. He looked down over the river. The mud was turned into golden sand by the September afternoon sun, and the island, tear-drop shaped at the mouth of the estuary, was deceptively clear. It looked very close. He could see the Land Rover moving slowly over the rocks at the south end. John would be on his way to collect the weekend guests. Charlie was not looking forward to the committee meeting, but as he did not like to cause disappointment, he quickly put all thought of it from his mind. The lane was narrow, the typical Devon hedges a tangle of bramble and hawthorn, and for a while he was forced to concentrate on the road. There was no need to hurry because John would wait for him, but he did not want to cause the others too much inconvenience. Not today. He drove round a sharp bend, through a small, overgrown wood, and once more the estuary was spread before him. He had bought the island nearly five years before, and since then had spent every summer there. He supposed that he should feel sad at the prospect of leaving it behind, but Charlie Todd never felt regret. He looked forward with commitment and passion and enjoyment to his new venture, was totally immersed in his new enthusiasm. But because he was a great believer in imagination, it did occur to him that the others might be a little sad that the island was to be sold.