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Back Scared to Live Save as PDF
Chapters (44)
  1. Dedication
  2. Chapter One
  3. Chapter Two
  4. Chapter Three
  5. Chapter Four
  6. Chapter Five
  7. Chapter Six
  8. Chapter Seven
  9. Chapter Eight
  10. Chapter Nine
  11. Chapter Ten
  12. Chapter Eleven
  13. Chapter Twelve
  14. Chapter Thirteen
  15. Chapter Fourteen
  16. Chapter Fifteen
  17. Chapter Sixteen
  18. Chapter Seventeen
  19. Chapter Eighteen
  20. Chapter Nineteen
  21. Chapter Twenty
  22. Chapter Twenty-One
  23. Chapter Twenty-Two
  24. Chapter Twenty-Three
  25. Chapter Twenty-Four
  26. Chapter Twenty-Five
  27. Chapter Twenty-Six
  28. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  29. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  30. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  31. Chapter Thirty
  32. Chapter Thirty-One
  33. Chapter Thirty-Two
  34. Chapter Thirty-Three
  35. Chapter Thirty-Four
  36. Chapter Thirty-Five
  37. Chapter Thirty-Six
  38. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  39. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  40. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  41. Chapter Forty
  42. About the Author
  43. Also by Stephen Booth
  44. About the Publisher

Ken Bruce was announcing the ten o’clock news bulletin. Was it so late already? Bernie knew he ought to get on – he’d already lost enough time this morning, with having so many special deliveries to make and getting stuck behind the tractor that overtook him every time he stopped. Miss Shepherd was probably out doing her shopping in Matlock, wasn’t she? Monday morning was a good time to go to the supermarket. Nice and quiet. She’d just forgotten to empty the post from her box for once. She’d do it when she got back from the shops.

Bernie pushed his card through the flap, put the package back behind the van seat, then reversed into the road and drove on. He’d missed the news headlines, but Bruce was playing a song he remembered from the sixties – the New Seekers, ‘Now the Carnival is Over’. Bernie was singing quietly to himself as he headed back through Foxlow.

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Detective Constable Ben Cooper opened his fridge door, then closed it again quickly when he caught the smell. Another thirty seconds of breathing that in, and he’d lose his appetite for breakfast. He had a brief after-image of something nasty wrapped in plastic, caught by the interior light like an exhibit at a crime scene, sordid and decomposing, its DNA degrading beyond use.

‘Well, do you want me to call in and see the solicitor again tomorrow morning?’ he said into his mobile phone. ‘I can manage that, if you like, Matt. But I’m not sure it’ll do any good.’

‘He wants a kick up the pants, that’s what’ll do him some good. Maybe I ought to go in and see him myself. What do you reckon? I’ll go straight into his office when I’ve finished the muck spreading tomorrow.’

Cooper smiled at the thought of his brother bursting into the offices of Ballard and Price, his overalls covered in slurry. Matt could be a bit intimidating at the best of times, especially in an enclosed space. In his present mood, the solicitors’ receptionist would probably call the police to have him removed.

‘It wouldn’t help, you know.’

Matt sighed in frustration. ‘Bloody pen pushers and bureaucrats. They seem to spend their time making life difficult for everyone else.’

‘I suppose Mr Ballard has a job to do, like the rest of us.’

‘Oh, yeah. He takes a lot longer about it, that’s all.’