Cherringham--The Vanishing Tourist

Contents
  1. Cover
  2. Cherringham — A Cosy Crime Series
  3. About the Book
  4. The Authors
  5. Main Characters
  6. The Vanishing Tourist
  7. Copyright
  8. 1. A Tour of Cherringham
  9. 2. The Departed
  10. 3. Fishing
  11. 4. The Missing American
  12. 5. Now You See Him …
  13. 6. The Way out of the Village
  14. 7. Barrows Lane
  15. 8. Questions in the Cottage
  16. 9. Couchsurfing
  17. 10. The Day O’Connor Vanished
  18. 11. Chopping Wood
  19. 12. The End of the Lane
  20. 13. Family Connections
  21. 14. The Lone Soldier
  22. 15. A Tale of Two Warriors
  23. 16. Handling The Truth
  24. Next episode
Cherringham — A Cosy Crime Series

“Cherringham — A Cosy Crime Series” is a series made up of self-contained stories. A new episode is released each month. The series is published in English as well as in German, and is only available in e-book form.

About the Book

When an American tourist goes missing in Cherringham, the local police don't see reason for concern — people often wander away from such tours. But when that tourist's sister shows up from New York, desperately looking for answers, Jack and Sarah become convinced there's more to the disappearance than meets the eye. Soon, they are entangled in a mystery with a secret history of betrayal, sacrifice, dishonour … and death.

The Authors

Matthew Costello
(US-based) is the author of a number of successful novels, including
Vacation
(2011),
Home
(2014) and
Beneath Still Waters
(1989), which was adapted by Lionsgate as a major motion picture. He has written for The Disney Channel, BBC, SyFy and has also designed dozens of bestselling games including the critically acclaimed
The 7th Guest
,
Doom 3
,
Rage
and
Pirates of the Caribbean
.

Neil Richards
has worked as a producer and writer in TV and film, creating scripts for BBC, Disney, and Channel 4, and earning numerous Bafta nominations along the way. He’s also written script and story for over 20 video games including
The Da Vinci Code
and
Starship Titanic
, co-written with Douglas Adams, and consults around the world on digital storytelling.
His writing partnership with NYC-based Matt Costello goes back to the late 90’s and the two have written many hours of TV together.
Cherringham
is their first crime fiction as co-writers.

Main Characters

Jack Brennan
is a former NYPD homicide detective who lost his wife a year ago. Being retired, all he wants is peace and quiet. Which is what he hopes to find in the quiet town of Cherringham, UK. Living on a canal boat, he enjoys his solitude. But soon enough he discovers that something is missing — the challenge of solving crimes. Surprisingly, Cherringham can help him with that.

Sarah Edwards
is a web designer who was living in London with her husband and two kids. Two years ago, he ran off with his sexy American boss, and Sarah’s world fell apart. With her children she moved back to her home town, laid-back Cherringham. But the small town atmosphere is killing her all over again — nothing ever happens. At least, that’s what she thinks until Jack enters her life and changes it for good or worse …

Matthew Costello
Neil Richards

CHERRINGHAM

A COSY CRIME SERIES

The Vanishing Tourist

BASTEI ENTERTAINMENT

Digital original edition

Bastei Entertainment is an imprint of Bastei Lübbe AG

Copyright © 2015 by Bastei Lübbe AG, Schanzenstraße 6-20, 51063 Cologne, Germany

Written by Matthew Costello and Neil Richards

Edited by Victoria Pepe

Project management: Kathrin Kummer

Cover illustration © shutterstock: Buslik | Andromed | Ansis Klucis | Artur Marfin | Alexlukin

Cover design: Jeannine Schmelzer

E-book production: Urban
SatzKonzept
, Düsseldorf

ISBN 978-3-7325-0850-1

www.bastei-entertainment.com

1. A Tour of Cherringham

Will Goodchild pulled out his pocket watch, handed down from his father who had never tired of telling him that he wore that watch on D-Day, hitting Gold Beach, leading his men in the gallant struggle of World War II.

It was perhaps Will’s most prized possession, and outside of an occasional adjustment by an old-school watch repair shop in Oxford, it told time perfectly, even chiming the hour.

Now — standing in the grassy area in the village centre that held three donated benches and the medieval stocks that — he noted — seemed to be weathering away more each day — he saw that it was 11 a.m.

And the bus was late.

Almost as he had that thought, a big white coach, looking barely able to manage the narrow high street of Cherringham, lumbered slowly into view as if the driver was afraid he'd sideswipe the shops that lined each side.

The few villagers out for a walk stopped on the pavement to observe the out-of-place behemoth as it rolled into view.

Will straightened up. He planted a welcoming smile on his face —
all part of the show
, he thought — as the bus came close to the little grassy square and then turned into the parking area where half of it would jut out into the street.

It would be an eye sore for the next few hours!

As he walked over to the door, the coach’s engine was killed, and with a great whoosh the front door popped open.

Will watched the portly driver scramble out, blinking in the bright spring sunlight. A too-small cap perched atop his round head, matched by an equally round body.

Not a driver who Will knew.

Will took a step forward.

“Hel-lo,” he said. “Professor Will Goodchild. Your guide.”

The man nodded as if that information bordered on the irrelevant. Then the driver gestured at the steps that led into the bus.

“Full load, professor … and
here they come
.”

Will stood back as the passengers, who had travelled all the way from London for a full-day tour of the Cotswolds, stepped out onto the normally quiet streets of Cherringham.

*

Will had the crowd circled around him as best he could.

Some people held up phones, even looking away from Will as he spoke, taking pictures of the village’s buildings as if it was a theme park — and even worse, selfies.

Will hated selfies.

And the driver?

Smoking a cigarette while chatting on his phone, standing well away from the group.

“Welcome to Cherringham,” Will said, speaking as loudly as he could. “Today you will see some of the spots that make this village the historic and beautiful place that it is. If you have any questions …”

It was hard not to be distracted by the
distracted
tourists, many of whom didn't seem to be paying any attention at all.

Why on earth did they take this tour?

Anyway
— Will pressed on.

He explained that the stocks before their eyes were indeed genuine, centuries old and used for everything from tax evaders and philanderers to suspected witches — including the local Mabb sisters, each of whom spent some time imprisoned in them.

“We will shortly be walking over to St. James Church, which dates from the twelfth century. But first, please follow me as we visit perhaps the most historic sight in the whole village.”

As Will began to lead his gaggle of tourists, he looked over to the driver, expecting him to follow — bringing up the rear as was often required on these day tours.

But the driver just nodded and held his phone up.

“Got a bit of business to attend to, prof.”

The driver then nodded and grinned to his charges as they passed.

“Have a good tour, folks!”

Though Will usually didn't approve of unspoken judgements of others, he rolled his eyes as he passed the rotund driver.

He'd be sure to tell the owner of the tour company that protocol had been violated! While he was at it he might request a little more civility from the drivers as well.

Prof indeed!

Will started down the high street, passing shops, and even a few people hitting the pub early, watching the geese-like line of people following behind like an ill-prepared invasion force.

Just past the village hall, Will stopped at a towering stone cross that loomed over the group, smack in the centre of the old market square.

The tourists immediately began taking pictures, while Will pointed to a metal plaque just below the cross.

“This plaque commemorates the Battle of Cherringham, during the English Civil War. The year — 1646.”

He then did his best to fire the imagination of the sun-glassed tourists.

“Imagine — if you will — the Parliamentary army marching right this way, while before them, they face a brave but overwhelmed assembly of Royalists. You can almost hear the clash of swords! And at this very spot where you are standing, right here and all around you, the streets turned red with blood.”

He looked down at the plaque — Will himself could easily picture the scene …

The screams. The mayhem.

“It was reported that this ‘river of blood was so deep that the ducks could bathe in it!”

A woman at the back raised her hand.

“Yes, madam?”

“When do we get to visit Huffington's for tea? I've read on Trip Advisor that they bake the absolute best …”

Will felt that his warm, fabricated smile might crack and fall to pieces.

Tea and biscuits already?
And we’ve only just begun this supposedly historical tour?

Amazingly, he was able to retain his smile.

“Yes, madam, we shall terminate the tour at the famed Huffington's before you board the bus for your next stop.”

And whatever poor fool must give them a tour there.

“But for now, shall we press on? To St. James Church.”

*

Will had asked all the tourists to be as quiet as possible once inside the church.

Though he saw that caution had no effect on a few who chatted away, taking snaps and selfies, as though they were in a shopping mall.

He stood before a truly giant painting of the crucified Saviour.

“This painting,” he said quietly, "was a gift of the Mogdon family, painted by the famous contemporary of Rubens, Gaspar de Crayer.”

He turned and looked at the painting, easily twice his height in length and width. “You will not find a finer sample of such an altar work even in the great cathedrals of Gloucester or Worcester.”

A moment to let the tourists continue taking pictures before he was ready to move onto what was for him the most special spot in the church, especially given his background as an historian.

He noted that some people at last did seem held by his words.

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