All Chapters of COUNTER MEASURES : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

There was no mail for me that morning, but that was no surprise.  There had been no mail for me in the three weeks I’d been renting that tiny second-floor suite of offices in the remote Suffolk coastal town of Oxmarket.  I closed the door of the outer eight by ten office, skirted the table and chair that might one day house a receptionist if the time came that Handful Investigations could run to such glamorous extras, and pushed open the door marked “PRIVATE.”Behind the door lay the office of the head of Handful Investigations, John Handful. Me.  And not only the head but the entire staff.  It was a bigger room than the reception office, I knew that because I’d measured it, but only a trained surveyor could have told it with the naked eye.I’m no sybarite, but I had to admit that it was pretty bleak sort of place.  The distempered walls were that delicate tint of off-grey pastel shading from off-white at

I had walked for nearly an hour past the green, after I had left the pub, down to the darkened boatyard with the stilted walkways over the river mud, then out on the raised path towards the marsh. I was at the place where the tidal river merged with the inland water mass and the slow-swaying reedbeds. It had been one of Zoë’s favourite spots. The silence was broken only when I disturbed a swan that clattered, screaming away. “Evening, John.” I spun, coiled, tense.  I gazed at the shadow. “Only me – seen a ghost?  Sorry that was a tactless thing to say.  Didn’t mean to startle you.  It’s Jason.” “That’s okay.” “Just taking the dog out.  I hear Loraine has lumbered you with the leaflets for the Wildlife Field Day.  It’s very good of you.  I was doing the group’s accounts this evening – your donation of two hundred and fifty pounds was really generous, thanks.  Prefer to say it myself than just send

Within twenty minutes of receiving my fee of seven hundred pounds from Bio-Preparations in the post, my mobile started singing with an unknown number lighting up the screen.“Hello?”“Is the fee satisfactory, Mr Handful?”“More than satisfactory, Miss Gere,” I replied.  It was in fact more than double my standard fee, but I wasn’t complaining.“Call me, Kimberley,” she said and paused for a few seconds before continuing.  “I was wondering whether I could treat you to dinner as a thank you.”“You don’t have to do that, Kimberley,” I said, politely.“I insist,” she said.  “Don’t worry, Bio-preparations are paying.”“Very well,” I agreed.  “Where and when?”She chose the only Italian restaurant in Oxmarket, Figaro’s in the main street, not far from my

WPC Softly decanted me outside my flat.  After showering, and changing into some fresh clothes, I made myself some coffee and toast.The flat had three bedrooms but I had turned one end of the smallest into an office when I had set up Handful Investigations. I sat at my desk and switched on my computer.  It slowly came to life and I checked my e-mails.  Most were the usual trash trying to sell me stuff I didn’t want or need.  It never ceased to amaze me why anyone could think that this type of direct marketing sells anything.  I deleted all of them without reading them.  In amongst the masses of junk and spam, however, was one message actually meant for me.  It was from the local Oxmarket solicitors, Hogbin, Marshall and Moruzzi, and they were willing to use me as and when I was required.Quite pleased with myself, I went into the main search engine and typed in Sir Gerard Seymour Hornby and entered in

We arrived back at number four, just in time to see the SOCOs lift Alistair Fleming’s body on to a plastic sheet.I started to look around the bedroom.  The bed was untouched, without a crease in the duvet.  Expensive men’s grooming products were lined up neatly on the oak dresser.  Towels were folded evenly on the towel rail of the en suite.Paul handed me a pair of disposable gloves and I opened the large walk-in wardrobe and stepped inside.  I touched his suits, his shirts and his trousers.  I put my hand in the pockets of his jackets and found a taxi receipt, a dry cleaning tag, a pound coin and an unopened packet of chewing gum.  There was a red and black Dunlop golf bag with clubs in one corner.  In the middle, there were racks of shoes, at least a dozen pairs, arranged in the neat rows and in the other corner in a large transparent plastic container at least a hundred different varieties of scented massage oils.