A Promise to Doreen

By Robert A.V. Jacobs

Recovering from a heart attack, Larry is being overprotected by his colleagues, which in itself is providing more stress than he needs, so he decides to take some time out with a visit to Gregory’s café.

A conversation overheard in the café attracts Larry’s attention, and becomes more intriguing when a day later he witnesses the murder of the principle speaker. On the spur of the moment as he kneels beside the dying girl he makes a promise. He promises to find the murderer, whatever it costs. It is a promise that he will find has a much higher price than he would willingly pay.

An imposter in MI6, murder, embezzlement, and terrorism, are just four of the hazards that he has to face, as he struggles with the bizarre, in the form of an almost identical twin to himself.

Several attempts on Larry’s life, when his ‘twin’ is in the vicinity raises the question of whether those attempts are really meant for him, or are they actually meant for the ‘twin’?

When Margaret, Larry’s adopted daughter, fails to return from assignment, Larry fears the worst, and thus begins a race against time to ensure that those fears are not realised.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert A.V. Jacobs
• Release date: Apr 14, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370929962

Book preview

Dexxman

When the body of the British Home Secretary’s son is found in an alleyway where he had been battered to death, Larry Dexxman, a seventy-five year old private detective is thrown into the middle of a political minefield that could easily cost him his life.

His only protection is Sally, a tiny Shih-tsu/Yorkshire terrier cross, Penny his twenty-four-year-old assistant and his own combat experience gained in the armed forces fifty years ago.

Narrowly surviving several attempts on his life, Larry must try to protect those around him while, at the same time, keeping his promise to the murdered boy’s girlfriend that he would find out who was responsible and see that they are brought to justice.

When the Director General of MI6 is murdered, his daughter Hayley fears for her own safety, and turns to Larry and Penny as the only people that she can trust.

Worried that the situation might be terrorist related, the Home Secretary orders his own daughter, Denise, placed under protection as a precaution, but Larry soon realises that it is not enough, and if he can’t remove her from danger she could easily be next

As Larry probes deeper into the conspiracy, he is placed under police protection himself. But he still must find a way to keep Denise safe, even if he has to kidnap her, without at the same time, alerting Counter Terrorism Command or his own bodyguard to his plans.

The Disappearance of Natalie Firth

When all the bodies have been filed away, and the killer of the Home Secretary’s son apprehended, Larry must cope with being inundated with the request for work, having become a household name and a knight of the realm. But then unaccountably he starts having dreams...

Harry, the eight year old son of Malcolm and Natalie Firth, engages Larry Dexxman to find his mother, but he has no idea of the can of worms that he is about to open. Larry is perplexed as he realises that though his dreams, he knew that Harry would be coming.

His wife Penny, Neil and Denise his two new assistants, and Sally, a tiny shih-tsu/Yorkshire terrier cross, embark on a mission to find her. With the help of MI6 they delve into the murky depths of Malcolm’s life and are horrified to learn that he has links with Vincente Vasquez, a known villain, suspected of drug smuggling and murder.

When Special Branch shows an interest in the case, Larry finds that he has unwittingly become embroiled in an ongoing espionage investigation, which seems to be inexorably linked to Natalie’s disappearance.

Whether Natalie is alive or dead is a moot point, when keeping Harry, his friends, and himself alive becomes the order of the day

Time to Die

It all started when Larry Dexxman received a letter more than twenty years late. It cast doubt upon the official verdict of accidental death on two employees of a legal company, one of which was Larry’s former wife. Several attempts on Larry’s life, when there is no discernible reason for them, drag him ever further into a web of lies and deceit.

It seems to involve espionage, and is believed to be centred on the law firm of Parkes and Parkes, until links back to a former adversary are found. All of the main suspects are already dead, so his attention is inexorably drawn back to the law firm.

The action moves into one of the many deserted tunnels in London, where a shocking scenario unfolds, leaving Larry and his friends embittered, stunned and confused.

Finally things come to a head, when Larry and his friends are trapped by two people consumed with the desire to see them dead in the slowest and most painful way possible. Now, the only question that he has left to answer is whether or not now will actually be his ‘time to die’ after all.

Foreword

I was recovering from a heart attack, some surgery and having a couple of stents fitted, and I was as good as new. Well I thought I was, but everyone else thought I was on my last legs.

It was an accumulation of events that had brought about that collapse, starting with the murder of the Home Secretary’s son, through the disappearance of Natalie Firth, and culminating in the attempt on my life by the late Vincente Vasquez’s two daughters. Had it not been for Harry, my adopted nine year old son, those two ladies might just have succeeded.

Prior to these events, my life as a PI was pretty uneventful, with the emphasis on divorces and lost kids. It didn’t pay all that much, but it did keep the wolf from the door and enabled me to save just enough to buy the building that housed my present offices.

I thought things would settle down after I married Penny, but then came the Vasquez girls, we adopted Harry, who had lost both his mother and his father, and Margaret who had been taken into care because of a philandering mother.

As I recovered, it seemed as though my wishes might eventually come to fruition, but then I decided to go to Gregory’s for a cup of coffee…

For every promise, there is a price to pay – Jim Rohn

Chapter One

I should probably be taking it easy after my heart attack, but what the hell, my curiosity just won’t let me. Penny keeps creeping out in the morning, trying to apply forced rest by not waking me, and Harry just doesn’t do his normal kamikaze leap on me anymore. What’s worse though, is that my damn dog Sally, who is a Shi-tsu/Yorkshire Terrier cross, treats me with kid gloves as well. But I am a stubborn old goat, and where I used to love the lie in, I am now invariable consumed with the desire to be up at the crack of dawn. I very rarely make it, as Penny, knowing me as well as she does, makes sure she’s up first.

Penny is my wife, and is so much younger than me that I try not to think about it, but she has still told me that if I die she’ll kill me. She’s normally pretty logical, but when she gets upset with me, that part of her goes out of the window. Now Harry, who is our adopted son, and has just turned nine, says he totally agrees with her, and would hold her coat while she did it. He acts far older than his years, and if you couldn’t see how young he was, you could be forgiven for assuming him to be, at the very least, in his teens.

Faced with such impeccable logic, I am forced to make breakfast last much longer than normal, so that I don’t wander into the office before at least ten o’clock in the morning. In addition to the logic of my dear wife, there is always Grace who is our live in housekeeper. She has taken it upon herself to protect me from myself, whether I want her to or not, and monitors my diet like a hawk. But not even that makes me feel any better, as my friends and colleagues, who are actually employees I might add, are all traitorous S.O.B’s and won’t tell me anything, in case I try to become involved.

I have even been deserted by M.I.6… bastards… who say that my health precludes me from being an agent anymore. They even sent a young lady called Alicia to seize my trusty old Browning Automatic on the pretence that I might collapse and accidently shoot an innocent passer-by. I did argue that they had seemed happy enough when I was just old rather than heart attack old, but they said it would be irresponsible, if not immoral, to keep me on.

Penny however, remains an agent, even if only as a sop to the service that my detective agency had provided them in their hour of need. As we had uncovered an attempt to infiltrate the service, and at the same time brought the murderer of the Home Secretary’s son to Justice, they had effectively made us honorary agents as a reward. They had never officially asked us to do anything, but being able to call on their services from time to time had certainly been useful, and as long as Penny is still on their books, it would hopefully continue.

By the way, my name is Sir Lawrence Dexxman, Larry to you, and I am a going on seventy-six year old private detective. I took it up when I left the Royal Air Force years ago, but didn’t have much work to speak of until recently when I uncovered the conspiracy behind the murder of the Home Secretary’s son. It adorned most of the newspapers for weeks, and as a result serious work started to come my way. It did call for some expansion, staff wise, but as most of them became friends rather than employees, I didn’t mind at all.

I like to think that I am the driving force behind Dexxman Investigations, but on reflection, that’s probably not true anymore. Penny runs the whole shooting match now, with the help of Neil Carson, who was a freelance investigator before joining us when our workload became too much. He was pretty much my second in command, but now he has switched that loyalty completely to Penny.

The other two in the office are Denise Allen, who is usefully married to Detective Inspector Charles (Chuck) Allen, and my adopted daughter Margaret. At sixteen she had been taken into care, because of the philandering of her mother, but had come to me and asked if I would adopt her. She had been the girlfriend of the Home Secretary’s deceased son, and had helped us out on several occasions when a teenager was needed during an investigation. Surprisingly she has an aptitude for investigative work, is bright and learns very quickly. Harry loves her to bits, so it seemed like an easy thing to do.

Adopting Harry had turned out to be quite difficult given the difference in age between me and Penny, and the fact of course, that Social Services considered me to be a geriatric old fart. He had come to us to find his mother, who had unaccountably disappeared, and stayed with us after his father had ended up as the prime suspect. At first they had flatly refused our request to adopt, but then Harry had threatened to become a juvenile delinquent unless they agreed. At that point they had graciously caved in. I had the feeling that they had actually wanted to place him with me, but couldn’t find an acceptable excuse for the powers that be. To everyone’s relief, Harry had provided that excuse.

I walked into the office, and got grunts of disapproval from everyone there, so I told them I was just going out for a walk. Sally made a move to follow me, but I ruffled her ears and told her to stay. Picking my stoutest stick from the stand by the door, I made my way downstairs making full use of the handrail, and pushed open the door of Gregory’s café which is situated on the ground floor of my building. As soon as he saw me he rushed forward, scolded me for daring to venture out on my own, and helped me to my usual seat at the rear of the café near the kitchen. Perhaps MI6 were right, if this mollycoddling continued and I still had the Browning, I would eventually shoot someone, and I might add, not by accident either.

Gregory was my vision of the perfect chef, not too tall, but very round. His cooking was second to none, and his cafe was always bustling. I had managed to buy the whole building with money I had made over twenty five years or so, but after furnishing the flat and the office I wanted, I just had no money to live on. I was beginning to despair, and was airing this to several friends in the local pub, when Gregory had overheard. He made me a rental offer for the ground floor that I could not refuse, and the rest is history.

He brought me my fourth cup of tea of the morning, which wouldn’t cost me anything, because as things had picked up more recently, we had come to an agreement that I wouldn’t charge him rent anymore, and he wouldn’t charge me or my crew for refreshments. It was an arrangement that suited us both. Wrapping my hands around the cup to savour the warmth, I settled back to people watch.

At the table next to me, three men in suits and a smartly dressed woman were talking, and even though their voices were muted conspiratorially, I still managed to catch the odd word here and there. They took no notice of me, but then who would of an old codger who had to be helped to his table. Probably from their point of view I was about to peg it any minute anyway.

The woman, who under normal circumstances would have been considered extremely attractive, had a look on her face which made any attractiveness just an illusion. From where I was sitting, she certainly looked like someone not to be messed with. She was definitely in charge, and was hissing her words at the others through clenched teeth, trying to make any possible onlookers think she was not talking,

"…in the room…" she said.

"…I don’t care, he has to go…" I heard the first guy hiss, and my interest was piqued.

"diffi… justify…" I heard from another.

"…tribunal…" came from a third.

"…no one…come…" from the second again

"…bother… kill… bastard…" from the woman again and I was hooked.

She looked around and saw me staring at them, did a double take, and whispered something to the others whose heads immediately snapped around to look at me. I heard one of them, not quite sure which, say, Nah. It’s uncanny, but it isn’t him.

I was still staring, and she glared at me.

Something interest you old man?

Thinking quickly, I put my cup down and cupping my hand to my