Don't Bank On It!

By Milly Reynolds

In this latest Mike Malone Mystery, Mike finds that an ex-colleague is proving to be a silent victim and refusing to give him any information that will allow him to apprehend her tormentors. He and his faithful Detective Sergeant, Alan Shepherd, are frustrated because they see the attacks escalating and have no idea what the reason behind them is. Then, things take a very ominous turn and Mike finds himself faced with a situation where a life is at stake.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Milly Reynolds
• Release date: Jan 10, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005379810

Milly Reynolds

As you may have already guessed, Milly Reynolds is not my real name. Like my 'hero' Detective Inspector Mike Malone, I also hide my real identity. Having 'retired' from my job, I was a full-time teacher in a secondary school, I decided to pursue my dream of becoming a writer. So why Mike Malone? I love all things detective and wanted to create my own series. However, I decided not to go for the deep, dark thriller - I could never compete with the masters of that genre, like Jo Nesbo whose books I adore? Therefore I came to the decision that the Mike Malone series would be off-beat. I like to think that there is humour in my books; I don't want to scare people, I want to make them chuckle - there is not enough laughter in the world at the moment. As the series has progressed, I have become very attached to Mike; he is the comfortable pair of slippers that I put on at night. My husband has also become attached to Fi and I am under strict instructions not to let anything happen to her - yet. Living in Lincolnshire, I love the flat, endless landscapes and want these to be seen in my books alongside places that I know and love. Mike Malone has moved from the city to Lincolnshire and has fallen in love with the place; me, I was born here and can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be. However, although Mike was my first creation, he is not the only one. I have also created Jack Sallt, another Detective Inspector. Jack is grittier than Mike and there is not the humour in his stories that there is in the Mike Malone stories. I wanted to write a more 'grown-up' detective story. When time allows this will be developed into a series as well. With two male detectives under my wing, I also decided that it was time for the girls to take centre stage and 'Scorpion's Tale', my first novel featuring Liv Harris, a character in the Jack Sallt novels, was published in 2013. I am hoping that Liv will make another appearance at some point in the future. Not content with crime, I have also wandered into the realms of romance; my first stand-alone novel 'The Unseen Sky' was published August 2011. I'm lucky, I enjoy writing and find it just as relaxing to sit and create as it is to read, although sometimes a good book can get in the way of my writing. I read on average 50/60 books a year and always keep my blog updated with reviews. Anyway, I hope you like my novels. I have fun coming up with ideas for Mike -...

Book preview

Prologue

Callum Firth threw his bike on the ground and pulled out a cigarette, even though he knew his mum would kill him if she knew about it. Working at the hospital, she always had horrible stories to tell him, all designed to warn him off anything pleasurable. Not that smoking was that pleasurable, he hated the taste it left in his mouth, but all the others at school smoked and he didn’t want to appear different. It was difficult enough to fit in as it was. He sat on the bank and watched the ducks swimming around. Once his paper round was finished, it was quite nice just to sit on the bank for a few minutes. Not many people were walking around; there were just a few cars on the town bridge as people started their journey to work. This was always his time, a chance to chill before the horror that was school, before he had to spend all his time looking over his shoulder, watching what he was saying, what he was doing. These were the times when he most wished that his dad was around and not in Newcastle with a new family. It was ages since he had seen him, he was always too busy to visit. Callum sighed. Maybe the truth was that his dad was always making excuses not to visit because he was disappointed in him, disappointed that he wasn’t the son he had hoped for. Maybe, Callum decided as he got to his feet, his dad just didn’t want a loser as a son. As he picked up his bike, he heard a splash and looked around to see someone driving away on a silver motorbike. He looked in the river and saw a cat, a small black cat that was splashing fearfully as it tried to get to the bank.

You poor thing.

Callum dropped his bike again and slid down the bank but the cat was too far away for him to reach. He looked around for ideas. Nothing, and all the time the cat was failing to get closer to the bank. There was no other option. Putting his phone down next to him, he took off his jacket and shoes and slithered into the water, throwing his jacket out in front of him.

Grab it! he called out to the cat as if it would understand.

The water was cold and he dreaded to think how filthy it was as he took another step. The cat was still flapping and this time, by pure chance, its claws caught the edge of the jacket. It tried to unhook itself but in doing so, a second paw got caught. Callum carefully pulled the jacket back towards him, all the time hoping that the stupid animal would realise that he was trying to help it and wouldn’t escape back into the water.

Good lad, keep going.

He heard someone behind him shouting, but he couldn’t afford to look around. He needed to focus on the cat. He could hear someone sliding down the bank to join him but he didn’t want to take his eyes off the distraught animal. At that moment, the cat was within touching distance. He reached out, grabbed it by the scruff of its neck and plucked it from the water.

Let me have it while you get out. A pair of black hands reached out to take the cat and Callum turned around and looked into a face that was staring at him with an equal mix of concern and kindness. Give it here.

Callum allowed the man to take the cat, which was shivering with fear, while he got himself out of the water. His mum was going to kill him, his trousers were filthy and his jacket was probably ruined.

You did a good deed, lad. Many would just have let the cat drown.

Callum looked at his feet and wondered whether to take off his socks or just keep them on and squelch back home.

Look, my car is over there, let me run you home.

I’ve got my bike, but thanks.

If that’s what you want. Do you want this little one? The cat had now calmed down but seemed to be clinging onto the man’s jacket.

I don’t know who it belongs to, but I think someone threw it into the river. I heard a splash and saw a motorbike driving away.

That’s awful. Are you sure you’ll be ok?

Fine thanks. What about the cat?

As I said, my car is only over there, I’ll run it to the vets. The man looked around him. But how am I going to get it to sit still?

Callum thought for a moment. He was going to be late for school anyway, that is if he even bothered to go in, so…

Look, if your offer is still good, my bike can go in the boot and I’ll hold the cat for you. Then you can take me home, if that's ok with you.

Good thinking and it’s fine. I’m Dexter Sullivan, friends call me Dex.

Callum Firth.

Nice to meet you, Callum.

Picking up his bike, he walked beside Dex to the Market Place and his car. Once settled into the back seat with the cat and they were on their way, Callum decided to satisfy his curiosity.

I don’t remember seeing you in town before. Are you visiting?

Dex laughed. And you would have remembered seeing a black guy, wouldn’t you? Callum felt himself blushing. No, Callum, I’m not visiting. My family and I moved here a couple of weeks ago. I’m at the bank and Mel is looking for a job at the moment.

Do you have kids?

Just a boy, he’s ten.

What does he think of the school?

Dex sighed. It’s difficult as Charlie is mixed race. He’ll settle in, he’s a tough little cookie. We’re here.

Dex opened the passenger door. Do you want to come in?

No. I’ll sit here, I’m a bit of a mess. Sorry about your car.

It’ll clean.

Callum watched Dex disappear behind a pair of white doors and then return.

I’ve asked them to give me a ring to let me know if they are able to reunite her with her owner. Let me have your number and I’ll let you know what happens, or you can ring me at the bank if you don’t think it’s right for me to have your number. Either is fine.

Callum thought. I’ll ring you.

Ok. Now let's get you home.

1

Dan Marshall had phoned me just as I was leaving the house, and on my drive to the station, all I could think of was how evil some people could be. Trying to drown a cat! It was unthinkable. Luckily, it had escaped unscathed and Dan was waiting for the owner to collect it. What had happened to the cat, as bad as it was, hadn’t been the reason that Dan had called me. He had contacted me because he thought the cat’s owner would be of interest to me. It was. Diane Porter. Diane had been one of my WPCs until she lost her job after she concealed her affair with a suspect in a murder enquiry. She had then started working at Richard Austin’s bank where she had got herself mixed up with another murderer. And now someone had tried to murder her cat! That girl seemed to attract trouble. Having not bumped into her for a while, I wasn’t even sure what she was doing now, whether she was still at the bank. Shepherd would know, he knew everything.

When I entered the station, for once, I couldn’t see him bounding around which was unusual. Everywhere else there was a sense of calm which made me groan inwardly. A peaceful station meant that there was no excuse not to dive into the mountains of paperwork that came from above; the constant need for statistics seemed to me to be a pointless exercise. Joe Public did not need to know what percentage of the annual budget was spent on office supplies, Joe Public just needed to feel safe. If those faceless figures locked away in their ivory towers would stop wasting money on pointless paperwork and petty initiatives, then every town could have a proper police force and ‘bobbies on the beat’ as my dad always used to say. He always used to tell me stories of his youth when the town policeman knew everyone and was trusted by all. Maybe that is what the country should return to. Who knows. Today’s world was a very different world to the one my dad grew up in. If he came back now, he wouldn’t recognise the place.

I pulled the pile of paperwork from my drawer and started to sort through it, prioritising the most urgent. I’d clear that first. Checking my watch, I set myself a goal - and my alarm. I would work solidly until eleven o’clock and then I would reward myself with a coffee and cake at Rads’ place. I set to work.

Alan Shepherd was leaning into the bonnet of the car that he had spotted at the side of the road. To be truthful, it hadn’t been the car he had spotted, it had been the slim figure leaning into it. He knew that Cat would never forgive him for leaving a damsel in distress, so he had pulled up to offer his assistance and had got a real shock when the young woman had lifted her head to look at him. Diane Porter. Diane had been a colleague of his some years ago but had left the service under a cloud.

And it just overheated? he asked her from under the bonnet.

The temperature shot up to red so quickly, I thought I’d better stop. Diane was standing at his shoulder.

You didn’t happen to notice if there was a puddle underneath your car when you got in, did you?

No, but I wouldn’t have been looking for one.

Shepherd straightened, closed the bonnet and pulled out his phone. I need to report this, Diane, he said. This wasn’t an accident. Your radiator hose has been sliced through. Someone has done this deliberately.

Diane Porter shuffled her feet uncomfortably. No, that can’t be right. It’s an old car, these things wear out, don’t they?

I would like the boys to take a look. Can I drop you in town? Are you still at the bank?

Yes. I’m the lead cashier these days. Very different to the police force.

Less bad guys, Shepherd laughed. And how are you?

Me, I’m fine. Still young, free and single. Still waiting for Mr Right.

Shepherd looked at her closely. Diane Porter did not look fine; she was on edge, nervous. He didn’t press it as she could just have been unsettled by the breakdown and his feeling that her car had been deliberately tampered with. He’ll come along, Diane. Cat believes that in life there is someone for everyone.

Well, he’d better hurry up. I found a grey hair at the weekend.

"As if I believe that. Come on, let’s get you to work. Have you got everything you need from