A Hair's Breadth

By Mike O'Sullivan

Lauren is breaking out of her old mould of hairdresser into owner manager of Mirror Images. She has been working long and hard on how best to take forward her new venture when she receives an unusual party invitation, as does her rich friend Claire. They are curious and decide to adventure into the unknown. At Belham Manor they encounter a whole new world of high roller investors and an alternative lifestyle which intrigues. They encounter Inspector Brian Kirby undercover at the party and discover a world of huge family riches and control, oligarchs and grooming of playmates, wealth beyond imaging and its limitations. Lauren finds herself challenged to the edge and gets personal insight on her view of her own and her friends’ relationships as the hairdressers of Ross and Hereford move into a new phase. And then one of them is murdered which could change everything.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mike O'Sullivan
• Release date: Jul 18, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005460044

Mike O'Sullivan

Mike is an Irish novelist and poet, married and living in Herefordshire England. He was born in Dublin and spent his school years in Cork. In primary school Mike needed to get by the eagle-eyed headmaster who looked hard at his long essays designed to hide the words he could not spell. This carried on further up the line when at UCD the Professor of English likened Mike to another who could not spell, George Bernard Shaw. But Mike made the connection, he did not have to be a genius at spelling.He moved to London in his twenties and has worked in a wide range of industries – music and cosmetics, in oil exploration, mining, insurance, catering, City Finance and Management Consultancy. Mike uses that experience in his novels. When he first arrived in London Mike fell in with a group of three other Irishmen debating the philosophical process of making a million or finding a job that was more like pleasure. Mike found the job, but it would take too long to explain his philosophy here. Mike says that in a sense he had a plan for life and so far it has been working out.His novels often start with an individual battling the system but without a plan of how he or she will cope. Mike believes that social systems and institutions are usually rigid when it comes to change or quick decisions and therefore the individual can become trapped. It takes effort, some courage and guile to walk out into the wider world of individual thinking. He shows that an individual can focus enough to even the odds and come out on top. He often uses humour and comedic situations to make his point leaving the reader to consider the underlying philosophy if they wish. A key element of Mike’s writing is the Irish skill of fast paced conversation as Mike’s overall aim is to entertain his readers.

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The Hairdresser Murders - 10

A Hair’s Breadth

By

Mike O’Sullivan

Copyright © 2022 by Mike O’Sullivan

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by photocopying or any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage or retrieval systems, without permission in writing from both the copyright owner and the publisher of the book.

This is a work of fiction based upon an actual event. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

The right of Mike O’Sullivan to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 and any subsequent amendments thereto.

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Chapter 1

October, Mirror Images Ross on Wye, Herefordshire

‘Claire, where’s Belham Manor?’ Lauren, who had just said goodbye to her last client of the day, had called up her friend when she remembered about the dubious party invitation.

‘It’s just outside Gloucester Lauren and supposed to be very smart. It’s very easy to get to. It’s near the river. However, I don’t really recognise the host on my invitation. But hey, it’s an adventure midweek.’

Lauren left for home. She took her time to get ready having decided not to eat anything because the invitation said there would be food. The autumn chill was setting in, but thinking it might be sticky at the party, she wore a short but very simple strappy sequined mini dress with low neck, big heels. She fancied living dangerously. She looked in her full-length mirror and thought she could be a catch for anyone. She would wear an extra warm jacket in the car though she decided.

This was the first party for some weeks because she had been busy with plans for the new premises for Mirror Images. The current owner-manager, Denise, was leaving for Spain with her partner and had given Lauren first refusal on taking over the Mirror Images business. Lauren had been successfully running her Hope Hall apartments for some time and her boutique hotel on Hope Island was just being finished off. She felt she could cope with the new challenge. She had the funds, and after discussion with her lawyer father, Julian Prior in London, she had mustered the confidence to go for it. By chance an old pub building just at the top of the high street in Ross on Wye had come on the market, and she felt sure it was a good omen. The premises were just right for the salon on the ground floor and a new beauty therapy offering on the first floor. Things were now well advanced with the building purchase near completion and plans agreed for its alteration into the new Salon.

So far there were few people who knew what was going to happen. Joe Carney, who she had met some months ago when his girlfriend was tragically murdered, had been fantastic in his management advice and he would be acting as project manager for the refurbishment. Of course her co-workers at the Salon knew she would be taking over Mirror Images and had been sworn to secrecy. They had all been assured of their jobs continuing. However, they did not yet know that Lauren planned new premises, even though some of her closest colleagues had been trying to prise information from her. It would not be long though. She would be going public very soon now.

The prospect of a break from thinking of business details and worrying that she had missed something, was very appealing and so she put all that to one side this evening as she drove to Gloucester. Claire was right about how easy it was to find the Manor. And when Lauren swung into the drive entrance and drove towards the marked parking area she was surprised and very impressed. It was not what she was expecting. Lauren had been wondering if she really had found the right place as in the last dregs of the evening dusk the manor looked more like a palace. Therefore she was pleased to see Claire who had been waiting in her car, get out to meet her.

‘Lauren,’ Claire whispered, ‘I see sharks. I’ve been watching for the last ten minutes and I can tell from my experience as a hotel receptionist that there is something going on here, something is not right. A lot of the guests seem to be bright young things, well-heeled, but none of them could possibly be used to this kind of place.’

‘Do you think we fit the bright young things label then Claire?’

‘I don’t know. Where did the hosts get our names from? I don’t recognise anyone so far. The ones who drove the expensive sports cars parked over there looked like the predators. She pointed to a row of Porsches, Aston Martins and Jaguars. I just thought you ought to know. There really isn’t enough money in the Gloucester banks to pay for this heap and its grounds. Look at the gardens. They’re massive. How many gardeners would you say, ten, twelve?’

‘You’re pumped up Claire. I sense a certain amount of excitement along with worry. And talking about worry…..’ Lauren was looking at Inspector Kirby and his beautiful Hope Island partner Melanie who were just arriving. They wandered over.

‘I’m on duty,’ he whispered ‘and I’m Brian.’

‘Hello Melanie,’ Claire smiled, ‘is this the only way you could get him to a party?’

‘Brian,’ Melanie whispered ‘is posing as a Lottery winner Claire. He is standing in for the real winner who was invited here out of the blue. Oh! Brian is on his way in. Catch you later.’

‘I think I can see the way this is going,’ Lauren concluded. ‘So Claire you will be right when you said the place is full of sharks. I wonder why we have been invited? As far as the rest of the world is concerned we are hardly high rollers. Or has someone got inside information on our financial status? We have kept that pretty low-profile haven’t we? I know Claire, I’m full of questions.’

‘I assume we are here because they have found out somehow that we have money they think we may consider spending. I think we should have our purses closed and our eyes open then,’ Claire responded. ‘It will be interesting though.’

They walked towards the entrance to catch up with Melanie and Brian as a green Jaguar parked up. Lauren recognised the women getting out, Erin Berkeley the owner of the Fringes salon in Ross on Wye, and the sleek Eva Cyclone the well-travelled beauty who worked for Erin.

‘I’d say they have invited the pick of Ross women,’ Brian declared as they waited for Erin and Eva. Over the last few months he had been involved with all the women on view in his official capacity of Police Inspector in the Special Police Unit in Hereford. He added, ‘I suppose the people holding the party will be watching our every move. They will be looking for people who have money to spare. We’d better not look as though we know each other. Don’t sign anything, careful how you go, they might look harmless enough, but they are all practiced at it. I can guarantee there will be risk in here tonight.’

‘Sounds exciting then,’ Erin concluded.

‘What does that remind you of Eva?’ Lauren smiled.

‘Gangsters and spies.’ Eva remarked as they walked up the few steps into the small lobby with the glass doors closing automatically behind them. In front of them was a huge circular room with a high atrium roof above. The room was set with groups of leather chairs and low tables and people were already chatting, drinks in hands.

Lauren recalled the time when she first met Eva and the dangerous range of spies and mobsters who had been chasing her. But she thought if there were some scam in place tonight, Erin was the target for the invitation and she had brought Eva along for company knowing her background in the South of France with the Russian Mafia, and her dangerous New York connections.

‘Welcome,’ a voice came out at them from the shadows at the back of the room. ‘I’m Beatrice Manners.’

Lauren recognised the name as the host on her party invitation.

‘You can go anywhere you like. There are lots of rooms of all shades, lots of drink and food, just help yourselves. Explore, we hope you all enjoy it.’

Beatrice was about thirty with long sleek dark hair. She was wearing a designer red silk dress. She had a practiced smile and wonderful attractive wide eyes. There was something slightly evasive though about her demeanour. For all the glamour of her dark tan and red lips, she was a woman gently smiling them into her domain.

‘There’re cocktails just down the hall and lots of room to wander. Do take advantage of us. See you later.’

They all walked on taken aback by the stylish art deco surroundings in what had seemed like a medieval manor house from the outside. A teenage waitress in a very short black dress with a little white pinny pushed a drinks tray in front of them and they felt obliged to take a glass each before walking on towards the hallway and the sound of a gathered crowd. They turned into a large throng milling about in what must have been the library, but instead of books it had classical statues more suited to an outdoor location than an interior. The marble figures were dotted about the vast space which was bizarrely illuminated with changing disco lights of purple and green timed to change with the low beat of the background music. People were gathered in large groups gossiping and laughing, conscious perhaps that they were themselves on display or under scrutiny. With individuals moving about between groups and new people arriving, Lauren and Claire soon became separated from their other friends.

‘Surely someone like Beatrice couldn’t be responsible for this contradiction of a medieval pile Claire,’ Lauren whispered as they pushed their way into space.

‘Exactly what I was thinking Lauren,’ Claire agreed ‘I’d guess the place has been hired specially for the party. You’ve seen the gardens and there’s more of it out there,’ she said pointing out of one of the tall windows. ‘It looks like there’s another wing to the building over there and maybe some cottages too. They must be for the people who look after the place. It’s vast. But why would they just hire it for the party? Motive Lauren, what’s their motive? It’s intriguing though, and very weird. Are they going to lock us away and hold us for ransom?’

‘I’m beginning to think of a stage set Claire. Look at this room with its statues and isn’t that a unicorn over there?’

‘They don’t exist Lauren, what are you drinking?’

‘No really. It looks like a fairground merry-go-round model. And look at that fireplace, you could hold a tea-party in it.’

‘Alice in Wonderland Lauren. Look at those tapestries, lions eating prey. It wouldn’t intimidate people who drive here in sports cars, but you wouldn’t want to be the sensitive type. I wonder if there are any lions here tonight? It’s giving me the creeps. Let’s find somewhere more relaxing than this room.’

They wandered further down the hall passing impressively dressed people moving in both directions. There was a room being used as a cinema playing the old movie classic Gone with the Wind on a huge screen, and oddly for so early in the evening, they spotted people already getting close up and personal in the gloom. The next room was much more to their taste but huge and split into two with double centre doors that had been opened wide. The furniture was black with purple and gold upholstery and the floor lamps were constructed with large ostrich plumes for shades throwing interesting patterns across the room. It was set up like a great morning room. And compared with the previous reception room from where they had escaped, it was calm and comfortable.

‘You could imagine the Lord of the Manor coming in here to read his morning paper to check the performance of his shares,’ Claire observed.

‘Let’s look around some more,’ Lauren suggested as they wandered out into the hall again and turned into another corridor.

‘Now that is more to your taste Lauren,’ Claire pointed to a superb swimming pool that ran down one side of the corridor and had larger than life classical urns down one side spewing water into the pool. There were large palms artistically placed at both ends of the pool where there were loungers for relaxing.

‘Don’t open the door or you’ll steam us up Claire,’ Lauren remarked.

‘Or you could dive in,’ a male voice came from over their shoulders. They both turned around slowly and there was the Adonis in his early thirties, six feet tall with an impressive tan. He was wearing a blue paisley shirt which Lauren thought looked like a Dolce & Gabbana creation she had seen in the latest fashion pages. He had fashionable white chinos and blue suede loafers. He had short blonde hair and was smiling like he was used to all the attention, a self-centred expression the two women found way too self-assured.

‘That would take us out of the party to which we have been invited,’ Lauren asserted. ‘And might reflect a vulgar, irresponsible attitude to our hosts.’

‘I wouldn’t mind that,’ he smiled back. ‘It would be a relief to find people enjoying themselves. And you never know, you might be joined in the pool.’

‘And you think that might be fun?’ Claire responded.

‘Especially if no-one else noticed,’ he smiled on.

‘Oh I think we’d be noticed,’ Lauren confided to the smiler. ‘As you might expect we don’t have swimming things with us.’

‘I didn’t mean it that way,’ he said realising his comment was not necessarily complimentary, ‘I just meant if no-one else walked by.’

‘Have you encouraged anyone to use the pool before?’ Claire asked. ‘I’m getting the impression that you believe we are not used to pools.’

‘It was just a thought,’ he admitted ‘that came into my head when I came across two such beautiful women. The impulse was out before I could stop it.’

‘I see from the look in those blue eyes,’ Claire remarked ‘that you are looking to get into trouble. However, do you really think you could take care of one of us let alone two?’

‘I guess I’m like that,’ he grinned ‘two gorgeous women, the pool and being born rash.’

‘I’m Claire and this is Lauren,’ Claire smiled introducing themselves.

‘Harry Manners,’ he replied.

‘Now Harry,’ Claire took one of his arms ‘could you lead us to a part of the house that is not overwhelmingly like a Hollywood stage set.’

Lauren took up Claire’s mood and took his other arm. Lauren had an idea of what Claire might be up to. And so, one on each arm, he moved them down the hall to turn left into a secondary corridor and stopped in front of a doorway at the end. He waited for Claire to open the door into what turned out to be the snooker room.

‘This is more congenial. Do you play?’ he asked.

‘We play anything,’ Claire replied looking at the table that was already set up for a game. ‘Who’ll go first Harry? Toss a coin.’

‘Don’t have any coins,’ he responded.

‘All right,’ she declared ‘we’ll just have to guess which of your fly buttons is open. You first Lauren.’

‘Second down,’ Lauren guessed.

‘I’d say fourth down,’ Claire guessed. Only she didn’t guess, she opened it. ‘OK,’ Claire took charge ‘I go first then you Lauren, then you Harry. The one who scores the most points wins. We then decide what the prize for that is.’

‘That’s all right with me,’ he agreed enthusiastically.

‘Is that a fridge Harry?’ Claire asked him.

‘Help yourselves’ Harry replied.

‘Lauren, sparkling mineral water.’

‘I’ll have a whiskey,’ Harry said as Lauren got the bottles out.

Claire wore a little black number with a low neck, see-thru lace midriff, and high hemline. The off-the-shoulder dress slipped provocatively as she played.

When deciding whether to attend the party both women had come to the same conclusion that there was something odd about the invitations and so they had agreed to dress to distract rather than attract. Lauren thought that Claire had decided to take on the party host on her own terms. These, from what Lauren could determine, were going to be very girly. She thought Claire’s low neck was bound to distract Harry and she knew from experience that Claire could play to an audience.

Claire took a long time to take her first shot pouring over the table to the extent that she appeared not to be dressed. Her shot surprised Harry because it left the cue ball behind the green.

‘It was worth the wait Claire,’ he acknowledged, all of them knowing exactly what he meant. Lauren carried on in the Claire way, thinking as she angled her shot of more extravagant ways of putting her host off his game. He had now sat down on a couch waiting his turn. Lauren thought that would give him a better view of both of them as they leaned over the table to line up their shots.

‘Harry,’ Claire whispered sliding up to him on the couch in a playful smooch, ‘however did you manage to get my name on your party list?’

‘I’m not in charge of the lists Claire,’ he responded thankfully being able to avoid the question.

‘Where do the lists come from?’ she persisted, the smooch still on full.

‘I think it’s from retailers in the West End or somewhere like that,’ he replied and Lauren thought he didn’t really know and he wasn’t in charge of events. She felt sure Claire would come to the same conclusion.

‘So where do you fit in on the rounds of parties Harry?’ Lauren asked, still in the process of taking her shot and pushing up her breasts on the side of the table.

‘I just trail along,’ he admitted and Lauren was thinking that he was being honest with them and might not be able to contribute anything further. But this didn’t stop Claire from smooching on.

‘So what do you do in life Harry?’ Claire asked him.

‘I run what you might call an estate agency business managing interesting properties.’

‘You don’t get fit doing that,’ Lauren commented.

‘I spend time working out.’

‘How much time?’ Claire asked.

‘About ten to twelve hours a week.’

‘That doesn’t explain your tan Harry.’ Lauren thought it was time to get personal.

‘We’ve just come back from the Caribbean.’

‘That must have been nice,’ Claire remarked ‘though it didn’t do much good for your snooker,’ she pointed out as his shot pitched on the wrong side of the pack.

‘I suppose I haven’t got my hand in yet,’ he put forward as an excuse though they both knew that he had bought into the tease going on.

‘Beatrice seems to be coping a bit better,’ Lauren remarked.

‘She’s always coped better,’ he confided in them.

‘Is she in the estate agency business too,’ Claire asked.

‘No she’s an investment adviser.’

‘Is that the same as the people who advise the rich to get their money offshore?’ Lauren put to him.

‘That’s the line of business as I understand it,’ he admitted.

Claire was now taking his attention with her second shot and looking up to him with her question. Lauren could see his interest becoming more personal.

‘So she must think a lot of you Harry taking you for the ride. Do you go to any of the off shore havens in your Caribbean wandering?’

‘Bermuda, Caymans sometimes, and one or two others.’

‘Does she leave you to wander while doing the business?’ Claire asked.

‘Well I don’t think any of her business is done on the islands. I think it’s all done here in the UK.’

‘So it’s