Free Cherringham--Blade in the Water by Neil Richards

avenues’ .”
    “Damn. Know you were hoping to land that.”
    “It would have set Grace and me up for months . Now, we’ve just got the usual bits and pieces to cobble together.”
    Then Jack did something unexpected, almost — Sarah thought — out of character.
    He reached across the table, and gently tapped her right forearm.
    “That stinks, Sarah. But you know … There will be others. As big.” He smiled. Somehow so reassuring. “Even bigger.”
    “I know,” She took a breath.
    He was right. Win some, lose some.
    “It’s just that … we did such a lot of work for that pitch.”
    “Useful elsewhere?”
    Sarah thought about that for a second and nodded. “Possibly. I mean, it might work for one of the travel agencies in Oxford. Maybe they’d like to hear some new ideas …”
    “There you go.”
    Sarah looked at her watch.
    “And now dinner and kids beckon.”
    She reached into her purse. “I got this,” Jack said. “You can get the next one.”
    “It’s a deal. Let me know how your chat with Ray goes? And I’ll let you know what I find.”
    “You bet …”
    Sarah smiled, and then dashed out of the café, leaving Jack to finish his tea and the last remaining biscuit, which — knowing Jack’s taste for them — wouldn’t be long for this world.

11. The Boat in the Night
    Ray was already waiting at the Grey Goose to begin his patrol with Jack.
    If nothing else, Jack thought, he’s eager.
    But as he walked up the gangway to the barge, he saw something in Ray’s eyes.
    Lager, cannabis … or excitement?
    He’d soon find out.
    “Jack … Jack — I got some news .”
    Jack opened the door and Riley bounded out. A quick jump onto Jack and then the Springer raced off to the meadow, answering nature’s call.
    “Do tell.”
    If Ray had any news, Jack knew it would have to be filtered based on the source.
    “Shall we do our rounds while you talk?”
    “Right, so, last night,” Ray followed Jack off the Goose, as they began walking the riverside, the sun down, their citizens patrol kicking in at dark. “I went down the Ploughman’s.”
    “Not surprised,” Jack said.
    “And one of the lads there, works down at the Wharf, says he spotted something interesting at the old Iron Works.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “You know the Iron Works? Derelict place. Falling down.”
    “I’ve seen it, from the river,” said Jack, making conversation. “So what did this guy spot then?”
    “A brand new tender.”
    “So? It’s a wharf — no? You kinda expect to see boats at wharves.”
    “But it was a tender I saw that night Jack! Coming down the river!”
    “I wanted to ask you about that.” Jack looked at a barge as they passed it. Dark, owner away.
    All quiet.
    Probably not much point to this, he thought. Still, good to show solidarity with the other boat people. And with the Regatta starting tomorrow, the whole vigilante patrol would soon be over …
    “Yeah, all shiny and new, not like one of them beat-up tenders you see around here. Like something off a yacht.”
    Jack stopped.
    “So you’re saying …”
    “That whoever I saw that night dumped the tender at the Iron Works. Though the guy did say that he didn’t see it when he came back the other way. Maybe the fella we’re after is gone.” Ray paused, leaning into Jack, the wafting smell of whiskey emanating from his teeth-deprived mouth. “The killer—”
    “Don’t know if we have a killer yet, Ray. And maybe the guy isn’t gone.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Whoever it was could have tied up, looked around, then moved the boat out of sight.”
    The idea seemed to dumbfound Ray.
    “You mean he’s still there?”
    “Might be, Ray. Might be.”
    “Well that’s another funny thing,” said Ray. “They had a break-in at the chandlers too. But none of the expensive stuff got nicked.”
    This did make Jack pause. “Let me guess — somebody hit the food store.”
    “Yeah! That’s right! How did you know?”
    “Just putting things