Free Archie's Battleflat Adventures: The Harriman Mystery by Rebecca King Page B

bed. The few minutes’ sleep he had managed to snatch
that morning had done little more than make him tireder. He had
been woken by his mum holding a plate of eggs and toast over his
head, and the abrupt arrival of Ben and Sammy who were loudly
squabbling over who had run down the stairs the fastest.
    His dad
had reappeared briefly to escort Martha and Emilie to work, warning
Archie to be on his guard and tell Mr Tompkins if he got too tired.
Knowing he wouldn’t risk causing the family more worry, Archie
merely nodded, having no intention of telling Mr Tompkins anything
of the kind. He was paid to do a day’s work; and a day’s work he
would do.
    Unfortunately, he hadn’t realised just how bad his day would
get.
    Dark
storm clouds had gathered with increasing determination throughout
the day, causing everyone’s mood to darken with it. The harvest had
only just begun and would have to be suspended for several days to
allow the corn to dry out if it rained too heavily. Nobody was
looking forward to the prospect of sitting around for a few days
and, desperate to get as much of the crop in before it rained,
everyone worked twice as hard. Unfortunately, that meant that more
carts appeared at the mill faster, as the workers tried to get the
grain under cover. There was money to be earned, and grain to be
harvested. The welfare of not only their families, but the
livestock, was at risk if the crops were ruined by heavy storms,
and that thought alone was enough to ensure everyone who was able
bodied was working as frantically as possible.
    Dropping
the empty sacks at his feet, Archie stood and stretched his back,
yawning widely as he stared out of the window. In the far distance
a bright flash of lightening lit the sky, warning of an impending
deluge. Wrinkling his nose at the thought of the soaking he would
get walking home in the pouring rain, Archie took a moment to study
the area. From three floors up, the top of the corn mill was as
high as the old oak tree in the spinney. Located at the furthest
corner of the village, it gave an unhindered view of the
surrounding countryside that couldn’t be seen from the oak
tree.
    Oblivious to the low rumbling of the millstones beneath him,
Archie studied the long line of trees running across the horizon.
Ambleton woods, they were called, and bordered the main road out of
the village toward the larger town of Hampton four miles away.
Running his gaze along the treeline, Archie paused at the sight of
the run-down shack sheltered, barely visible, to the far left of
the woods.
    “ Mr Harriman’s house,” Archie whispered, frowning at the
ramshackle, single-storey building with a shudder. Even from a
distance the house looked old and haunted. Archie frowned
thoughtfully at the building. It wasn’t too far away, and would
only take a couple of minutes to get there. There were no trees
lining the road, only tallish hedges that could be used for
protection from prying eyes.
    If he
could get to Mr Harriman’s house, then he could take a look inside
and see for himself if there was anything amiss that could give him
a clue about what had made Mr Harriman so happy on the day he had
died.
    Quickly
running his eyes over the rolling fields before him, Archie frowned
absently as his mind raced with possibilities. A flurry of movement
directly below him snapped him out of his thoughts, and his eyes
dropped down to the ground several feet below.
    “ Oh, no,” he whispered, his eyes meeting those of the Justice,
who was staring up at him. Archie wondered if Lord Brentwood had
come to ask more questions, and glared down at the aristocratic man
defiantly. His heart thumped heavily in his chest as the image of
the cloaked figure standing at the side of the cart track beside
his house flew into his mind. The size of the man was very similar
to the Justice. Even from three floors up, his eyes met and held
the Justice’s for several long moments until, just as quickly, the
Justice broke eye contact