Free Blood in the Cotswolds by Rebecca Tope Page A

‘Two and a half years ago my son, Giles, went missing. He was eighteen. Just vanished overnight, with no warning.’
    ‘Did you report it?’
    ‘No. We had our reasons not to, believe me.’
    ‘Wasn’t that very odd? If there was no prior behaviour to suggest he might be planning to go off – why in the world wouldn’t you report it?’
    Pritchett shook his big head and glanced fleetingly at Thea. ‘Not so simple. We assumed he was in trouble, you see. Drugs or something. We thought he’d gone into hiding, and if we sent out a search party for him, it could backfire – see him landed in gaol, even. His mother could never have dealt with that. We never seriously thought he might be dead – not until just a few months ago, that is.’
    ‘Did you know for sure he was involved in something illegal?’
    ‘We betrayed him,’ mumbled the man after a long pause. ‘We believed badly of him, when there wasn’t the slightest evidence. Just the wordof a silly girl who didn’t know what she was talking about.’
    ‘I’m not sure I’m following this,’ Phil said impatiently. ‘If I didn’t know better I’d think there was some sort of hold over you. You sound like a parent whose kid’s been taken for ransom and they’re scared to involve the police.’
    Pritchett smiled tightly. ‘No, that wasn’t it. There was never any suggestion of a ransom. But we did get the idea that some shady characters might be after him.’
    Thea could not restrain a snort at this. Both men looked at her in outrage. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘But shady characters – isn’t that something you’ve read in a spy novel?’
    Pritchett’s tight smile flashed again. The fact that he said nothing revealed more of his mental state than anything he had told them. He was holding himself in, Hollis judged, keeping his temper and patience despite the provocation.
    ‘Thea – I’d go if I could move – but as it is, can I ask you to fetch us something to drink? Tea, lemonade, anything that comes to hand?’
    ‘This isn’t our house, you know,’ she said.
    ‘No, but just the same, I’m thirsty.’ Phil straightened his neck and gave her a look thathe hoped said Stop behaving like a teenager and let me and this wretched man get on with it. Something of his meaning must have got across, because she went off without further argument.
    ‘Sorry,’ muttered Pritchett vaguely. ‘P’raps I shouldn’t have come.’
    ‘Well, now you’re here, why don’t you start again and tell me the real story this time?’ Phil said. ‘I think we’ve got ten minutes or so before Thea comes back.’
    ‘It was a family thing,’ the man muttered, almost in a whisper. ‘That’s the long and short of it. We couldn’t involve the police without exposing a lot of very dirty washing. My wife would have paid that price – but I wouldn’t allow it. I’ve suffered for it ever since. Don’t go thinking there’s anything criminal in the boy. It isn’t that at all. It’s his mind , you see. He was always very unpredictable. Probably attention deficit syndrome.’
    Phil narrowed his eyes. ‘You’re a doctor, aren’t you? You make it sound as if it’s something quite outside your area of expertise.’
    Pritchett puffed out his cheeks. ‘Believe me, my friend, it is. I’ve only ever been a sawbones. I can replace a hip joint before you can singtwo verses of “Onward Christian Soldiers”, but when it comes to the psychological stuff, I’m completely at sea. Plus it’s different when it’s your own offspring.’
    Phil could think of nothing to say to that. He merely adopted an open expression, inviting further disclosures.
    ‘The boy – Giles – was very fond of his great-grandpa as a little chap. My grandfather, that is. Lived to be ninety-eight, as sharp as a scalpel to the end. Phenomenal memory and quite a scholar. He knew all there was to know about the Templars, when it wasn’t a bit fashionable. Anyhow, he fed Giles all this stuff when he