Murder by the Book by Eric Brown Page A

money. I’ll follow the motorbike, or whatever vehicle he’s using this time. I have contacts who can loan me a pistol—’
    â€˜But what if he himself is armed?’ Maria exclaimed.
    Langham recalled the sensation of something cold being held to the back of his head, and what the bomb site kids had said, but refrained from telling Maria.
    â€˜I can look after myself,’ he said. ‘The only way we can defeat the blackmailer is to find his copies of the photographs, along with the negatives, and destroy them. And the only way to do that is to confront the …’ He was about to say ‘bastard’, but stopped himself. ‘… the blackmailer.’
    â€˜Donald, Donald …’ Charles said. ‘I don’t like this one bit! The risk at which you are placing yourself … and all because I was weak and foolish.’
    â€˜Let’s consider it research for the next book, Charles.’
    He found the page showing the roads and lanes of East Sussex, and after a minute located the village of Chalford. Maria came and joined him on the settee, leaning against him and peering at the page. Langham indicated the village, and the lane to Hallet.
    He said, ‘You, Charles, will approach from the north, leave the envelope, and continue until you come to the A22, from where you’ll drive back to London.’
    Maria said, ‘You said you would be “there”, Donald. But where is “there”? What if the blackmailer sees you?’
    â€˜I intend to arrive an hour or so earlier and park in the derelict farm mentioned in the blackmailer’s letter.’
    Maria interrupted. ‘But how do you know you can see the gate from the farm? What if you cannot?’
    â€˜I don’t have to see the gate, do I? All I have to see is the motorbike passing—’
    â€˜If he does arrive on a motorbike this time—’
    â€˜â€”either having picked up the envelope, or about to pick it up,’ he went on. ‘Then I drive from the farm and follow him.’
    â€˜I think it will not work out,’ Maria said. ‘Too much could go wrong. If you do not react fast enough, or you fail to see the motorbike or whatever …’
    He smiled. ‘Well, what do you suggest?’
    She pursed her lips and tipped her head to one side as she regarded him. ‘Now, if there were two cars,’ she said, ‘stationed here, and here’ – she indicated points at each end of the lane – ‘then one of us would be bound to see the motorcyclist – or whatever – passing at the appointed time. Then we follow at a distance when the blackmailer picks up the envelope. That way we cannot fail.’
    He stared at her. ‘ We? ’
    She was indignant. ‘Do you think we cannot drive in France?’
    â€˜Are you sure you want to get mixed up in this?’
    She shrugged. ‘Do you think me incapable? Did you know that French women, and for that matter English women, fought for the Resistance in my country?’
    â€˜There is something I haven’t mentioned,’ Langham said a little sheepishly. ‘The blackmailer was armed.’ He told them about the gun being held to the back of his head.
    Maria’s lips were firm with resolve. ‘I will merely follow the motorcyclist to see where he goes. I will not confront him.’ She looked to Charles. ‘Will you make Donald see sense, please?’
    â€˜My friends,’ Charles said, reaching out and grasping their hands, ‘I feel as if I have been transported to the pages of a Bulldog Drummond adventure. My head spins and my heart swells at the thought of the lengths to which you, my dears, would go to save my considerable bacon … I would plead with you to allow me to go alone, but I fear my pleas would fall on deaf ears. Am I right?’
    Maria looked at Langham and laughed. ‘Right,’ they said in unison.
    Fifteen minutes later,