The Power of One Read Online Free

tool-maker, a man and his son who restored boats and did repairs down at the marina. Mac wasn’t sure what else was there.
    â€˜What do they do?’ he asked.
    â€˜Computers,’ Andy said. ‘Games mostly.’
    â€˜Software development,’ Rina said grandly. ‘And I think they design special chips or something, there’s a small R&D department. Paul ran that, I think.’
    Mac nodded but did not pursue the enquiry, guessing he’d get more from Andy later than he could glean from Rina. She was an internet addict, but had little interest in anything else in the world of IT. Andy, on the other hand, was an avid player of all things fantasy.
    â€˜Why base it here? Frantham isn’t exactly the English equivalent of silicon valley.’
    â€˜Oh, sentiment, I think,’ Rina said. ‘Apparently the de Freitas’ father or grandfather or something lived here. I don’t know more than that. Edward mentioned spending childhood holidays close by. And I suppose it makes a kind of economic sense, having the airfield and, I think, buying everything relatively cheaply. Who knows?’
    She was irritated, Mac thought, that she hadn’t probed further into de Freitas family history. He guessed it was an absence of information she’d soon be filling in.
    They pulled up in front of Peverill Lodge. ‘Well,’ Rina said, as Mac helped her out of the car. ‘I dare say I’ll see you soon. Give Miriam my love, won’t you?’
    â€˜Will do,’ Mac said. He watched her go inside then ducked his head into the car. ‘Go and park up, Andy. I’ll walk back via the coffee shop.’
    Andy greeted the idea with a grin of approval. The police station was at the far end of the promenade, a strictly pedestrian zone, so the parking of the police vehicles – and Mac’s car, involved a bit of a loop round by the back roads. Since Mac had taken over the reins of power from his predecessor, DCI Eden, now retired, police patronage of the little Italian coffee shop on the promenade had risen dramatically. In Eden’s time, the coffee at the station came dangerously strong and frequently adulterated with single malt. It was not a tradition Mac had continued, preferring vanilla or almond in his. He had converted Andy and was working on the wearing down of Sergeant Baker’s resolve.
    â€˜
Tonino’s
’ was also an excellent place to take the temperature of community feeling and collect the local gossip. Whatever was being speculated upon with regard to the de Freitas murder, Mac would have collated by the time he arrived back at the police station.

FIVE
    L ydia de Freitas was practically incendiary. ‘You should have told him. Everything, Edward. Paul’s dead. Are you going to wait for one of us to be next?’
    Edward shook his head. He poured whisky into a tumbler with a hand that shook so much the ice rattled when he lifted it. ‘You don’t know this was related, Lydia. We don’t know anything, that’s the trouble. Paul didn’t exactly confide in me.’
    â€˜Well he certainly didn’t confide in
me
, if that’s what you’re suggesting.’
    â€˜I’m not a fool, Lydia.’
    She came over, cupped her hand around his, holding the glass steady. ‘That’s just it,’ she said softly. ‘You are a major, massive, big-time fool. I loved Paul, yes. Once upon a time; but I married you and, Edward,
I’ve
never regretted that. You’re the one with the doubts, not me. Not Paul.’
    She laid her head against his shoulder and, almost absently, he stroked the soft blonde hair, and inhaled her fragrance. Edward closed his eyes. ‘I’m scared,’ he admitted. ‘I don’t know what to do to be right, Lydia.’
    â€˜You should have told him. That policeman.’
    Edward pulled away impatiently. ‘Look, I don’t doubt the man’s good intentions, but