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A Fatal Flaw: A gripping, twisty murder mystery perfect for all crime fiction fans
Faith Martin
The brand new Ryder & Loveday novel from global bestseller Faith Martin!Readers love the Ryder & Loveday series:‘Insanely brilliant’‘I absolutely loved this book’‘Faith Martin, you've triumphed again. Brilliant!’‘If you haven't yet read Miss Martin you have a treat in store’The Ryder and Loveday SeriesBook 1: A FATAL OBSESSIONBook 2: A FATAL MISTAKEBook 3: A FATAL FLAW
About the Author (#u9a9b0022-fff7-53be-9c8a-64e3339836dc)
FAITH MARTIN has been writing for nearly thirty years, under four different pen names, and has had her 50th novel published recently. She began writing romantic thrillers as Maxine Barry, but quickly turned to crime! Her latest series of classic-style whodunits, featuring amateur sleuth Jenny Starling is now being reissued. But it was when she created her fictional DI Hillary Greene, and began writing under the name of Faith Martin, that she finally began to become more widely known. Her latest literary characters WPC Trudy Loveday, and city coroner Dr Clement Ryder take readers back to the 1960s, and the city of Oxford. Having lived within a few miles of the city of dreaming spires for all her life, (she worked for six years as a secretary at Somerville College) both the city and the countryside/wildlife often feature in her novels. Although she has never lived on a narrowboat (unlike DI Hillary Greene!) the Oxford canal, the river Cherwell, and the flora and fauna of a farming landscape have always played a big part in her life – and often sneak their way onto the pages of her books.
Readers love the Ryder & Loveday series (#u9a9b0022-fff7-53be-9c8a-64e3339836dc)
‘Insanely brilliant’
‘I absolutely loved this book’
‘Faith Martin, you’ve triumphed again. Brilliant!’
‘If you haven’t yet read Miss Martin you have a treat in store’
‘I can safely say that I adore the series featuring Dr. Clement Ryder and Probationary WPC Trudy Loveday’
‘This book is such a delight to read. The two main characters are a joy’
‘Yet another wonderful book by Faith Martin!’
‘As always a wonderful story, great characters, great plot. This keeps you gripped from the first page to the last. Faith Martin is such a fantastic author’
Also by Faith Martin (#u9a9b0022-fff7-53be-9c8a-64e3339836dc)
A Fatal Obsession
A Fatal Mistake
A Fatal Flaw
FAITH MARTIN
HQ
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2019
Copyright © Faith Martin 2019
Faith Martin asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
E-book Edition © February 2019 ISBN: 9780008297787
Version: 2019-01-17
Table of Contents
Cover (#u9ff5799c-93f0-5792-bbfc-6d563f481920)
About the Author (#u964d069a-49b6-52ee-b61c-665f6cbff03e)
Readers Love the Ryder & Loveday Series (#ua5ab682b-9122-5490-8b53-b44acf404223)
Also by Faith Martin (#ue9500136-3a93-5419-acf5-b46d87c26052)
Title Page (#ub7fa784c-e7d5-50a1-b14b-7c7882421910)
Copyright (#uc67f0a88-b040-5db6-832d-10a3e3bed984)
Dedication (#ube1c6e02-e279-5871-b1d0-0e6fef42e031)
Oxford, England, 1960 (#u49ba8a78-fefd-5f75-85d5-53673d054ab2)
Prologue (#u7155019c-044b-5c80-b6e1-68d3d363a1d5)
Chapter 1 (#u41976311-1c0b-59ae-98f6-1bfb609b353a)
Chapter 2 (#u4b906303-03fe-5a87-a0a9-5716f87f5519)
Chapter 3 (#u37dfcce8-52a7-58a5-8ba6-6fac424807cb)
Chapter 4 (#u0c3329fd-826f-5736-8064-eb5dab6d35f8)
Chapter 5 (#u8f1eb5ab-bd24-58c0-b6cf-ea091f0e90fa)
Chapter 6 (#ua60fdd51-01d8-589f-8304-fa5246d031dd)
Chapter 7 (#u076aed85-f5a3-5bbf-b1ad-d24c125ee80d)
Chapter 8 (#uf41db828-ea3c-5a21-98b5-a4ba08703452)
Chapter 9 (#u2386afeb-07bb-5ac5-baf7-8558710874d3)
Chapter 10 (#u45da6f70-e314-5d09-83c3-cee4f9f75333)
Chapter 11 (#ufeb8af31-5ec8-5286-ba8a-e1dc99ba09e1)
Chapter 12 (#ud2eaca16-5fe7-5f30-93d7-6d3701838cbb)
Chapter 13 (#uc22a7725-e96e-5c83-9870-55e5acad9c8d)
Chapter 14 (#u0afc58fb-d329-56b4-ae91-a80ccf30a755)
Chapter 15 (#u48ae7e82-78ee-5b79-8eaa-c211aff790dd)
Chapter 16 (#u67a7ce92-4fea-56ba-a790-ed3a8816e2f1)
Chapter 17 (#u238303f2-07d8-53a4-8cab-060c4e758233)
Chapter 18 (#u91c87df4-05b0-54d3-962b-d479a26ff258)
Chapter 19 (#ubdd717a1-4fba-5d06-b0f8-81d4f88c4356)
Chapter 20 (#u0eef36ff-b784-5aae-9cd2-e41099be0570)
Chapter 21 (#u8bb515ce-0aaa-57cc-9b07-2f05b4a616ae)
Chapter 22 (#ud6827253-0e58-5be9-b630-6874f846a53f)
Chapter 23 (#u736ba433-8fa6-537b-899a-53318fd709f6)
Chapter 24 (#u1b9c92db-10e7-565d-8d34-700282a46a0e)
Chapter 25 (#ud6e3f078-b821-5ba8-8ab8-8302e59a290f)
Chapter 26 (#uc58857a9-9c92-55d8-9df7-12f8762339de)
Chapter 27 (#u1a1c75d8-afe1-5663-a931-759f55d897df)
Chapter 28 (#u3733c5e7-7297-5ab7-86be-38aed90eae18)
Chapter 29 (#ue68247ed-e44b-565c-abe9-f7e0a4c03343)
Chapter 30 (#ud8d57818-bfe4-5943-952d-ba82d6e8862a)
Acknowledgements (#u5593c488-532d-533f-8149-646020c374c6)
Extract (#ue78c3d6d-bfce-5462-9508-c1776e6e49db)
Dear Reader (#ubc710c5f-ebeb-5529-b8f9-ba43caaf6fe2)
Keep Reading … (#ub7254f82-dd3b-5cc4-8025-7be4590a5cce)
About the Publisher (#ue12f7792-6572-54ba-af74-712579411848)
For my sister, Marion.
Thanks for being my second pair of eyes!
Oxford, England, 1960 (#ulink_d5898dd0-497d-5e85-a48b-dbbfca10094f)
Prologue (#ulink_b730b98e-f4fa-5c9f-8834-09acfe9716e9)
The fine September morning had dawned that day with a very welcome and concealing mist. Even so, as a figure slipped cautiously into one of the many churchyards that were scattered about the city, it looked around quickly.
The clock in the bell tower was yet to chime six. Unsurprisingly, there was no one else out and about so early, save for the stray milkman or conscientious dog-walker. Yet the figure – who was dressed in a rather disconcertingly ghostly-looking pale-grey mackintosh – nevertheless made sure that the attached hood was up and pulled well forward, thus concealing their face.
A lone blackbird perched on a gravestone gave its familiar chinking alarm but the figure in grey ignored it, making quickly but carefully towards the oldest part of the graveyard. Here the stones were made illegible by lichen and time, and an ancient yew tree survived in defiant and baccate splendour.
The only living inhabitant of the graveyard looked anxiously around, making sure that their next action would remain unseen and forever secret, before reaching out and plucking several choice, wax-like red berries.
These precious berries were quickly picked and thrust into a small brown paper bag, which was then hidden out of sight in one of the mackintosh’s large side pockets.
The anonymous figure in grey paused at the churchyard gate and peered carefully down the deserted small side street in either direction. As expected, nobody else stirred the early morning mist.
A clock in the city of dreaming spires chimed the hour, and the gatherer of berries paused to count them and smiled whimsically. Oxford. Here, in the hallowed halls of academe, the knowledge of the ages could be found. From the most obscure fact about a minor metaphysical poet, to the latest breakthrough in nuclear fusion. In this world-famous university city, with just a little time and effort, you could discover whatever you wanted to know, about any subject under the sun.
Like the properties of poison, for instance.
The figure slipped out of the churchyard gate and moved silently along the slick and damp pavement.
How many people knew that yew berries were poisonous? And of those that did, how many of them ever gave it a single passing thought that they could be so significant?
People were so complacent; so ignorant and oblivious to the ugliness in the world. So long as they were all right, and their own small personal universes were running smoothly, they cared little for anything or anybody else.
But as the person in the mackintosh headed quickly but cautiously for home now that the precious cargo had been safely harvested, they began to smile and nod. For soon the whole city would be made aware of just what the fruit of the humble yew could do. Oh yes. There would be a fuss made then, all right.
People always sat up and took notice when the young and the beautiful began to die.
Chapter 1 (#ulink_d171a0d0-13de-57af-a814-9ff52d8827a8)
Grace Farley paused outside the garden gate of her old friend, Trudy Loveday, and took a deep breath. At just turned 22, she was a few years older than Trudy, whom she’d first met at their local primary school. But it had been a few years now since she’d last seen her, and she needed a moment or two to compose herself.
She was not at all sure that what she was about to do was the right thing. What if it all backfired on her? A worried frown creased her pretty, freckled face as she debated whether or not to just turn around and go back home.
Part of her was sorely tempted to do just that. After all, so much could go awry, yet things were getting increasingly desperate, and there was no doubt in her mind that she needed help. Everyone knew that Trudy had joined the police and was doing really well. Grace’s Auntie May had heard from the hairdresser that Trudy had helped solve two murders. Mind you, everybody believed it was really one of the city’s coroners who had been the true force behind the cases. But even so.
Grace, a pleasingly plump girl, with short, curly reddish-brown hair that lent itself nicely to the poodle cut she favoured, glanced around, knowing that she couldn’t stand hovering outside the Lovedays’ garden gate all day long. People would begin to notice and wonder, and that was the very last thing she needed. Drawing attention to herself could be disastrous. Besides, it was getting on for six o’clock, and would soon start getting dark, so she needed to get back to her mum. She’d promised to help give her a bath, and…
Realising that she was still putting the moment off, she determinedly pushed open the gate, marched up to the front door and before she could stop herself, firmly rapped the knocker three times.
She realised then that her hands were trembling visibly, and quickly thrust them into her coat pocket. In her head on the way over here, she’d rehearsed time and time again what she would say, but most of it was swept away when the door opened, and there stood Mr Loveday, Trudy’s father. She knew he drove the buses, though not the one she took into work each day.
She forced a bright smile onto her face, and said, somewhat breathlessly, ‘Hello, Mr Loveday. Is Trudy in?’
