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Diamond looked round slowly. Nothing seemed to have changed. He had been prepared to find changes – you could never tell with Maxwell – but everything seemed in order. There had been an odd smell in the foyer, that was all. He couldn’t quite place it, it was nagging at his memory. It brought back thoughts of his first years of teaching, when he was fancy-free. It was a Proustian madeleine of a smell. He sat there, smoothing his desk, smiling at Maxwell.
‘You seem to have done a good job, Max. Thank you. I’ve heard … good things. Yes, very good things. Thank you.’
‘Don’t thank me, Headmaster. It was a pleasure. It really, really was.’
‘Shall we walk round the school?’
Maxwell clapped him on the shoulder. ‘I would only be in the way,’ he said. ‘I’ve got to get back for Nole, anyway. Enjoy your tour.’
Diamond got up slowly from behind his desk and walked into the foyer with Maxwell. He sniffed. ‘What is that smell? It takes me back, but I can’t place it.’
Maxwell breathed in through his nose, extravagantly. ‘Can’t say I’ve noticed it, Headmaster.’ He turned for the door. ‘Bye, now. See you next week.’ And he was off, down the steps and round to the bike shed with a good turn of speed.
Diamond still stood there, sniffing. His brain cells were finally catching on and they sent him a message. Chalk! He could smell chalk! By the time he reached the first classroom along the corridor and beheld the blackboard, in all its dusty glory, where once an interactive white board had hung, Maxwell was almost too far away to hear the scream.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The weather on that Balaclava Day was perfect. In a clear blue sky, fluffy clouds scudded high and fast. The leaves were beginning to turn and, once in a while, one slowly spiralled to the ground to add its gold to the worn stones and smooth green of the country churchyard. From inside the church, a quiet, lone voice could be heard.
‘… I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.’
Henry Hall looked fondly as the groom did just that. He had been delighted to accept when Maxwell had asked him to be his Best Man, during the mad weekend of the Leighford Ripper, as he had got used to calling him. He looked around the church and caught the eye of the other witness, Sylvia Matthews, fighting the lump in her throat. They fell into step behind the happy couple as they walked down the aisle and were ready with the confetti, strictly forbidden in a notice in the porch.
Sylvia nudged Henry and he shrugged. ‘So, sue me,’ he said. ‘I’m a policeman. I say what goes.’ And he threw handfuls of horseshoes and hearts over the couple.
‘What do you think Jacquie’s mother will say when she finds out about this?’ Henry asked, as he took Sylvia’s arm gallantly as they walked down the path away from the porch, where the vicar stood in the doorway, his back to the empty building, a tear in his eye. It had been a lovely service and they seemed such a nice couple. You’d have thought they would have more friends.
‘I dread to think,’ she said. ‘But bags I’m the one to tell her!’
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About the Author
M.J. Trow has recently retired as a history teacher – he has been doubling as a crime writer for twenty-one years. Originally from Rhondda in South Wales, he claims to be the only Welshman who cannot sing or play rugby. He currently lives on the Isle of Wight with his wife, also a writer. His interests include collecting militaria, films, the supernatural and true crime. He is the author of the Inspector Sholto Lestrade series and fifteen non-fiction books. Maxwell’s Revenge is the fourteenth novel featuring Peter ‘Mad Max’ Maxwell.
By M.J. Trow
THE PETER ‘MAD MAX’ MAXWELL SERIES
Maxwell’s Match
Maxwell’s Inspection
Maxwell’s Grave
Maxwell’s Mask
Maxwell’s Point
Maxwell’s Chain
Maxwell’s Revenge
Maxwell’s Retirement
Maxwell’s Island
Maxwell’s Crossing
Copyright
Allison & Busby Limited
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London W1T 6DW
www.allisonandbusby.com
First published in Great Britain by Allison & Busby in 2009.
This ebook edition first published in 2013.
Copyright © 2009 by M.J. TROW
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All characters and events in this publication other than those clearly in the public domain are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent buyer.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 978–0–7490–1366–0