Official Town Business (Fox & Oakby Murder Mysteries Book I)

Ahoy, Matey!

Imogen sat on the small old sofa of hers. Seeing the Mayor take the only other appropriate piece of furniture in the room - her Grandmother's armchair - was surreal. 

He was taking so much room and looked so out of place that Imogen discreetly pinched her hip. The apparition of John Thomas Crispin Oakby in her tiny living room didn't waver. And then he started talking, and Imogen stuffed her daft romantic thoughts at the back of her mind and focused on his words.

"The contract with the Americans, the one we signed - my Father has found the proof that it's a scheme." The Mayor sighed and rubbed his forehead in his usual stressed gesture - long fingers straight and tense, his thumb pressed to the hollow on his temple. "The company had done it several times by now, there is clear evidence. After they go through with swindling yet another country clot," the Mayor spat out self-deprecatingly, "they rename, rebrand, and repeat." His lips twisted in a grimace. "First, they start on whatever contract they've signed, then sudden 'financial overruns' and 'technical difficulties' start. Immediately, they lay off the local workforce. Then the project starts sinking, and the contractors back off, out of the project. And then a new offer is made to the client. Another company is invited, for less money; and as I was told, generous payoffs are offered to the officials involved."

Imogen opened her mouth to holler that she was certain he would never even consider such preposterous offer - but he shook his head, stopping her. She bit into her lip and let him continue.

"The new project is always slightly less environmentally friendly, a bit less sound, the materials are dodgy... and then the costs overflow, and yet another sudden offer pops up." The Mayor's voice was growing increasingly venomous. "A chain of American supermarkets would come into Fleckney Woulds and bud in. They would help to complete the bypass at a small expense of sticking one of their disgusting monstrosities on the motorway between us and Abernathy."

Imogen sank her teeth into her bottom lip harder. He wasn't looking at her, his unseeing eyes fixed on her stripy rug. He then fisted his hand in front of his mouth, and squeezed his eyes.

Imogen wanted to rush, and reassure, and comfort - but she knew that there was nothing she could say that would make it better. He had made that decision, he had ordered her to organise the contract, he had approved it. And the contract was bullet-proof, that much she was sure of. There were no loopholes, no little cracks through which their poor little town could weasel out of what was promising to become the greatest calamity modern Fleckney Woulds had ever encountered.

"I considered retiring from my post," the man to Imogen's right muttered, "but I think it'll be a better punishment for me if I stay through all of this."

"You can't retire!" Imogen exclaimed, and he drew his eyebrows together. "You can't!" she repeated. "Besides the fact that I don't think you need to be 'punished,' I'm sure that you will stay and fight! And even if it all goes down in flames, you'll stay to do your best and make it easier for your people! We need you!"

"I let 'my people' down." His voice sounded pained. "I let you down. If only I'd asked my Father for his counsel then, at the very beginning—"

"You had no reason to!" Imogen folded her hands in a begging gesture. "John! There was no indication that the contract was iffy. Your lawyers confirmed it. It went through all the proper checks!"

"And yet my Father's shady connections allowed him to figure it out," the Mayor gritted though his teeth. "He was right! I'm an 'incompetent boy who pretends to be a king of his little kingdom.'"

"Your Father is a heartless lonely man who is incapable of appreciating his children!" Imogen unimpressively thumped her fist to the balding upholstery of her sofa. "You're a great ruler for our 'kingdom!' You made a mistake, but just as you've just said, several other towns had gone through the same. Clearly, the Americans knew what they were doing!"