{"id":251954,"date":"2026-07-13T01:39:24","date_gmt":"2026-07-12T22:39:24","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/an-old-fashioned-coup-richard-laws\/"},"modified":"2026-07-13T01:39:24","modified_gmt":"2026-07-12T22:39:24","slug":"an-old-fashioned-coup-richard-laws","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/an-old-fashioned-coup-richard-laws\/","title":{"rendered":"An Old Fashioned Coup – Richard Laws"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Faraday would be devastated, thought Charlie. However he brightened a little when he realised that if Sam had his way, Cool Blue would be declared a non-runner on Saturday, perhaps as little as an hour or two before the Lincoln, allowing Sam to pile every ounce of possible pressure onto Mick Kowalski to reveal\u2026 well, to reveal what, if anything, Mick knew about Laurie Lewis\u2019s death.<\/p>\n

\u200bCharlie curled his lip and leant a hand on his cheek, elbow on the car door window frame, disgruntled at the thought of Mick Kowalski. He\u2019d already shown he wasn\u2019t beyond bending the truth, and what was there to stop him constructing any old story he fancied in order to placate Sam? How would Sam know? Sam had told him in no uncertain terms that he would know when the truth came from Kowalski\u2019s lips.<\/p>\n

Charlie wasn\u2019t so sure, he had the impression Sam was only after one storyline; the one that confirmed Mick Kowalski had been instrumental in his brother\u2019s death. \u200bCharlie felt his phone buzz against his hip displaying a number he didn\u2019t recognise. He sent the caller to voicemail, grimacing at the amount of missed calls, voicemails, texts and WhatsApp requests he had unread. \u200bGraham Sutton met him as he climbed the stairs to his first floor office. It was intentional; his boss had been waiting for him.<\/p>\n

\u200b\u2018A word, please, Charlie,\u2019 he said in greeting. \u200bCharlie tried hard not to roll his eyes. Instead, he traipsed upstairs behind the Managing Director and followed him into his office. Graham waited by the door and closed it behind Charlie. \u200b\u2018I have some good news,\u2019 Graham began.<\/p>\n

\u200bCharlie remained silent. He came to a halt besides Graham\u2019s enormous mahogany desk and waited. He had a feeling he already knew what this so-called good news was going to entail. \u200b\u2018Samuel Lewis called me this morning.\u2019 \u200b\u2018Really? That\u2019s\u2026 unexpected.\u2019 \u200bGraham curved his eyebrows downwards slightly at this response, but released them quickly and continued, \u2018He\u2019s offered us the chance to take over the Lewis\u2019s advertising account. It\u2019s worth about thirty million a year. That\u2019s significant turnover.\u2019<\/p>\n

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for Mum and Dad First published 2019 by Five Furlongs \u00a9 Richard Laws 2019 978-1-9164600-5-8 (EBook) This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher\u2019s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author\u2019s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.<\/p>\n

Any resemblance to actual persons or organisations, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. 1kitap1.com\/en ONE July 2016 \u200bThe Scotswood Bridge towered into the night sky above him as he emerged tentatively onto the riverside footpath and stared eastward in the early hours of Sunday morning. The moon was bright tonight. It could have lit the scene beside the River Tyne without assistance. Streetlights also cast their glare onto the A6085 every fifty yards, a ribbon of yellow dots which stretched into the city.<\/p>\n

\u200bThe dog sniffed the tarmac as he crossed the deserted dual carriageway. A recent rain shower had brought forth pungent and aromatic new smells to the morning. Above him, a lorry rumbled across the bridge and caused the stray mongrel to stop in the centre of the road and glance up into the concrete columns. \u200b The car weaved erratically as it approached. Engine noise came to the dog too late. Streetlights and headlights merged and reflections bounced off the wet surface. Momentarily dazzled, the dog tensed, unable to decide in which direction he should bolt.<\/p>\n

His own eyes also reflected the light and the approaching engine noise soon ceased, blocked out by screeching brakes and tyres tearing as friction bit into them. \u200bThe car left the scent of burnt rubber as it slid past the stray, careering over a curb and into the riverside bushes.<\/p>\n

It mowed the light shrubs down, skidding and gouging furrows into the earth before striking upright black posts on the edge of the riverbank. The dog scampered off the road, picking its way up the embankment, away from the sound of a human shout. \u200b A metallic clang was followed by the sound of scraping. A human scream forced the dog to pause at the crest of the banking. He turned, flicked his ears forward, and peered curiously into the half-light.<\/p>\n

Only the rear of the car was still visible, hanging over the edge of the manmade riverbank, caught on the remains of the railings. There were more human noises, but the dog was losing interest. He turned and was soon slinking away through undergrowth, placing distance between him and the smell of rubber and petrol.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.<\/em><\/p>\n

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