{"id":260138,"date":"2026-07-13T17:28:07","date_gmt":"2026-07-13T14:28:07","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/father-pat-burden-1\/"},"modified":"2026-07-13T17:28:07","modified_gmt":"2026-07-13T14:28:07","slug":"father-pat-burden-1","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/father-pat-burden-1\/","title":{"rendered":"Father – Pat Burden (1)"},"content":{"rendered":"
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\u2018I\u2019ve warned Mabel we\u2019re coming. She\u2019s cooking steak and kidney and cottage pie.\u2019 \u2018I can smell both,\u2019 Bassett said, sniffing overtly. Not for landlady Mabel the modern craze for container food and microwaves, she cooked the old-fashioned way and her customers loved her for it. \u2018I said we\u2019d eat outside,\u2019 Andy said. \u2018Why not?<\/p>\n

Sun\u2019s shining.\u2019 Mabel called out as they approached the side door. \u2018The usual, gentlemen?\u2019 The usual, please, they replied. Their pints of old ale were drawn by the time they got to the door. \u2018Steak and kidney or cottage pie?\u2019 Mabel said. \u2018Cottage pie. Same for you, Andy? Make that two, Mabel. Say in ten minutes\u2019 time.\u2019 At the table: \u2018Mouth\u2019s watering,\u2019 Bassett said. Andy grinned and spread out a road map.<\/p>\n

\u2018Julian Pugh-Talbot. In his original statement he said he\u2019d driven from Oxford, stopping off at the Black Swan for an hour, guvnor. It checked out OK until my fine-tooth combing picked up the direction he came from.\u2019 He traced the route on the map. \u2018From Oxford he\u2019d have come Cheltenham, Gloucester, or\u2014see\u2014Tewkesbury. The A417 Or 438. He didn\u2019t\u2014he came in on the B4214, look. The opposite direction. The direction he would have taken if he\u2019d come from Briony House.\u2019 He folded the map.<\/p>\n

\u2018I went to the Black Swan, then to see a few of their regulars, and came up trumps. Seems he passed the pub heading for home, returned fifteen minutes later, then he stayed till eight. Phoned his girl from the pub, overheard saying he\u2019d be late, his mother had urgent business to discuss. \u2018He came into the station this morning, looking for you, matter of fact, sent by his mother. I said I didn\u2019t know why you wanted him, but I\u2019d found a discrepancy needed straightening out.<\/p>\n

He was puzzled, couldn\u2019t understand why his doings on Friday night should have anything to do with the deaths on Saturday, but he\u2019d answer the question. He said he drove past the pub in a dream, woke up and turned round. When I pointed out that wouldn\u2019t have cost more than a few minutes, he said he stopped and fiddled with his car stereo.\u2019<\/p>\n

\u2018Why bother, if he was going to the pub?\u2019<\/p>\n

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Photoset in Linotron Baskerville by Rowland Phototypesetting Ltd Bury St Edmunds, Suffolk Printed and bound in Great Britain by Harper Collins Book Manufacturing, Glasgow. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.<\/p>\n

OceanofPDF.com Blurb Rebel Priest and Teenager in Death Tryst, the headline read. The evidence seemed to bear out that a double suicide had actually occurred, but when an appeal for help brought ex-Detective Chief Superintendent Harry Bassett on to the scene his friends Inspector Bob Greenaway and Sergeant Andy Miller weren\u2019t complaining. Once they put their three heads together, the evidence soon began to look flimsy. Who was the dead girl\u2019s mystery boyfriend whom she claimed she could never marry, 1f he was not the priest? Who was the father of her unborn child.<\/p>\n

Were they one and the same? Bassett uncovers the tale of a love that is anything but life-enhancing and pits his wits against a clever murderer, who isn\u2019t quite clever enough. OceanofPDF.com By the same author BURY HIM KINDLY WREATH OF HONESTY SCREAMING BONES OceanofPDF.com Chapter 1 When Bassett overheard the words \u2018Priest and a Slip of a Girl\u2019 spoken in the hushed half-malicious, half-gleeful tones of a gossip, he felt sorry for the hapless cleric, whoever he was, poor man.<\/p>\n

Probably the victim of his own innocence, spotted in what gossips of a certain kind might choose to call \u2018suspicious circumstances\u2019. It was one o\u2019clock on a sunny if cool September day. Bassett sat alone at a table for two in the garden of the Pheasant, Oakleigh\u2019s village pub. After the No Drink If You Drive campaign had threatened his livelihood the pub\u2019s landlord, Archie Wood, had started to serve bar meals, and Bassett had taken to ambling along once or twice a week to \u2018partake\u2019.<\/p>\n

He had finished eating, a Ploughman\u2019s today, and had been thinking idly that the cheese, pickle and hot crusty rolls had been so delicious he wished he had them to savour all over again, when the voice from the next table impinged upon his thoughts. The \u2018Slip of a Girl\u2019 did it. \u2018Priest and a Girl\u2019 might have washed over him: just a re-hashing of another kiss and tell story.<\/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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