Novel: The Thistlewood Curse Chapter 1

A detective and her paranormal consultant suspect supernaturally assisted murder after the sudden heart attack of a Lord’s son on Lundy Island

Hello everyone. For all you massively appreciated paid Substack subscribers, I’m serialising my supernatural thriller novel The Thistlewood Curse just for you throughout the next few months (this won’t be on Medium). Expect one chapter per week, but to get you properly addicted, I’m published the first three chapters today. Please let me know if this is something you enjoy, as I may well serialise other novels on Substack for your reading pleasure if so. I might even preview novels here before they are published on ebooks or in paperback, if there is enough demand for it.

Created by author in Canva.

The Thistlewood Curse: Chapter 1

In spite of the peculiar circumstances surrounding the death of Jacob Price, Detective Sergeant Laura Buchan had all but convinced herself there was no foul play. That he died as the result of a bizarre accident had become the accepted version of events for her and most of her colleagues. Only the senior investigating officer, Detective Inspector Ethan Roland, had any further inkling that Price’s demise was in any way suspicious.

Laura kept pinching the bridge of her nose in a nervous reflex. The questioning of her lifelong friend and occasional colleague Lawrence Crane should have been mere formality; an interview that would establish beyond all doubt that he had no involvement in Price’s death. But Roland kept treating him like a criminal. No doubt he considered his actions thoroughness, but Laura thought he was just being rude. Through the two-way mirror Laura watched as Roland continued to question Crane in the interview room.

‘Are you glad he’s dead?’

Lawrence Crane leaned forward and stared for a moment at the mirror. His eyes met Laura’s and although he could not see her, she experienced the familiar sensation of discomfort, as though she were standing before him naked. His gaze seemed darker and colder than usual, no doubt because he didn’t suffer fools gladly, and Ethan continued to behave like one.

Crane returned his piercing, steel blue stare to the Detective Inspector sitting before him. Although his back was turned, Laura could imagine the dogged, determined expression on Ethan Roland’s face. He had a stocky, bulldog build that intimidated most people he questioned. But Lawrence Crane was not most people. He replied with an icy calm.

‘Obviously I’m glad he’s dead.’

‘Obviously? Seems a little out of character for you. Normally you’re all cold detachment, but this case… seems to have wound you up a bit.’

‘Why don’t we drop this charade, Roland? You know what he did as well as I do. If you were honest, you would admit that you also are pleased this world has seen the last of Jacob Price. He was an evil man.’

‘I thought you didn’t believe in evil?’

‘In the Biblical sense, no. But I do believe in trying to make the world a more agreeable and fair place to live. Jacob Price ruined thousands of lives through his financial misdeeds. He was also responsible for murdering his ex-wife and making it look like an accident. The fact that you were so imbecilic in your contamination of evidence at the trial meant he walked free.’

‘That I admit was unfortunate.’

‘Unfortunate doesn’t begin to cover it. Still, as you say, it would seem the Fates have determined that Jacob Price pay for his crimes.’

Roland nodded slowly. ‘A gruesome and unusual accident, to say the least.’

‘But nonetheless an accident.’

‘So how do you account for Price’s final words?’

Crane sighed. ‘How should I know? Perhaps he didn’t like me. Perhaps he wanted a measure of revenge by trying to frame me for his death.’

‘I want to believe that, but the problem is I’ve heard the recording of Price’s emergency call. Even if he was mistaken, that man was genuinely convinced he could see you in his kitchen as he lay there dying. Why was that?’

Crane shrugged. ‘A hallucination?’

‘But why was he convinced you had killed him? His exact words on the recording are: It was Crane. Lawrence Crane murdered me.’