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      Hector Trogg’s Perfect World

      by P. A. Booth

      Copyright © P. A. Booth 2014

      Cover photography by J. S. Hayes.

      The right of P. A. Booth to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

      All rights reserved; no part of this publications may be reproduced or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright holder.

      All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

      First published in Great Britain in 2014

      Abas UK Ltd, Beech House, 48 Eastfield Road, Barton-upon-Humber, North Lincolnshire, DN18 6AW, England, UK.

      Published in eBook format by Abas UK Limited

      Converted by http://www.eBookIt.com

      ISBN 978-1-909745-00-1 (hardback)

      ISBN 978-1-909745-01-8 (softback)

      ISBN 978-1-909745-02-5 (audiobook)

      ISBN 978-1-909745-03-2 (ebook)

      MORE IN THIS SERIES

      Hector Trogg: Fell Heights

       fellheights.com

      Hector Trogg: Fell Deeds

       felldeeds.com

      For Jenny

      CHAPTER ONE

      Flight

      Hector Trogg looked from the little that remained of his father’s car to the tall policewoman stood in front of him.

      ‘It wasn’t me!’ was all he managed to say, although he realised it sounded a little feeble.

      ‘Well, of course it wasn’t you dear,’ said the policewoman. ‘Eleven-year old boys don’t have access to explosives.’

      ‘Don’t think he hasn’t asked,’ muttered Kate, Hector’s thirteen-year old sister.

      ‘There’s another person coming to talk to you and your Dad and Mum, they’ll explain it all,’ said the policewoman kindly.

      Kate furrowed her brow and then shook her head.

      ‘Dad will do his nut; he polishes it almost every day; it’s almost new,’ Kate announced.

      ‘Do you think Volkswagen will give him a new one, it is under warrant?’ asked Hector.

      ‘The word is warranty, Hector,’ said Kate, unkindly, ‘And given that one of the wheels is in the farmer’s field next door and one of the seats smashed through Mrs Urwell’s lounge window, we will be hard-pressed to claim that the car was hit by a sudden bout of very aggressive rust.’

      Kate was like that; clever, but annoying.

      An hour or so later they were all sat in the kitchen, as this was one of the few rooms that had not lost any of its windows. A fat man with a nasal voice was explaining that it was all related to the inheritance. Just two weeks earlier Kate and Hector had been amazed to find out that several million US dollars had been left to them by a distant relative in America called Irvine Deeds. The money was in a trust fund, and they were not allowed to spend any of the fortune until they were twenty-one years old.

      It seemed as though the money had been left to Kate and Hector so as to upset all of Irvine Deeds’ closer relatives, who had expected to receive the money themselves. The fat man explained that while Mr Irvine Deeds had gone to great trouble and legal expense to ensure that his will could not be challenged in the courts, he had forgotten to be clear about what would happen if Kate and Hector were both murdered. There were a large number of Mr Deeds’ relatives scattered throughout the world, and any of them might be behind the attack, the fat man explained. From now, until they were twenty-one, they were at great risk.

      ‘Brilliant!’ exclaimed Hector. ‘This will be really exciting.’

      ‘No, it won’t!’ complained Kate. ‘We could be killed!’

      ‘No. Whoever tried to kill us made the bomb beep as we got into the car. I’m sure they are going to give us a sporting chance,’ explained Hector.

      The fat man groaned and put his head in his hands. ‘The problem is,’ he explained, ‘your father’s side of the family, I mean Mr Deeds’ relatives, are...’

      Hector and Kate looked puzzled.

      ‘Well, they are diverse,’ the fat man went on.

      Hector and Kate continued to look puzzled.

      ‘They come from a wide variety of backgrounds,’ the fat man tried again.

      Hector and Kate looked even more confused.

      ‘I think what Detective Inspector Smithson is trying to say,’ said Dad with a sigh, ‘is that quite a number of my more distant relatives have not led blameless lives.’

      Hector’s look of puzzlement grew even more extreme, but Kate worked it out.

      ‘They’re crooks,’ Kate explained.

      ‘I’m afraid so,’ said the Inspector. ‘Big ones, and your trust fund is worth millions, although quite how they really hope to get their hands on it I don’t know.’

      Hector’s unshakeable belief that everything would turn out alright meant that he had a good night’s sleep. Kate fell asleep worrying. The following morning things got even better, at least from Hector’s perspective.

      The police had raided a flat and discovered more plots to murder them, while a man walking his dog had fallen into a large hole that turned out to be the start of a tunnel someone had been digging under their house. Both Kate and Hector were kept off school for the day in a house full of workmen and police. By 10am Hector had broken the controls on a police car when the officer allowed him to play with the lights and the siren.

      Hector was pleased it was the officer who got a good telling off, not him. When the Inspector had finished shouting, he informed Hector, Kate, Mum and Dad that they needed a sudden holiday. Apparently, some of their inheritance could be used for this sort of thing, and so Dad hired a plane and a pilot.

      ‘Brilliant! I can’t believe it. Dad’s hired a plane! I hope I get to fly it, or at least be the rear gunner,’ Hector said, as he ran around the room in excitement.

      ‘You don’t hire a plane, Hector, you charter one,’ said Kate in her most annoying voice, ‘and of course there won’t be a rear gunner’s seat.’

      Hector did not even bother giving his sister a shove. Today had been brilliant fun, and tomorrow they were going on a surprise holiday, missing school for another day.

      The family spent a frustrating evening in two bright, clean but small hotel rooms. The rooms were joined, which did little to ease the sense of confinement. Kate felt as if they had been sent to prison; a feeling heightened by the presence of two armed police officers in the corridor. For Hector, this just added to the excitement.

      Hector’s next day was even better, because the plane did have a rear gun, as well as guns at the side. Kate looked sour; annoyed that her brother had been correct. Mum and Dad looked flabbergasted. Mum kept asking the pilot how old the plane was, while Dad just looked dumbfounded at the propellers attached to the giant engines. Hector suspected that he had not yet noticed the guns.

      The pilot explained that the plane was usually just flown in air shows, except for a recent trip to Africa for something more exciting. The charter company

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