The Maidstone Conspiracy

The Secret Shepherd Conspiracies Book 3

Genre: International Mystery/Thriller

Amazon author’s page: www.amazon.com/author/jamesosborne

Prologue

Colorado Springs, CO

April 12, 2010

Paul Winston walked from his modest office, down three flights of stairs to street level in downtown Colorado Springs. He inhaled eagerly the fragrant spring mountain air as he headed for his pickup parked nearby.

A few steps from the truck the wealthy entrepreneur and philanthropist felt something slam hard into his back, forcing him onto a parking meter. He grabbed the meter to keep from falling. Unable to hold on, he landed on his back. Paul looked up. A disheveled young man was standing over him; an old-style revolver clutched in his right hand. Smoke drifted from the rust-etched barrel.

Good God! he thought. That son-of-a-bitch shot me!

“What the hell?” Paul tried to challenge his assailant. The words were a garbled wheeze. He recognized the unshaven face but couldn’t quite place it. Paul watched helplessly as the shabbily dressed man raised the antique weapon. His mind demanded that he flee, but his body wouldn’t respond. The gun jumped, then jumped a second time. Paul heard loud bangs as two bullets slammed into his chest with enormous force. He couldn’t breathe.

“Right! That’ll fix you, ya greedy bugger,” he heard the man say. “Bloody well serves you right!”

“Why?” Paul tried to ask, noting the British accent. The word formed only in his mind.

Chapter One

20 Years Earlier

Durham, NC

Paul Winston was studying hard for the last of his MBA final exams at Duke University when his cell phone rang.

“Hello?” he asked.

There was no response. He sensed a presence at the other end, but no sound.

“Hello?” he repeated. “Who’s there? What’s going on?”

There was a muted cry of anguish.

“Oh, Paul!” He heard his sister Emily’s voice cry out, convulsed with grief.

“What is it?” he said, suddenly alert. “What’s going on? Are you all right? Do you need help?”

“It’s Mom!” his sister cried. “It’s Mom and Dad!” she corrected herself. “They’re gone,” she sobbed. “They’re both gone! A crash! Dad’s plane! They were killed, Paul. They’re dead. Oh my God, Paul!”

“What?” Paul said. He struggled to grasp what he’d just heard. “What… what’s happened? How?”

“The plane, Paul. Dad’s plane,” Emily said. “It crashed and exploded. Dad was landing at the ranch… on the airstrip. Mom was with him. George said the plane blew up while landing. He says Mom and Dad must have died instantly. Oh my God, Paul! Can you come right away, please? This is terrible, and there’s something not right about this. I need you, now!”

Paul tried to console his sister while she struggled to share with him the few details available about the tragedy. They sat in silence on the phone for a few moments, then exchanged words of comfort, knowing that nothing they could possibly say would bring them solace. Finally, Paul said, “I’m on my way, Emily. I’ll see how soon I can get a charter and let you know. Are the police there?”

“Yes, they’re here,” she said. “But something’s wrong. I’ll explain when you get here. Hurry, Paul!”

“I’m on my way, Emily,” he repeated, too shocked to think of anything else to say.

Paul called Garrett Aviation at Raleigh-Durham International Airport. He was told a Learjet would be landing soon from a one-way trip. They could get it ready in less than two hours for his flight west across the country. Garrett knew the wealthy Winston family. They were eager to oblige. His next call was to a friend at the Colorado State Patrol. Major Joshua Schroeder confirmed what Emily had told him.

“I’m so very sorry, Paul,” Schroeder said. Paul and Joshua had been buddies through high school. “For what it’s worth, Paul, I will personally see that we do everything we can to find out what happened. Right now, all we have are a lot of questions and not many answers. We both know your dad was an excellent pilot. This doesn’t make any sense at all; it’s very troublesome.”

Paul was at the top of his MBA graduating class at Duke University’s Fuqua School of Business in Durham, NC. He’d enrolled at the request of his father, Ted Winston, a successful Colorado entrepreneur and rancher, after being asked to take over the family’s rapidly growing business interests. At 28, he was the eldest of three children. Both of his sisters were married and pursuing their own successful careers.

During the seventeen-mile taxi ride to Raleigh-Durham airport, Paul tried to shake off the fog of grief clouding his mind. He needed to think clearly. He knew that as the eldest, his two sisters would look to him for leadership through this calamity that had befallen their family.

Chapter Two

Colorado Springs Airport

“This is terrible, horrendous, Paul. I’m so very sorry,” George Underhill said as they met on the apron of the Colorado Springs airport. The ranch foreman’s eyes were red. He grasped Paul’s hand and then put a muscular arm around his shoulder. They walked together into the executive flight terminal building.

“What in the world happened, George?” Paul asked, struggling to hold his composure. “How could this happen? Dad had hundreds of hours on that plane. He’s landed dozens of times at the ranch. This makes no sense! What went wrong?”

“We don’t know yet,” George replied. “People from the NTSB have just arrived. Maybe they can give us some answers.”

“Paul!”

He turned quickly when he heard Emily’s voice calling out. His petite sister was running across the small reception area. She collapsed in his arms, her cries of grief drawing everyone’s attention.

“Oh, Paul,” she said after a few moments, tears streaming down her face. “I’m so glad you’re here! Let’s go home!”

“Where’s Roberta?” Paul said.

“She’s out at the ranch,” she said. “She drove out with Stephen and the kids.”

He wasn’t looking forward to seeing Roberta. There’d been a strain between him and their youngest sister since they’d been teenagers. Paul didn’t understand why, and Roberta steadfastly refused to discuss it. He’d finally decided to just let it go. That wouldn’t be quite so easy now, he thought. Emily grabbed Paul’s arm and began pulling him toward the entrance. Paul glanced back at George. The big ranch foreman raised his right eyebrow and tilted his head sideways, nodding sympathetically.

Chapter Three

Earnscliffe Manor,

Maidstone, England

While Paul’s chartered jet was landing in Colorado Springs, Lord Percival Winston, the 11th Earl of Prescott, was dying. His frail body lay in a huge four-poster bed dominating the master suite at Earnscliffe, a 500-year-old manor house nestled in the picturesque hills of Kent, southeast of London.

“Willard,” he whispered to his second cousin, “It’s time.”

Lord Percival’s breathing had become shallow, but he still managed to whisper a few words from time to time, despite the cancer ravaging his internal organs. He’d ordered all life support disconnected.

“Don’t talk like that, Percy,” Willard said, mostly for the benefit of the few family and staff gathered at his bedside. “You’ll be up and about again before you know it. This is just a setback. It’ll pass.”

Percival managed a weak smile. At 83, he was the eldest of five children. His only surviving sibling, Ted, was the youngest and a rancher in America. Their other brother and two sisters had been small children when they were killed in an air raid during the Second World War. Percy regretted that he and his late wife Mary had been unable to have children. He missed her terribly, the love of his life. She’d died 17 years earlier.

I wonder if Willard has any idea what comes next? Percival thought.

He was aware Willard expected a large inheritance. That wasn’t going to happen. Percy had seen to that. He’d told his second cousin many times that for twenty-five years he’d been living from the inheritance he might have hoped to receive. Percy had grown tired of giving Willard handouts. So, in the absence of a direct heir, Percival had bequeathed the bulk of his considerable wealth and his title to his only sibling, his brother Ted Winston, in America.

Willard had always refused to believe he was not the natural heir, even though being a second cousin put him some distance from the usual lines of succession. He wasn’t about to let matters rest. Secretly, he’d made plans to challenge the will after Percival’s death. Willard could see that he wouldn’t have long to wait.

Percy also had anticipated Willard’s nefarious plans. He’d put in place appropriate countermeasures to neutralize Willard’s greedy intentions. He regretted that he would not be around to see the measures applied. Just the same, it made him smile inwardly. Nor did he know his immense fortune would be inherited by a nephew he’d met only as a small child.

Chapter Four

Two-Dot Ranch, Colorado

Three months later.

“Looks like an avgas leak may have caused the explosion,” the man said. “We’re positive that sparks coming from the starboard brake while landing ignited a gas leak from a fuel line. It caused the explosion that killed your parents.”

Ray Alvarez was not one to mince words. He was in charge of the NTSB team investigating the deaths of Ted and Catherine Winston after they’d died in a fiery plane crash on their ranch west of Colorado Springs.

“We’ve not ruled out foul play,” Ray said.

“Why is that?” Paul said.

“We found evidence the fuel line going into the starboard engine may have been tampered with,” Alvarez said. “The same with the brakes. In fact, CSP is treating this as a probable homicide. The Colorado Bureau of Investigation is also looking at the evidence. We’ll hear back in a few weeks.”

“Are you serious?” Emily said, her eyes wide. “Who would want to harm Mom and Dad? They were just ordinary people … really nice people who went out of their way to help others. This makes no sense.”

“These things rarely do,” Alvarez said as he rose to leave. “I’ll make certain you’re kept informed.”

“Thank you, Mr. Alvarez,” Emily said leading him to the door. “We really appreciate you coming out here with your report. That was very kind of you.”

Alvarez nodded. As the NTSB investigator walked across the wide veranda of the two-story stone ranch house, Emily noticed a brown van coming up the long gravel road from the highway to the ranch. “Looks like someone’s sent us a package,” she said.

A UPS deliveryman jogged the six steps, and across the 20-foot covered veranda. “Sign here,” he said. The strange-looking package was addressed to her brother. It had a regal appearance and

bore a return address in the United Kingdom.

Amazon author’s page: www.amazon.com/author/jamesosborne

Read James’s Interview on this site: https://writeanygenre.com/2026/08/29/james-osborne/