(continued)

It was just past noon the next day when he arrived in Orleton. By one o'clock he'd found the offices at number 12, Ditchfield Street, and by two o'clock he was talking to Ranford Smith, Senior, one half of the Cholmondely & Smith legal team.
"I'm afraid," said Mr. Smith sympathetically, "that we are in no position to sell you the Greenthorpe mansion. Our position as trustee is clearly made out in Mr. Greenthorpe's will."
"Well, how long can you keep paying taxes?"
"The Greenthorpe fortune was considerable. The interest alone almost pays the tax. But don't despair. If you really are determined, there's one thing you may want to try."
"Yes?"
"We take care of the Greenthorpe fortune on condition that no heir can be found."
"Are you telling me there's an heir?"
"No. If we knew there an heir, he'd be in control of the estate, and you would not be talking to me now. There is, however, a possibility of there being an heir. But you'd have to go to the Carrotus Central Records Office."
"I assume that's in New Carrotus?"
"Yes. There are daily flights from Prestbury, if that's any help."
"It is, thanks. I guess I'll be going home, then."
"Good luck." With that, Tom left. Mr. Smith waited until he could see, through his office window, that Tom was outside. He picked up the phone and dialled Jack Cholmondely's number.
"Jack? Yes. I've just had a young man in here asking about the Greenthorpe estate."
"Did you tell him about the heir clause?"
"Of course I did. We are legally obliged to."
"Of course."
"He's heading back to Greenthorpe now. Just so you know."
"Yes, just so I know. Thank you, Ranford." He put down the phone. Jack's associates would take care of Mr. Bradhurst. The Greenthorpe estate was too profitable to lose.

Susan entered the council chamber. Everyone turned when they heard the door open, then stared as she walked down the central aisle to the leader's desk.
"Not again," said Parker, without any attempt to keep his voice down. Susan reached the leader's desk and handed him the letter. He smiled as he took it. Susan remembered that most of the people in the chamber did like her. But she could tell Parker's eyes were boring into the back of her head.
"Welcome back to the council, Mrs. Bradhurst..." said the leader, and he smiled again, "Susan."
"Thank you," she replied, and turned around. Parker quickly looked away. She walked over to her husband's place and sat down.
"The first order of business," said the leader, "is the Tambleside proposal. Would Gary Parker take the floor?"
"Thank you," said Parker, standing. There was a quick glance at Susan, then he focused on his notes. He continued, "I have been in communication with a prominent Earian company concerning a plan to redevelop the Tambleside complex."
"Oh, really?" interrupted Susan. "Would this have anything to do with the deal my husband is currently working on? The one that would require the demolition of the Greenthorpe mansion?"
"I don't know what your husband has told you, but I've been working on this for a while now. Yes, the Greenthorpe mansion would need to be demolished."
"You didn't even know about it until yesterday, Parker. I'm here because my husband is negotiating the purchase of the mansion."
"The building is dangerous. We have every right to pull it down without any negotiation."
"But the land would still belong to the Greenthorpe estate."

Night was falling. The creeping darkness urged Tom onwards. To his right was a forest, already shrouded in darkness. He would need to switch his torch on soon. He slowed down so that he could access his saddlebag. For a moment, he thought he heard hoofbeats. Then there was silence. He reached into the saddlebag and took out his torch. He switched it on and shone it over the road ahead and behind, then over fields to his left. Nothing. He turned to the forest, but the density of the trees reduced the torchlight to nothing after a few metres. He strapped the torch to his saddle and rode on.
An hour later he was riding through the forest, pitch blackness on either side. He shivered. He tried to tell himself that there was nothing in the woods that would leap out at him. All the same, he rode as fast as he could. But there was something up ahead. As he drew closer, he could see a crude fence across the path. He slowed down. That hadn't been there last night. Had he taken a wrong turning? He reached the fence and got off his horse. Something hit him in the ribs and before he could react he was face down on the road. He looked up and saw three tough-looking rabbits, all dark red. They were dressed all in denim, apart from their leather hoods. They looked ridiculous, but they didn't look like the kind of people who took constructive criticism kindly. Tom tried to get up, but the largest one promptly sat on him.
"Well, what do we have here? A puny rabbit travelling alone at night? Don't you know how dangerous the woods can be?" asked another one. He was missing a large patch of fur on one side of his face. Tom turned his head. His horse had bolted.
"Get off him!" shouted the rabbit. His large companion started to get up, but before he was standing Tom had lept up and floored him with a blow to the back of his head. The other two rabbits shouted and leapt at him, but he dodged out of the way. The only way he could escape was by heading into the forest, but the trees and the scrub were too thick. There was no obvious point of entry. He leapt over the makeshift fence and ran up the road. By the thumping behind him he could tell that all three were in pursuit. The road ahead was long and straight. There was nothing but forest as far as the eye could see. With nothing but moonlight, the furthest the eye could see was not very far. He pressed on. Then he saw it: a small opening between the trees and the ground. A burrow? He dove in. It wasn't a burrow, but it led to a narrow path through the forest. The larger rabbit would be unable to fit through the gap, so he'd only have to deal with two of them. He was starting to panic. He hadn't run this fast for a long time, and he didn't know how long he could hold out. He had no idea where this path was taking him. It started to slope downwards, and he found himself struggling to stay upright. There was a thick root sticking up out of the ground. He tripped. He felt himself rolling down the path, the forest turning in every direction around him. Then there was a searing pain in his head and he lost consciousness.