"You
and your ilk think you're all so mighty. But you're no better than the shite
you're sitting on. You're all full of it!"
Tears
ran over the bruises on the woman's cheeks as he ranted at her.
"You're
a filthy, whimpering, bitch! What are you?"
She
bowed her head.
"
Look
at me when I'm talking to you."
She
held up her head.
"Now
what are you?"
"I'm
a filthy..."
"Yes?
You're a filthy what?"
Snot
ran into her mouth as she said, "I... I'm a filthy... whimpering,
bitch..." Her throat tightened for want of a sip of water. She needed to
wipe her nose.
His
laughter filled the room.
"Please,
could I have a drink of water?"
"Oh,
madam would like to quench her thirst?"
"Please?"
"And
how about something to eat? You must be hungry. No?"
"Yes."
The
man pulled a pair of rubber gloves from his jacket pocket and slipped his hands
into them. He then moved to the back of the chair.
She
couldn't figure out what he was doing but when he stood in front of her again
he smiled. She gulped at the sight of what he had in his hand. Her heart
pounded.
"Open
your mouth."
"Please
don't..." Her brow furrowed.
"But
you're hungry. Right? You said you were hungry. Now open your
mouth
.
Wide."
Eyes
stinging, she opened it, and the wider she did so the more her already-chapped
lips cracked.
"Yes,
your kind are full of it."
He
moved closer and shoved a handful of faeces into her mouth.
"Now
chew and swallow it!"
Between
gagging and sobbing, she consumed her own filth.
He
looked at her pubic area. "You really are a filthy bitch." He removed
the gloves and tossed them on the floor.
Between
bouts of hysterical laughter, he continued shouting obscenities but his words
seemed jumbled to her already confused mind.
Still
very much amused, he turned and walked towards the ladder.
Oh,
thank God he's leaving.
For a moment, she closed her tired eyes, but when
she opened them he was on his way back. It was then she noticed the metal bar
in his right hand.
Oh,
God, Is this the end?
"You
disgust me!" He shuffled closer.
Covered
in goose-bumps, and teeth chattering, she peered up into the evil, black, eyes
angrily eating through her flesh.
"
Did you hear me?
"
"
I
…
I don
'
t understand.
What have I done to deserve this?
"
she mumbled, through cracked,
soiled lips.
"I
have had
enough
, you stuttering, smelly, bitch."
The
bar raised, the woman
'
s piercing scream filled the tiny room,
but her screams were lost in his madness. The bar crashed down and in one blow
smashed her skull wide open. Her life
'
s blood ebbed away.
He
continued hitting her as images of his childhood ran through his crazed mind.
Strike after strike, he punished her, unaware that her last breath had
left
her body five minutes before.
Satisfaction
overwhelmed him.
A
large saw lay in the cellar corner, and as though about to reach an orgasm, he
grabbed it and positioned it on the woman's lifeless neck. Back and forth, back
and forth, he pushed it, faster, faster, and as he cut through the tendons and
bones he clenched his teeth until her head fell onto the floor.
The
third person had silently observed the proceedings and stepped out from the
shadows.
Turning
to look at her, he could tell by the way her face lit up, she was pleased with
the precision and the eagerness of his actions.
"The
first part of the puzzle is now in place," said the man.
"Yes,
and we both know there's no turning back, now."
"Yes.
This is just the beginning..."
Here’s the first
chapter of Impeding Justice.
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0045UA6F0
http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0045UA6F0
Chapter
One
At the sound of
helicopter blades whirling in the distance, Detective Inspector Lorne Simpkins
leaned over the steering wheel and peered at the sky. She couldn’t see the
chopper, but judged it to be hovering beyond the towering buildings which
bordered the Thames to her left. She imagined the armed response team crouched
inside it, guns locked and loaded, waiting for her call.
If this tip-off
turned out to be good, precious minutes would be lost getting the team to her.
For the millionth time she rued the fact that she and Pete couldn’t carry guns
on these missions. Fucking politics.
They drove past
the alley for the second time, still quiet, nothing suspicious. She eased the
car to a standstill. Pete shifted uncomfortably in the seat next to her, she
turned and asked, ‘Nervous?’
‘No. As usual
the dry cleaners sent these trousers back to me a size smaller than when they
went in…’
‘Yeah, right,
Pete. The fact you’ve gained about a stone lately, wouldn’t have anything to do
with them shrinking, I suppose?’
‘Hey, it takes a
lot of calories to keep my shape, you know. Besides, I eat more when I’m
stressed and these wild goose chases don’t help.’
‘Let’s hope this
one’s for real and we finally nail the bastard.’
‘Twenty quid
says it’s another Brixton?’
‘No thanks. Take
the far side of the alley, get into position and stay put until I give the all
clear… Christ, Pete, fasten up your bullet-proof, and start taking this
seriously, will you? If it turns out to be another dud lead, so be it, but…’
‘The bloody
thing gives me indigestion, squashes me in like a fat thigh in a stocking, I’ve
had a bigger one on order for yonks. One of the vest-type that fastens at
the side, but...’
‘Look, zip up
and shut up, ‘cos if this is for real, we’ll be sussed before we get out of the
car.’
Lorne took up
her position, leant forward and surveyed the long, narrow alley. The stench of
urine and the rotting, fly-infested waste, spewing from overturned bins tinged
her nostrils. She motioned the all-clear to Pete and waited for him to dash
across to the other side, before checking the alley again and giving the
thumbs-up.
They picked
their way along the graffiti-stained walls. A skinny dog, hunting for its next
meal, growled at them, but hunger won over conflict and he grabbed a chicken
carcass and made off with it. Lorne released the breath she’d been holding and
mouthed to Pete, ‘Anything?’
‘Not a fucking
dickie bird, if you’d taken up the bet, I’d be twenty…’
A crack split
the air. Pete slumped to the ground. Horror, held Lorne rigid, as she saw his
bullet-proof fly in all directions.
Oh no, Pete, no! You didn’t do the
bloody thing up.
His body jerked
as he took another hit. Lorne bent over, making herself as small as she could,
to cross over to him, but a sting vibrated off her face and spun her to the
ground.
She swallowed
back the rising panic and delved into her inner resources. Everything by the
book, Lorne – make the call. Grabbing her radio she said, ‘Back-up
needed…OFFICER DOWN.’
The sound of the
helicopter changed from a distant hum to an urgent drumming and its blades
chopped the air faster as it sped towards them.
Pete groaned.
Thank
God, he’s still alive
… But, he needed her help. Another spray of bullets
echoed down the alley. Dust and rubble jumped into the air. Lorne looked
around, desperate to find a way of getting to him.
Behind her, a
large, steel, rubbish bin stood just inside the backyard of one of the shops.
Its contents bulged out of the top, but the wheels looked in good condition.
She positioned it between her and the gunman, more bullets ricocheted off the
walls and the ground. Some hit the bin. Splinters of plastic bottles, tin cans
and debris showered her, but her shield held good and she made it across to
Pete.
His throat
rasped as she ripped his shirt open. A ragged hole in his stomach and a wound
near his heart put the fear of God into her.
Shit...this is bad.
After whipping
off her jacket, she removed her blouse, tore it in half then used it to plug
the holes. Her hands trembled when she pressed on the wound.
Bullets rained
down around them. A tyre blew on a nearby delivery van. Sweat poured from her,
Jesus,
where’s the bloody response team?
‘Lorne…’ A cough
stopped Pete’s croaky voice. Blood trickled from his mouth.
No…Oh, please,
God…Let us both get out of here alive…
‘It’s too late,
Lorne…I’m….’
The tears she’d
held back trailed down her nose and dripped onto his chest.
‘Don’t try to
talk. Everything’s okay. The team is on its way…’
‘It’s… It’s
not…’
‘Look, you
idiot. I’m the boss around here. If I say…’
‘I…I’ve
got…I…must tell…you…’
The helicopter
swooped into the air space overhead and hovered above the building where the
shots had come from. Two officers slid down ropes and landed on the roof. ‘Stay
where you are, don’t move.’ A voice ordered through a megaphone.
‘Like
we’re…planning on…going anywhere…’
Pete’s dry,
cracked lips stretched into a half smile. She smiled back at him appreciating
his attempted humour. ‘How’s the pain, Pete, is it bad?’
‘It’s
nothing…Listen, I…’
The whine of the
ambulance siren joined the racket of the helicopter. The gunfire had ceased.
Had The Unicorn escaped again or had they finally caught him? She hoped it was
the latter.
She sat back on
her legs. An officer on the roof gave her the thumbs-up and the helicopter
moved away. For a moment the chaos descended into an eerie silence, then a bin
crashed behind her. She turned and saw two officers kicking at rubbish and
throwing bins to one side. The ambulance crew followed just behind them, laden
with equipment and a stretcher.
Thank God…
A smile of hope
froze on her lips as she looked down at him. Pete’s head rolled to one side. A
throaty breath gurgled from his lungs. Through half-closed lids he looked up at
her. Staring but not seeing her. Everything that had been Pete fell into an
expressionless waxy mask.
The cold lining
of her jacket around her shoulders chilled her as strong hands helped her to
stand. She didn’t resist. Standing to one side, she stared at the paramedics,
willing them to revive him, then she heard the words she’d been dreading. ‘Dead
on arrival at the scene.’
With an officer
on each side supporting her, Lorne stepped into the ambulance. She sat up and
watched them load Pete’s covered body into a second ambulance.
It pulled away,
not bothering to use its siren. A paramedic tended the wound on her face,
cleaned her bloody hands and injected a phial of something into her arm.
She did little
to stop the tears flowing. She thought of the information relayed to her as she
left the scene. The Unicorn had escaped. The bastard had been a thorn in her side
for too long and now he’d taken from her, her dearest colleague and friend.
Every nerve and sinew of her body screamed its hate and her need to take her
revenge.
As she drifted
off into a drug-induced sleep she repeated the same words over and over again...
I’ll take care of things Pete. I’ll get him, I promise…’
This is the
first chapter of the sequel
Final Justice
.
http://www.amazon.com/Final-Justice-Simpkins-thriller-ebook/dp/B004OEKFYO
http://www.amazon.co.uk/Final-Justice-Simpkins-thriller-ebook/dp/B004OEKFYO
Chapter One
A Chateau in
Normandy
September 2009.
A smug satisfied smile stretched across
Baldwin's handsome but menacing features as he surveyed his lavish
surroundings,
se
lf-congratulation exuding from every
pore. Tonight would be all about him, his ability to manipulate others, as
months of meticulous planning came to fruition.
A couple of the
scantily clad girls, all of Eastern-European extraction, giggled in the corner.
He scowled at them when he realised they'd been helping themselves to the
potent punch, intended for his esteemed guests.