Wanted (Flick Carter Book 1) (39 page)

‘Not guilty,’ Flick replied.

Dixon made a note. ‘The plea is so entered,’ she said.

Then, turning to the Kingsman seated to her right, she said, ‘The prosecution will now bring its case.’

The Kingsman stood and announced ‘The prosecution brings no evidence.’

There was cheering from the gallery, and Lieutenant Dixon had to bang her gavel several times to restore order.

‘Very well. The defence will now bring its case,’ she said.

The Kingsman seated to her left stood.

‘Ma’am, the defence calls Corporal Daniel Barnes.’
 

Corporal Barnes came and took the stand. After he had been sworn in, the defence lawyer began his questioning. ‘Tell me, in your own words how you came to be involved.’

‘I was part of a squad of Kingsmen that had been dispatched here from Oxford after the initial trial. We were suspicious that coercion had been applied to witnesses, forcing them to give false testimony. After the prisoner had… escaped, myself and Socko–Kingsman Garrett–were tasked with getting to the bottom of what had happened.’

‘Tasked by whom?’

‘Lieutenant Dixon, ma’am.’

‘I confirm that I gave that order,’ Dixon broke in. ‘Continue.’

‘And how did you propose to get to the bottom of what had happened?’ the defence lawyer asked.

‘By examining the scene of the crime and interviewing witnesses,’ Barnes replied.

‘Is it true that you were able to determine how and where the fire started?’

‘Yes. By looking at the pattern of the burn marks on the floor and walls, we were able to determine that the fire started on the first floor landing, close to the staircase to the upper floors and bedrooms. It was started by setting fire to a pile of rags placed on the woollen carpet. Both the rags and the carpet had been soaked in some form of accelerant, probably petrol.’

‘Could the defendant have started the fire herself?’

‘We don’t believe so. For one thing, she did not have access to the accelerant, and there was no trace of petrol or a petrol container anywhere else on the premises. Secondly, whoever started the fire had to have taken the can they’d brought the accelerant in, away with them, since it wasn’t found at the scene, and thirdly, if the defendant had started the fire, she would have been unable to return to the room from which she is known to have escaped.’

‘Thank you. Now, were you able to find a source of this petroleum accelerant anywhere in the town?’ the defence lawyer asked.

‘Yes we did,’ the corporal replied. ‘There were two full cans and one empty can hidden under a tarpaulin in an outhouse at the mayor’s mansion.’

There was a gasp and angry muttering from the gallery. Lieutenant Dixon banged her gavel and called for silence.

‘And now on to the murder victims. Were you able to determine the cause of their deaths?’

‘There were no murder victims. We found no traces of any bodies at the scene, and no indication that bodies had been removed.’

‘But wouldn’t the fire consume the bodies?’

‘Not an ordinary fire like that. You would need something exceptionally hot, and even then there would still be traces: bones, ashes, teeth and so on.’

‘Really? Everyone knows that a fire gets rid of the evidence, surely,’ Dixon interjected.

‘Yes, ma’am. We thought so too at first. But we checked, and it isn’t true.’

‘Checked? How?’ Dixon asked.

‘Well, ma’am, and this was Socko’s idea, we burnt down another house, with a body in it.’

Dixon raised an eyebrow, ‘You did WHAT?’

‘Well, I say body, it was a dead pig, ma’am.’

There was a titter from the gallery, and a comment from the back row, ‘I still want paying for that pig; valuable meat it was too.’

‘Ma’am, the butcher assured us the pig had gone off. It was not fit for human consumption. And it
was
rather smelly,’ said Corporal Barnes.

Lieutenant Dixon banged her gavel. ‘Stick to the point,’ she said.

‘Well, I could of sold it,’ the butcher muttered, and was rewarded with a scowl from the bench.

‘You put the pig into a house and burnt it down?’ Dixon prompted.

‘Yes, ma’am. We used one of the derelicts at the edge of the town. Filled it with loads of scrap wood, then chucked on a can of the accelerant we found in the mayor’s mansion. Then we lit it, well, Socko lit it. If you ask me, he’s a bit
too
keen that lad. Kept muttering something about “experimental crime fighting being the future”. We let the fire burn out, same as the inn, and then we looked. Found the pig, all burnt and charred, but it was still there.’

‘So are you saying the defendant’s sister and father are not dead?’
 

‘No ma’am, I’m not saying that. What I am saying is that there were no bodies in the wreckage. Before, during, or after. As to their status or present whereabouts, I have no information.’

The room erupted in pandemonium. Dixon banged her gavel repeatedly until the room quieted down. Finally, she spoke.

‘The defendant will rise.’

Flick stood, and quietly watched the lieutenant, a serious expression on her face.

Lieutenant Dixon continued. ‘Felicity Carter, on the charge of arson, we find you not guilty. On the charges of murder, we find there is no case to answer. You are free to go.’

Once again the room erupted, and this time dozens of people crowded round Flick trying to hug her and congratulate her as she tried to make her way to the stairs. It was only the intervention of Fred, pushing people out of the way that allowed her to escape.

Flick stood in the square, looking at the burnt out shell of the inn. She’d just got back from Adam’s funeral. Lieutenant Dixon stood next to her. They stood in silence, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

‘Will you rebuild it?’ Dixon asked.

‘Maybe one day,’ Flick said, ‘but first I have to find Rosie and Dad. If they are alive, they are out there somewhere. I need to find them; I owe it to them; I owe it to myself, I owe it to Adam.’

The lieutenant gave Flick a big hug. ‘Good luck, Felicity,’ she said, ‘I hope you do find them. Keep in touch and let me know how you get on.’

‘Okay I will,’ Flick said, ‘but, you know? I don’t even know your name…’

‘It’s Jessica,’ replied the lieutenant, ‘but you can call me Jess.’

Flick smiled.

‘Flick. Call me Flick.’

THERE'S A killer on the loose and he's after the princess. Only seventeen year old Flick Carter stands in his way...
 

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In the small town of Faringdon, a young girl is about to be hanged for a murder she didn’t commit. Kingsman Socko Garret and Corporal Dan Barnes are sent on a mission to save the girl and investigate the crime. But when they arrive, things are not what they expect…

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POST-APOCALYPTIC JUST Got British!

150 years after The Collapse, the Information Age is long gone; the clouds of data that once drove humanity are little more than ash. The few remaining people get by as best they can in their fortified towns, improvising or scavenging through long-derelict ruins. This is the world of the Kingsmen, elite enforcers with the power of life and death, and the Scavs, outlandish scavengers who they say will hunt you down and murder you, just for a trinket.
 

Welcome to 23rd Century Britain.