For Evil to Flourish

Dubya Ph.D Lorimer

Description

A prominent politician is discovered hanged in a deserted factory. Was it suicide, as it appears, or the work of a group of vigilantes operating in the area? Police detectives Ann Morrison and Ian Hopkins investigate.

Sujets

• Crime
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: eBookIt.com
• Date de parution: 21 février 2013
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781456606756
• Langue: English

Extrait

For Evil To Flourish
 
 
By
 
 
Dubya Lorimer
 


 
 
Copyright © Dubya Lorimer
2012
All rights reserved.
 
 
Published in eBook format by eBookIt.com
http://www.eBookIt.com
 
 
ISBN-13: 978-1-4566-0675-6
 
Please note that this work may not be
copied, resold, or reproduced in any form
without the permission of the author
 

 
This is a work of fiction, and any
resemblance to real events or persons,
other than those in the public domain
is entirely coincidental.
 
 
 
Quote
 
'All that is required for evil to flourish,
in the world,
is for good men to do nothing.'
Most commonly attributed to
British statesman and philosopher,
 
Edmund Burke
1729 - 1797
 
Chapter 1
Navid Sharif was well aware that his little empire was unlikely to ever earn him a knighthood for services to the retail industry. Nor would it cause the manager of the local supermarket to lose much sleep worrying about the competition, but it was enough to provide Sharif and his family with a healthy income. The little corner shop was thriving, despite being on the edge of one of the more run-down estates in the area. It enjoyed a flurry of activity in the morning, with commuters heading for work pausing to buy their newspapers and sandwiches and drinks. Then at lunch time, hordes of schoolchildren would descend on the shop, requiring eagle eyes to prevent the mid-day profits disappearing into the pockets of errant youngsters! In the early evening, tired and harassed workers with neither the inclination nor the time to spend on preparing an evening meal would stock up on TV dinners, booze, and other staples on their way home.
During the mid-morning lull, with trade being a little more sporadic, the shop owner was finding time to chat with the elderly women he was serving.
'The grandchildren are just shooting up! I swear it's the heat out there in Spain. Of course, Gerry always complains that it's too hot,' nodding towards her husband, who was perusing the magazines on the rack next to the door, 'But even he admits that it's helped his rheumatics living there with our Victoria.'
'Is there anything you miss when you're out there?' asked the woman next in the queue, 'Because after a week on holiday, I usually have a craving for a proper bar of chocolate, or a nice bit of cheddar. I know you can get that kind of stuff in some shops, but it's never the same somehow.'
The first woman laughed, and pointed at the bag Sharif was packing,
'Two huge bars of Cadburys! They'll be the first things to go in the case this afternoon when we pack. That and some Marmite and HP sauce for himself,' with another nod to her husband, who was beginning to look restless. 'Where we stay, it's a little bit away from the main tourist trail, and not so easy to get things from home. The first thing we do when we come back here for a visit, is treat ourselves to fish and chips, with plenty of vinegar! Mmmmm. The family think we're mad!'
'Oh yes, I know exactly what you mean!' squealed the other woman, 'Every fancy variety of food you can think of, and you would kill for a real chippy. And my Jimmy, he goes mad for a pork pie with sauce! What about you, Navid, anything you miss when you visit your family?'
'Branston Pickle,' he laughed, 'And Galaxy chocolate...... although not together, of course!'
Their laughter was interrupted by an angry male voice behind them.
'Any chance of getting a bit of service around here?'
The speaker was a youth in his late teens. His scowl did nothing to enhance a thin, acne-ridden face, his chin sporting a sparse, straggly accumulation of hair purporting to be some form of beard. If it was grown in an attempt to make him appear more mature, it had to be classed as a dismal failure.
He wore a tee-shirt adorned with the legend, “Sex Bomb- Handle With Care”. Which implied he was either wildly optimistic, or delusional. His baseball cap identified him as an employee of a local fast food establishment, with a name tag identifying him as “Jason”.
The woman at the till hurriedly pulled out her purse, and started to select notes, before realising her mistake,
'Oh dear, I'm sorry, these are Euros. I've got some pounds here....'
Now flustered, she flipped open another section of her purse, and succeeded in scattering a number of photographs across the counter.
'Great! Let's all spend half an hour looking at grandma's holiday snaps, it's not like any of us have a life to get on with.' moaned the disgruntled Jason.
The elderly man by the door glowered at him from beneath bushy eyebrows,
'Manners cost nothing, you know.'
Jason turned to look at him.
He didn't register the alertness in the eyes, the boxer's nose, the still-powerful build, or the suppleness of his movement.
He just saw an old man. End off.
'Yeah, whatever, grandpa.' was his sneering response.
The first woman had finally handed over the correct money, and bustled quickly out the shop. Her husband continued to linger as the second woman handed over her cash and departed.
Now it was the impatient Jason's turn,and after handing over two pounds, was about to leave when Sharif stopped him.
'Another seven pence, please.'
'What? It's only two pounds in Tesco.'
'This isn't Tesco.' Sharif pointed out.
Angrily, Jason pulled a ten pence from his pocket, and tossed it towards Sharif. The coin bounced off the counter and landed on the floor. The shopkeeper had no intention of giving the youth the satisfaction of seeing him grovel on the floor for it, so without even bothering to look down, he took three pence from the till and held it out.
'Your change, sir.' he said.
'Stick it up your arse, you thieving paki bastard.' was Jason's response, as he headed for the door.
'Thank you sir,' said Sharif sarcastically to his departing back, 'I'll put it in the charity tin.'
Without looking round, the youth held up a hand, with one finger raised, sniggering to himself.
The last thing he expected as he pushed past the old man was an elbow to shoot out and catch him in the midriff.
'WHOOF!'
As he doubled up in pain, the old man made a casual half-turn, cupped a large hand around the nape of his neck, and smashed his face hard against the edge of a frozen food cabinet. Jason howled in agony as his nose exploded, blood splattering in all directions. Satisfied that he had made his point, the old man unhurriedly strolled outside to join his wife.
'Aaaarrgh.... Hellllpmeeegh,' spluttered Jason, 'Geeeegh neegh poleeesh!
'What did you say?' asked Sharif, as he handed him a wad of tissue.
'Poleeesh! Geeeegh hiiiim! He cried, gesticulating wildly after the old man. 'Looogh whaaagh heeegh diiigh, he added, pointing to his nose.
'Police.... why?' enquired Sharif. 'I just saw you hassling two old women, then you seemed to have slipped and hit your face, why would the police be interested?'
'Eeegh?' he spluttered, staring at the shopkeeper in disbelief. He looked around for support, but the only other customer in the shop had developed a deep fascination with the price of baked beans. As it gradually dawned on him that he was wasting his time looking for sympathy here, he swore at Sharif as best he could, then stumbled out the door.
Sharif regarded the bloody mess he had left behind with distaste, then called through to the back of the shop,
'Shareen! Could you mind the till, please, while I clean up in here.'
He glanced up at the camera on the ceiling, and thought to himself that it would be wise to wipe the security tape, just in case that little shit did call the police. The last thing he wanted was to be star witness in an assault case against Gerry Hill. He sighed heavily, and went to fetch the mop.

Julie Ross did a twirl in front of the mirror, admiring her purchases. She had never spent so much money on underwear in her life, but she was loving the look and the feel of expensive silk and lace. She did another turn, more slowly this time, making a critical examination of her body, pinching herself here, and squeezing there, before deciding she was well pleased with the effects of recent months attending the gym. Not too bad, she thought to herself, not too bad at all.
The sound of a vehicle outside made her peek out the gap in the curtains. Allan had just pulled up in his pickup truck. Quickly, she stripped off, returned the new underwear to the bag, and kicked it under the bed. By the time her husband had pushed the bedroom door open, she was back in familiar bra and pants, matching only insofar as many trips through the washing machine had given them a uniform shade of pale grey.
Seeing her bend over to pull on a comfy pair of jogging pants, he wolf-whistled, and gave her a playful slap on her behind.
'Behave yourself!' she admonished him, but smiled and gave him a welcoming peck on the cheek as she straightened up. 'The kids are just through there, and dinner's nearly ready, so forget it! Don't be too long with your shower.'
After slipping on a clean tee-shirt, she headed downstairs, with just a quick glance to check that the Victoria's Secrets bag was out of sight beneath the bed. It's contents were not intended for Allan's eyes.

Gavin Ward was enjoying a peaceful and dreamless sleep before being rudely dragged from the arms of Morpheus by his wife digging her elbow in his ribs. It took a second jolt to produce a noticeable reaction.
'What!'
'There's somebody outside.' she whispered.
It was a warm evening, the window facing onto the rear garden was slightly open, the curtains moving lazily in the slight breeze, but despite straining his ears, he could hear nothing.
'Are you su..... Ouch!' He received another dig in the ribs.
'Shsss!' she hissed.
Suddenly, he heard it, a tell-tale scraping, and a familiar metallic rattle. He recognised the sounds.
'It's the ladders, someone's trying to steal my new ladders!'
Suddenly wide awake, Ward headed for the window and threw open the curtains.
'What the bloody hell!!!'
He found