Red Lentil Soup

Robert Ferguson

Description

A criminal consortium of mind-control specialists stole Bill and Laura McKenzie's individual and collective liberty for benefits only known to them, by employing psychological agents that altered their behavioural outcomes; then there was only one way to fight back. They learned to share their personal reality and conscience with complete strangers - collaborating with them - to prevent the group from spreading corruption, mayhem, and madness when facing a complicated world of deceit at every turn.Even in death, Laura McKenzie held connections between the dead and the living. She actively worked both in the past and present, searching for a memory key lying dormant in a serial killer's mind, a memory that would unveil the truth.But who can be trusted?

Sujets

• Thriller

Informations

• Publié par: Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd
• Date de parution: 30 novembre 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781398443402
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

Red Lentil Soup
Living in Another Person’s Reality Is the Holy Grail of Mind Control!
Robert Ferguson
Austin Macauley Publishers
2022-11-30
Red Lentil Soup About the Author Dedication Copyright Information © Acknowledgement Chapter 1: The Funeral Chapter 2: Losing Laura Chapter 3: Bill’s Childhood Chapter 4: Meet Finlay McColl Chapter 5: Arran Honey Chapter 6: Laura’s Childhood Chapter 7: The Marriage of Bill and Laura Chapter 8: The Wonderful Flight Chapter 9: Bill and Laura’s Honeymoon June 2000 Chapter 10: Yacht Inspection Chapter 11: Return to the Phoenicia Chapter 12: The Meeting Chapter 13: The Apartment Chapter 14: The Roseburn Pub, Edinburgh The Present Day Chapter 15: The Previous Day, Wednesday, 18 July 2012 Chapter 16: The Art Deal Thursday Morning, 19 July 2012 Chapter 17: 1 Hour After the Bomb Explosion Chapter 18: The Edinburgh Apartment The Present Day Chapter 19: The Flight to Malta Chapter 20: Archbishop Street, Valletta Chapter 21: Laura’s Files Chapter 22: Al-Jdayde, Aleppo 21 August 2015 Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 6 --> Chapter 23: Valletta The Present Day Chapter 24: Flightover the Med Chapter 25: HMP Edinburgh – High-Security Prison The Present Day Chapter 26: The Valletta Apartment The Present Day Chapter 27: Turkey The Present Day Chapter 28: Valletta The Present Day Chapter 29: HMP Edinburgh The Present Day Chapter 30: Aleppo Chapter 31: Bill’s apartment, Valletta Present Day Chapter 32: Escape from Aleppo The Present Day Chapter 33: Flee from Syria Chapter 34: Disclosure in Malta Chapter 35: Escape Aleppo, Syria April 2016 Chapter 36: Valletta The Present Day Chapter 37: The Oncidium Orchids Germany and Malta The Next Day Germany Malta The same day, 12.30 Eventual Reality. The Final Image Germany The Same Day and the Same Time -->
About the Author
Robert lives in Alloa, Scotland, with his wife Lorna; dog Ziggy; cats Roxy, Jake and Doowood. He has a son, Jamie; daughter-in-law, Gemma; granddaughter, Maya and grandson, Cooper. He is the writer of the classic Christmas tale, I’ve Got Jesus in the Back of My Taxi!
Dedication
To, Cooper Judd Ferguson, for being my wonderful grandson.
Copyright Information ©
Robert Ferguson 2022
The right of Robert Ferguson to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.
Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781398443396 (Paperback)
ISBN 9781398443402 (ePub e-book)
www.austinmacauley.com
First Published 2022
Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd ®
1 Canada Square
Canary Wharf
London
E14 5AA
Acknowledgement
Special thanks to, Issa Touma, for granting permission to use his unique and brave film, 9 days: From My Window in Aleppo in my book. The film details the nine days Issa spent holed up in his apartment filming the Aleppo war that surrounded him. Issa is a director of art festivals, a curator and director of Le Pont arts organisation. He is a renowned photographer.
Iain Overton,
Thanks to, Iain, for his assistance on explosive devices and supplying information on the after-effects of such devices. Iain’s acclaimed book, The Price of Paradise , is a must-read and informative in detail.
Hotel Phoenicia, Malta.
Thanks to Hotel Phoenicia for giving permission to use their beautiful hotel as a home-from-home for my characters. It’s a superb hotel and a firm favourite.
Special thanks to:
David Abernethy, HMP Edinburgh
The Pub, Valletta
Trabuxu, Valletta
Café Cordina, Valletta
The Cramond Inn, Cramond
Presbyterian Churches in Edinburgh, Aleppo and Valletta
The Isle of Arran
The Atholl Hotel, Dunkeld
The Dunalastair Hotel Suites, Kinloch Rannoch
The City of Edinburgh
Pitlochry and the Village of Moulin
The City of Aleppo
The beautiful island of Malta
Rhineland-Palatinate region western Germany
Agenda bookshops, Malta.
For his advice and knowledge of Malta law, I am grateful to Dr James Scerri Worley.
I would like to thank Leslie Vella, from Kappara Malta, for permitting his wonderful image of the Triton fountain in Valletta as the front cover. Leslie also helped with Maltese transliteration on many occasions. Thank you, Leslie. You are a gem!
For her fantastic artwork, used as the back cover image, I thank the talented Scottish artist, Jo Lockie.
Special thanks to Jamie Sharp for his guidance on the legalities of the Scottish Legal system.
Chapter 1 The Funeral
Graveside, Dean Cemetery, Edinburgh. The present-day. The month is June.
The day was overcast. The minister, a small, pot-bellied figure, sporting an almost ridiculous white, grey, comb-over—which hoodwinked no-one—cleared his throat before speaking.
‘Earth to earth, dust to dust, ashes to ashes,’ he intoned while keeping his eyes firmly closed and resting his clasped hands over a small, black leather-bound Bible, which sat fittingly on his bloated belly.
The preacher looked content, knowing this much-rehearsed routine had once again been delivered well, correctly worded, professionally served and brightly articulated. His physical performance included an elaborate rocking movement. Swaying to-and-fro on his toes, head tilted to heaven, the purist minister replayed this automatic graveside sermon from memory and notably at each funeral he attended. God belonged to the minister, and though he taught the word of the Lord, you could not have him! God belonged to him!
It was a well-rehearsed graveside service by a dutiful vicar who had devoted years of service to his white Presbyterian God, his biblical God—an older man with bushy silver-coloured hair, donning a long grey beard and wrapped in a flowing, seamless white robe.
This was one ability he offered to any bereaved family of the Scottish faith. Professional but boring , Bill believed.
Bill heard a few recognisable religious soundbites, as he liked to call them: We have gathered here today , was one ever-present funeral element he had witnessed at his parents’ memorial service. And subsequently: Jesus said, I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me, though he dies, yet shall live, and whoever lives and believes in me will never die . Then finally, the predictable and ultimate religious ending— Amen!
The minister opened his swollen eyes after finishing the standalone service at the site of the burial plot.
Bill McKenzie was a life-long non-believer; his late wife Laura a sober, trendy, committed Christian, who regularly attended church, wherever her travels took her. When religion was the main discussion, Bill would use the same atheist quote to get his sceptic point across. If you could reason with people who believe in God, there would be no people that believe in God .
It was two weeks past that Bill and Laura McKenzie were involved in a severe and fatal accident; near their home in West Coates central Edinburgh. A Jaguar E-Pace SUV driver purposely drove on the wrong side of the road, aiming to hit them. Powering indifferently and erratically in the direction of Bill and Laura on their bicycles.
Bill, noticing the vehicle, reacted immediately. Gripping and pressing both handbrakes tightly, his sudden halt hurled him over the handlebars, away from the car. He tumbled, violently, attempting to land by the tuck-and-roll method a professional cyclist would use, but it didn’t work. He was knocked out cold. His spontaneous reaction prevented a full impact with the Jaguar and possibly mitigated severe injury. His recently purchased e-bike slid back onto the road and was caught under the skidding front wheel. The bike received more damage than he did.
Regrettably, the car caught Laura full-on, with a violent, forceful impact that catapulted her helpless, doll-like body over the vehicle roof and threw her down solidly, headfirst on the pavement—a few yards from where the car would eventually stop. As Bill regained his senses, the SUV driver was restarting the engine, intent on departing the scene of the crime. The engine started and the wheels spun burning rubber as they gained traction on the wet, greasy ground. The car sped away.
Driving skilfully, the heartless executioner avoided oncoming traffic as he drove north up Magdala Crescent; just a few yards from Bill and Laura’s new Edinburgh home.
Burnt-out remains of the car were later discovered at Eagle Rock near Drum Sands, not far from Cramond, a village and suburb in the north-west of Edinburgh. The vehicle involved in the accident was stolen. The identity of the driver was never discovered.
Bill gradually regained consciousness. As though his body was rebooting, his eyes blinked open, and his eyelids twitched and shuddered.
Getting progressively stronger, although sporadic pain surged through his tender body, he made an extreme effort to move nearer to Laura. Crawling uncomfortably through the anguish of each hurtful movement, reaching a foot or so from his wife, he screamed tearful words: “Hang on, help is coming. Everything to live for…hang in there! Laura, help is on the way…”
Blood trickled from his nose and a small laceration appeared on his forehead.
He was too late.
The ambulance was too late.
Everyone was too late.
Laura was gone.
She was pronounced dead at the scene.
Laura would now meet her God.
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