I know this isn't upto the standard of any of the stuff Staley writes but fuckit. i feel lik eposting it up
i might write fiurther adventures in the Maxx Kole series dunno
tell me what you think anyway
all constructive criticism is welcome
As I entered the room the first thing I noticed was the massive pool of blood on the floor in front of me. Lying next to it was one 9mm handgun, one bullet shell, apparently the one that had been used, drenched in blood. I looked around some more and noticed that the window in the kitchen had been smashed. As I looked out I realised that this could not have been the escape the killer had used since we were on the 6th floor and there was no fire escape on this window. I went through to the bedroom but the window in there was locked. “Damn! This just doesn’t make any fuckin’ sense!”
“What doesn’t boss?”
“Huh? Oh it’s you smith. Well the kitchen window is broken, suggesting an exit route but there is no way anyone could have jumped out that window and survived and there is no way to climb up or down out of that window. The only other window in the flat is this one… It’s locked. He or She didn’t get out this way either.”
“But boss… Couldn’t the killer just have gone out the way we came in… Y’know the main entrance?”
“No. If they had gone out the main entrance they would have run the risk of being spotted by hundreds of people on the main road and besides the doorman said no one had entered or left since about three hours before the gunshot.”
With that I walked out of the apartment block and headed back to the station. On the way back I stopped at the drive-thru burger bar and got myself something to eat. While I ate I contemplated the situation and asked myself the one question about this case that just couldn’t be answered.
“If no one left the block before or after the gunshot then it must have been suicide but the gun was not in the victims hand therefore the victim didn’t shoot himself. So where did the killer go after they shot the victim… Out the kitchen window? Impossible. Out the bedroom window? It’s locked. That means he or she must also live in the apartment block… But there are only three people living in the apartment block.”
The apartment block had just been built it was brand new. The man who had been shot was Mark Walters a local hero well known and well liked. Who had made his first million by the time he was 24. Internet business was where all the money was nowadays. He had just bought the apartment block and the apartments were just about all completed. He was the first person to move into the block. The other two inhabitants had only moved in the day before the murder. One was Mary Clarke the owner of a local fashion production company and the other was John Campbell a world famous ice hockey player. Neither of which were likely to have killed Mark.
In a fit of frustration I threw my burger in the bin and spun my car out down the road to the station.
That was when I realised I has been followed. “Shit!” I couldn’t believe this was happening to me. Things like that only happen in movies.
I spun the car round a corner to the right, then left, then right again. Finally I threw the car 90 degrees round into a small alley running towards the station. As I sped down the alley followed closely by a large black Benz I thought of how come when there’s a car chase, there are always empty cardboard boxes lying in the way to go flying up into the air when one of the cars hits them. With that I hit a huge pile of empty boxes throwing them all over the alley and my car. As I approached the end of the alley another black Benz showed up in front of me forcing me to stop… I tried throwing my car into reverse but the first Benz was coming at me fast. I had no choice but to just sit and hope for the best.
Two men climbed out of the second car and approached mines. I rolled the window down and popped my head out in a, “Hi officer.” sort of motion.
With that I felt a massive, “CRACK!” On the back of my skull, for a second I felt like I had been drugged. The alley started to spin and I felt very distant. Almost like I wasn’t actually in control of my own body, like I was standing back watching someone else do they’re stuff… After that I remembered nothing.
The next thing I knew I was sitting in a dump, tied to a rickety chair, watching rain from outside drip through small cracks in the corrugated ceiling. With no idea how long I’d been there, no idea where I was, no idea who brought me there and no idea why they brought me there. It was all just so confusing.
Seconds later a tall man entered the room. He was very well built. He looked like he could probably rip my body into tiny pieces if he wanted to. “Detective Kole, I presume. I have a warning for you.” He grunted.
“Come on big boy. You don’t need to be shy, tell me all about it”, I figured being cocky was the best way to get myself out of this situation.
“Don’t be cheeky in front of me boy!!” he barked as he swung a huge left at my face. As I felt it hit I was reminded of the smack to the head I had taken back in the alley. This was the guy who had knocked me out in one shot. I thought best of giving him any more verbal.
“I, I, I’m s, s, sorry.” I squeezed through the pain.
“You have been told to stay the hell away from the Walters murder. The truth is that he was killed for not taking orders from the same man that you are now taking orders from. So unless you want to be found in the morning with a bullet through your head then do as I say. Are we clear?”
“Y, Y, Yes.”
“Good. All you have to do is make sure that the murder is NOT traced back to my boss and you’ll be fine. We’re gonna let you go now but we WILL be in touch.”
He turned and exited the room. I sat watching him slowly walk out of sight, spitting out my own blood and waiting to be released. About an hour later another man came in. He quickly untied me then picked me up and made sure I was ok. He then led me down the hall to a small changing room area where I was allowed to shower and I was given a new set of clothes… The clothes were the same as the ones all the other guys in this hellhole were wearing, a black, quite expensive suit with a white shirt, black tie and shiny black shoes. The man then led me to a doorway and told me that I could catch a taxi just down the road, “But I don’t have any money.” I exclaimed.
“You don’t need money anymore. That suit is like a gold card. It’ll get you anything you want anywhere in this city.” He laughed.
Then he walked back down the hall. I was left standing in the doorway contemplating my choices.
I could keep the suit and live a life of idleness but I would have to betray my job and become a “bent” cop. I would need to obstruct the line of justice. I could go back to the station throw this suit in the bin and go back to my old life but then I would be killed.
I walked out onto the street and hopped in the first taxi I saw. I then began to think that I could do this one job get them away with this murder. Then I would be free they wouldn’t bother me again I’d tell them I’m in for one job and that’s IT!! Yeah that’s what I’ll do. I also tried to figure out what the big guy had meant by “we’ll be in touch…”
When the cab reached my apartment I got out and went upstairs. I decided the best thing to do now would be to go to sleep and wait for tomorrow.
The next day I got up early and put on my new suit. I got a good breakfast and I felt fantastic. I went into work and into the main office of the “Walters” investigation. I opened up the case file, only to discover that it was an open and shut case. The one man who had hated Mark Walters was his Ex-Business partner Steve Andrews. As it turns out Steve Andrews' fingerprints had been on the gun and his car had been spotted in the area at the time of the murder. They had originally gone into business together in college but Mark ditched Steve because he thought Steve was holding him back. One year later and the idea that Steve had helped to think up had made Mark a millionaire. So Steve had motive.
It would seem that my job had been done for me…
I left the station once again and headed back to the building where I was the night before.
I banged on the door a few times and it opened. The man who answered the door seemed to know I was coming and what for. He led me straight to the room were the big guy was sitting playing cards. I told him the police had arrested and charged a man names Steve Andrews and he seemed happy with that. He then told me there was one last thing he wanted me to do…
That night I sat I a non descript black car with a silenced 9mm pistol in my hand waiting for the guy I wanted. I had been there for two hours already and he still hadn’t showed up. I was told he was due at 7:25 but I should be there early just in case. So I had been waiting since 5:30. I took a quick look at my watch it flashed 7:24:30, 7:24:31, 7:24:32 then I looked back up at the doorway and the street surrounding me. It was all very dark perfect for the kind of job I was being told to pull off. No one would see a gunman in a dark shadow across the road and the street was empty anyway. It was a perfect set up.
Then in the blink of an eye, the guy I wanted was walking out of the shadows across the road. As he approached the door I put one shot in the side of his head. I had been a cop for about 7 years but I had never had to kill anyone before. This was the first one. It was really strange. Everything seemed to go in slow motion. I watched the bullet shoot across the road and smash the man's skull right in his left temple. As the bullet impacted there was an explosion of skull and brain tissue followed closely by a seemingly never-ending rain of blood. With that I started the car and drove over. I through the gun to the ground beside the body and sped off down the road. There would be no cover up for this murder. There wouldn’t even be an investigation. This was a known mafia boss. Don Forelli Head of the Forelli crime family. The police had wanted him dead for years. I just did the boys a favour. I returned to the HQ and the boss congratulated me. He threw a gun towards me and shouted “Standard issue!”
It was a Magnum. These guys carried hand cannons around with them. I slipped it into my holster and walked across the room to the bar. The boss said. “I can definitely see big things for you in the future boy.”
“Yeah, We’ll see.” I replied.
I felt guilty. I hated Don Forelli and I had wanted him dead for years but that’s why I felt guilty. I actually enjoyed killing him. It gave me a buzz like I had never even imagined before. I felt like now I could never tell these guys I wanted to stop because I didn’t want to anymore. I wanted more of that stuff. I wanted to kill more of those assholes. I was addicted, Addicted to Murder.
the first story of this genre i've written.. i normally end up going into sci fi
lol typical... anyway. give me you thoughts on improvment etc
...:::JamiesoN:::...
