Having yesterday finished writing my book The Ramblings Of A Silly Old Man I am feeling withdrawal symptoms. At the week-end I will begin editing this book aiming to have it published by the middle of the month.
As part of our Lent project for The Food Bank I plan to resume work on my book The Fantasies Of A Geriatric DJ but I can not start work on that until the Food Bank project begins on 25th February.
When I went to bed last night and woke up this morning I was suffering withdrawal symptoms, I want to write something.
What am I going to do ?
About a year ago I started to write another chapter for my book The Case Files Of Dave McDermott, started to write then threw it aside.
I wrote the original book after running a bit of a fun survey asking people what was their favourite genre of reading. When the answer came back as crime fiction I decided to give it a go. I very much enjoyed writing the book and I hope readers will find that my style is very different from the traditional crime novel.
Below are the initial scribbling for that chapter in the next case file of Dave McDermott. I am thinking to to make this another chapter for an existing book but to start again and make it a novel in its own right. That means I am going to need to come up with 70,000 to 80,000 words. The Ramblings Of A Silly Old Man worked perfectly well at just under 40,000 words but this has to be longer.
The Lottery Of Evil is a story about retaliation against criminal drug dealers, retaliation in different measures from
What do you think ? Could this work ?
In the past I have always written for fun but now I am writing to make money. Once The Ramblings Of A Silly Old Man is published I want to find someone who will work with me to market it and make money, money to fund and advance the projects within THE SUNSHINE SMILE CREW.
Yesterday I had a fantastic meeting with a senior police officer to discuss drug crime in Milton Keynes, we got on so well and were of such similar character.
I am frustrated and angered by the lack of interest within our greasy pole climbing blind politicians. I would like to find a magic wand, wave it and eliminate drug crime at a stroke but that just will not happen. It may be the biggest single crime in Britain today but police resources simply can not scratch the surface.
Talking with my new friend that senior police officer yesterday we were in total agreement on two issues.
ONE - the addict is the victim and needs public sympathy and support.
TWO - the only way to stop drug crime is to get the public to understand what is happening,
If The Lottery Of Evil could become an Amazon Best Seller then we would not only have a lot of money to spend on our projects but also we would be starting to raise public awareness.
Could I do this ?
Could we do this ?
I would write this book and share its development here on blog entries as I did with The Ramblings Of A Silly Old Man but I would need feedback which did not happen before. I know two people who I am going to ask to help me, would you help me.
The first step is to make a plan for the writing. I normally keep my plan in my head but I am going to write it down, follow it and adapt it as I go along. I will probably rip up the notes below but use them as the starting point for the plan.
Have a read and see what you think.
THE LOTTERY OF EVIL:
There were six of them. Their total ages added up to one hundred and sixty-eight. An average of twenty-eight years.
He put his hand into the bag and pulled out a number, the first number in the lottery of evil.
“Number two. The Duke. Fetch Him.”
Detective Inspector Dave McDermott stroked the side of his temple as he thought. He ran his tongue across his upper teeth to help him put the words he wanted to say into the right order. He then gave a faint grin or was it a frown ?
“Is this a major incident ?”
“It could be. It is a murder so it could be classed as a major incident. I hope it is just a murder.”
“Then why - ?”
The Chief Superintendent held up a hand to stop his junior colleague. He respected McDermott, he had unique skills as a detective which were needed here. “Inspector Bishton having suddenly resigned I think this case would be better handled by your team.
“With respect Sir, this is a gang killing, one less dealer on the streets. I don’t see how that make this a major incident.”
Mr Y unlocked the cage, pointed a gun and indicated for The Duke to crawl out then stand up. The others looked on.
With The Duke’s prison cage now empty Mr X passed it by then stood slowly in front of the other five, one by one in turn glaring at the occupant. “We are going,” he said, “to remove the tape across your mouths so we can speak with you. You will need to eat and to drink but The Duke here will demonstrate to you what will happen if you abuse the privilege or refuse to obey immediately each and every order Mr Y or I, Mr X, give to you.”
The Duke felt the muzzle of the gun touch his naked buttock. The pain was only exceeded in magnitude by the deafening sound of the explosion echoing round the room. The tape across his mouth prevented The Duke from screaming in pain. He felt the two other shots, he heard them but there was no pain. His mind momentarily began to race and then it was still.
“Three wounds, Inspector,” the pathologist said. “This is probably the first or it could be the second. Entry into the flesh of the buttock, I would have expected the bullet to have lodged in the pelvis, strange that, I’ll know more when I open him up and find the bullet from the third shot. Turn him over.” He nodded to the two male attendants.
“See, here’s the exit wound.” He pointed to the groin. “I am surprised the pelvis did not halt the bullet’s progress. As you can see it missed his manhood which would not have been a lot of use to him following the third and fatal shot.”
Dave McDermott’s professionalism did not appreciate the attempt at humour.
“The second shot, if I am right in their order, was to the left bicep entering from the rear and exiting straight away. He would have fallen forward and to his right from that first shot to the buttock. Judging from the exit wound I think his arm was held up when that shot was fired.”
“Was he naked during the attack ?”
“Most certainly, there are no signs of fabric fibres in any of the wounds.”
Dave nodded. As he viewed the naked body it was obvious beyond doubt this murder was drug related. Not that he needed the needle marks as evidence.
“He was turned over for the fatal shot. I am thinking the fatal shot did not kill him instantly, again I will know more and can give you my full report once I have opened him up. I very much doubt death was instantaneous, he would have been unconscious but I bet it took more than an hour for him to die.”
One less addict. An estimated two hundred and seventy thousand addicts in England and two and a half thousand drug related deaths during the previous year. But this was murder. Why kill and addict, a customer ? Many reasons, Dave would need to uncover the motive if he was going to find the killer. Unofficially there was no political will to solve drug related crimes, that was no doubt a frustration to Inspector Bishton and his team. Perhaps the powers that be had given Inspector Dave McDermott this case to change the apathy pf those politicians. But the one and only exhibit found at the scene made it clear the victim was more than an addict.
Pete wanted to scream but dared not. He wanted to avert his eyes but feared if he did so the same fate would, indeed would, befall him. What was going to be his fate ?
What would be his end ?
“He does not have a criminal record,” Dave said to the team, “but he is known to us – so they tell me anyway.”
He pointed to the post-mortem image on the board. “Graham Jones, age thirty-six, suspected of being a drug runner but intelligence has not recorded any indication as to who he was delivering drugs for. A user.”
Dave considered fact that ex-Inspector Bishton had more in his head and memory than was recorded on the computer.
“There will be DNA on the one item found with him but I am not optimistic.”
“Do not fear,” Mr X sneered, “the next winner in our lotters will not face quite that drama. We will wait twenty-four hours before deciding who that lucky winner will be.”
“They may be able to tell us the make of the printer used but that is not going to be a lot of help. DNA ?Don’t get your hopes up. The note has been laminated. If they can lift the laminate there may be something but I doubt it. Lucky number one in the lottery of evil. May you be consumed in the fires of hell.”
“A drug related murder ? A gang killing ? He was a user and he was a runner.”
Dave nodded. “But this is just a runner, such a brutal killing does not make a lot of sense although by instinct is telling me this is a revenge killing.”
“He was not killed where he was found.” The team brainstorming continued.
“Apparently not. Cleverly dumped in a car park adjacent to the canal as it runs north of the town centre. No cctv anywhere close but then the 999 call to tell us he was there.”
This was a drug gang killing, one gang moving to take over the operation of another. Put the gang out of business by taking out the runner to scare off the others. But what about the notice ? Lucky number one in the lottery of evil. May you be consumed in the fires of hell.”
“Who did this Graham Jones, the Duke, work for ? Who else does the dealer have working for him ? If there is a lottery and The Duke was number one who will be number two, three, four, more ? Dave knew that most dealers ran their operation with several runners across the day. He needed to speak with Inspector Bishton.
“No idea where he is.”
“But Sir I need to speak with him.”
“He said he was taking a year abroad. I am not sure how much money he inherited, a few million I believe, so the police service and a pension are no longer of any interest to him. I get the feeling he did not enjoy his job.”
“Well I wish he had left us the content of his mind before he left.”
Dave cast his mind back to his first case, he was a mere detective constable then. The first victim of serial killer Timothy Ford. There was a similar brutality. Ford had a motive, a justifiable motive if such existed, could there be a similar motivation ? No, the killing of The Duke was more straightforward.
One by one they were moved from their cages at gun point. Use the toilet, take a shower, those who needed a fix were given it, a glass of milk and a slice of bread before being locked up again.
“You ! You are not going back,” X said to Skinny Pete. “You are lucky winner number two in our lottery of evil. Prepare to receive our prize”
Seventeen year old Skinny Pete went white with fear.
“Do not worry, you are not going to die. This will hurt but you are not going to die.”
Y approached him then with a total lack of skill in the art of tattooing. He carved I am a drug dealer down the length of each arm, on his forehead and across his chest.
I am not a drug dealer, Pete was screaming inside his head. I do not use drugs, I do not sell them, I am only the guy who delivers them. I am innocent and now I am going to die just like the other one.
“The medics have looked you over,” Dave explained. “Your bottom is a bit of a mess but it’s nothing that did not once upon a time happen to every schoolboy in England.”
“I am a schoolboy,” Pete explained. “I was only doing what I was doing to get money for university. Now look at me ! My arse is on fire and I have tattoos all over my body.”
“Tattoos can be removed, it will hurt a bit but it can be done.”
“Can’t hurt as much as my arse is hurting right now.”
Dave smiled trying to reassure the lad. “So which university are you going to ?”
“Aston in Birmingham, if I get my grades.” He then added, “And if I go not get sent to gaol.”
“That is not going to happen. You are not here under arrest but as a witness. We need to get you some proper clothes to wear, tell your family you are safe and then put you into witness protection.”
“I want you to get the two who did this to me then I want you to get the dealer who set me up for it all. I am only an errand boy you know. There’s another four errand boys waiting.”
“Sergeant. get Peter some clothes, time to get hi out of this plastic suit then we’ll send out for a takeaway. What do you fancy ?”
“Fish and chips.”
The call came in before the food arrived. That call announced the third victim in the lottery of evil.
Victim number three, how many more would there be ? Pete had suggested a total of six so three sown and three to go. Dave McDermott had worked at learning how to delegate and stop trying to do everything alone but he could not stop holding all case information inside his own thinking.
“Sir, we have three separate cases, I believe there will be three more if we can not get to the bottom of everything. I am asking you to second the officers in ex-Inspector Bishton’s team to my team. I would like to assign a sergeant and a constable to each of the three cases we have while I will oversee the entire major incident with my own bagman,”
“So you admit this is a major incident ?”
“Yes.”
“Three victims, you and your bagman, that’s eight people. What are you going to do when victim number four comes in ?”
“We need to solve everything before that happens.”
The Chief Superintendent doubted the case could be solved in such a time frame but if there was an officer within his command in whom he had the utmost faith it was Detective Inspector David McDermott.
So it was that Detective Inspector Dave McDermott becae head of the combined drug and major incident team with Sergeant Ripley as his bagman assistant. Sergeant Toll was put in charge of victim one, The Duke. Sergeant Mather, Skinny Pete and Sergeant Richards the new victim number three.
Dave laughed as Sergeant Susan Ripley explained. “Susan Ripley became ripple, became raspberry ripple, became Raspberry so Sergeant raspberry reporting for duty Sir.”
“I am sure you will make a great bagman, I mean bag lady,” Dave giggled. “So let’s take a look at what we have.”
