Even so, the sheer number of people who were netted by the original investigation suggests these were just the tip of a very big iceberg.
Theme
The story is about deception and explores the masks that people wear in their day to day roles. Every character is dissembling to some degree, and I may be a little cynical but I believe this to be an accurate reflection of real life!
I changed the original title from The Death of Innocence because I discovered a website had sprouted up after I published and I was not happy to be mistakenly linked with their content. The original title relates to Johnny as a metaphor for the loss of childlike innocence, something we all go through. The new title strikes me as equally fitting.
About me
If you would like to know more about this novel or about me, or if you have some feedback, then please head to The Hack website. You’ll also find details of my British crime thriller trilogy, Remorseless (see below) and plenty of other stuff about crime and crime fiction...
Remorseless: A British Crime Thriller Trilogy
‘British crime writing at its best!’
‘Get inside the mind of a psychopath - if you dare...’
‘Really scary!’
Follow Doctor Colin Powers, criminal profiler, and Detective Inspector Jack Carver of London’s Metropolitan Police, as they investigate some of the worst criminals you would never wish to meet!
The first two novels in this gripping trilogy - Remorseless & Mutilated - are available now!
Book three - Gaslighting - is due to launch in May 2017
Register as a Readers Group Member and obtain your complimentary ebook copy of the first novel in this dark, disturbing trilogy, Remorseless...
You can read the opening pages of Remorseless below!
Prologue: The Snake
Peter Leech leaned on the railing and surveyed his kingdom from his vantage point on the top level. His cell was on this floor, the third, and he often stood here as he had no desire to join the sweaty throng in the common ‘association’ area below.
The screws are such lazy bastards, he thought, as he watched three of them chatting, huddled, largely ignoring the forty or so inmates socialising around them. The fat slugs, don’t like climbing stairs unless forced to. He snorted, disdainful but grateful that they only ever bugged his floor when they had to.
His green eyes roved through the bodies, hunting his prey. Cochran. The man watched the TV, giggling like a little girl at some pathetic cartoon. Leech squeezed the cast iron railing, knuckles threatening to burst the skin from the force of his grip.
Come to me, you lanky faggot. Come and dance with the Snake. If you dare.
Eventually Cochran glanced up and their eyes locked. Cochran spoke to the two men sitting next to him, and they too looked up.
Leech ignored them, his attention on Cochran, all his venom focussed on the big convict. Cochran lifted his hand, swept his fingers across his Adam’s apple in a chopping motion, and mouthed, You’re dead.
The Snake continued to hold its prey with its eyes, challenging until the man rose and swaggered to the stairs. He took the steps two at a time, his gaze breaking from Leech only to confirm his two mates were behind him. The flunkies followed, but less eager. Reluctant even.
Cowards.
Leech realised Cochran was unaware how tardy his cronies were being as he clambered up the iron stairs, his soft trainers barely making a sound.
Leech’s peripheral vision was excellent, and though he was fixated on Cochran, he was aware that the guards were still engrossed, oblivious to the burgeoning conflict. Some cons sensed a fight was brewing, but only a few of them dared to gaze up at the protagonists.
Cochran reached the flight below, and grinned as he bounded up the last dozen steps, enthusiastic now, clearly confident that Leech was about to take a beating.
Leech was in a zone beyond fear or elation. He was intent only on his prey. His brain computed, calculated, and he struck.
Cochran had almost reached the top step, his right leg mid-air, searching for purchase, his rear leg stretched two steps below, powering him upwards. Perfectly unbalanced and moving fast.
The Snake was faster.
Leech leapt towards Cochran, a blur of limbs, connecting with his target at a forty-five degree angle. His electric speed, combined with the weight and power of his athlete’s body, delivered a pile-driving punch so swift Cochran had no chance of avoiding impact. This fearsome mass of energy was concentrated and delivered in a bone-splintering blow that connected with Cochran’s temple.
The force literally sent the big man flying. Leech continued moving past the top of the stairs as his victim flipped over the handrail, bounced off the edge of the suicide netting, and plunged backwards down the stairwell, his body hurtling past his two comrades.
Leech was still in the killing zone, everything around him seemingly in slow motion as he speed-walked away, watching Cochran floating earthward, startled, spread-eagled, face-up, mouthing a garbled scream.
He slammed into the first floor landing head first, tumbled down another flight of metal stairs and smashed onto the concrete floor with a resounding thud.
Silence.
And then the roar and near riot as the prisoners realised what had happened. The screws, one blowing a whistle signalling the alarm, scurried to Cochran’s corpse, the blood already pooling round his ruined skull.
Leech, standing several metres beyond the stairway, his back to his own cell, arms folded on the railing, nonchalantly observed the goings on. He was detached. Not a hint of concern anywhere in his consciousness. Intrigued at what would happen now. Nothing more than a curious spectator.
Warders were flooding the floor below, rounding the men up to return them to their cells – early lock up was inevitable. Diarmud was with them, seemed to take it all in with a glance, spotted Leech. His voice whiplashed through the pandemonium. ‘What the hell happened here, Leech?’
Silence, again. Ten seconds passed as Leech eyed the Chief Warder. Then he grinned and shrugged.
‘I’m not sure, Mister Dire Mud. I think maybe he dived down the stairwell head first. Didn’t have him pegged as a suicide but you never can tell, can ya?’ He pointed at Cochran’s two henchmen, dithering on the stairs, visibly unsure what to do now their leader was gone. ‘Ask Headless and Chicken there. They were right behind him. Must’ve seen it all.’
The two cons glanced between themselves, at Leech and then the warder, neither wanting to be first to speak. Snake eyes held them as they considered how to respond.
Diarmud yelled at them. ‘Well? What happened? The truth. Now...’
‘He just dived off, Mister Diarmud...’
‘Yeah, we was follerin him up and he just jumped when he reached the top, like...’
A wag from the floor below quipped, ‘Maybe he thought he could fly, sir. Him doin bird an all.’
Then another, quick to respond added, ‘Nah mate. He just forgot to strap on his fucking hang-glider!’
The cons started laughing and joshing, more facetious comments flew.
Diarmud, his authority sapping, screeched, ‘Lock up! Now. Move...’
The cons were shepherded away, while Leech continued his vigil, well satisfied with the mayhem he had created.
Diarmud climbed to his level. ‘Get in your cell, Leech.’ The warder’s face was scarlet, his neck pulsating, threatening to burst his collar. ‘I’ll be talking to you very shortly.’
Leech shrugged. ‘I’m looking forward to it, Mister Dire... Mud. You should get your blood pressure checked. Look a bit stressed, if you don’t mind me saying.’ His smirk firmly in place, he turned and sauntered into his cell.
***
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The Hunter
Coming late 2017!
Doug and Kate’s new international crime thriller
Discover how Doug and Kate’s paths cross again in this dark action adventure involving human trafficking, murder and conspiracy.
Head over to The Hack website for more information and to register your interest if you would like to be notified of pre-release special offers!
www.thehacknovel.com
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
The Hack Page 35