by J. D. Weston
"Status?"
"In custody," said Harvey.
"And a wheel chair for the rest of his life," finished Melody.
Frank raised his eyebrows and looked between Harvey and Melody.
"It'll be in-" began Melody.
"I'd suggest we leave the details out of that if need be," said Frank.
"Next?"
"Roger," said Denver.
“Roger?”
“Murray’s accomplice.”
“Status?”
“Deceased, sir.”
“The fireball?”
“Yes, sir.”
Frank wrote deceased next to Roger’s name.
“Next?”
“Murray.”
“Status?”
The team were silent.
"Aha, yes, that one was my bag. The big fish. My quarry." Frank looked smug. "Nice to know I can still bag 'em when my team's off stealing helicopters, boats and BMWs."
"Well done, sir," said Melody, smiling.
Frank wrote In Custody, beside Murray's name on the board.
“How many boats, helicopters or cars did I steal to catch him?” he asked.
The team didn’t answer.
“How many explosions did I cause to catch him?”
Silence.
"Good, that's what I like to hear." He turned and smiled to let them know he was playing. "Okay, so hostages. We haven't had a hostage case for a while."
"Eleven girls were freed, sir," said Melody. "Saved."
"Good, reports from forensics say they found four bodies buried behind the farm. Plus one in the house, and it looks like the girls will point the finger at Murray for a free lift home to wherever it was they were from."
The team were smiling. Melody looked around her, they were a bunch of misfits, but she felt at home with them.
"Good work, team," added Frank. "I might add that, if we do plan on commandeering any mode of transport in the future, we run that decision by me beforehand? It'll save a lot of explanations."
"Yes, sir. We are sorry, sir," said Melody.
"What about Stokes and Narakimo?" said Harvey.
Frank raised an eyebrow and turned to Reg.
"Reg, can you-"
"Yes, sir. Work with the local units and bring them in."
"Thanks, team, that’s not a bad result. Messy, but still a good result," said Frank, drawing a circle around the list of outcomes on the board. I want all your reports in by close of business."
Denver stood. “Sir,” he began, “the VW, it’s pretty much f-”
"We need a new van, Cox, do we?" Frank cut him off.
"Yes, sir."
"I might be able to help there." All eyes fell on Harvey, who lifted his rucksack from the floor and threw it to Frank.
Frank caught it and winced at his fingers that weren't broken but were still sore. He looked at Harvey questioningly.
"Should I be concerned?"
Harvey didn't reply.
Frank unzipped the zipper and looked inside. He tipped the contents of the bag onto the large table at the head of the room. Bundles of bank notes fell out the bag and piled high across the surface.
"How much?" asked Frank.
"Three hundred grand, give or take."
"Three hundred thousand pound?" Frank sounded surprised.
"Give or take."
Frank paused, then, "Stone, can you take a walk with me?" Frank began to bundle to cash back into the rucksack.
"Do I have a choice?"
"Stone," replied Frank, "haven't I always given you choices?"
21
Deal with the Devil
They stood side by side and leaned on the railing beside the river. The air was frigid and Frank's jacket flapped in the wind that ran across the choppy water.
"We had a good result," said Frank, "much of it was down to you I hear."
Harvey didn't reply.
"Your an asset, Stone, I want you on the team. You've come a long way. I want to take you further."
"Further?"
"From your past."
Harvey didn’t reply.
“You had unanswered questions. Are they behind you now, Harvey?” It was the first time Frank had called Harvey by his first name.
“We all have questions, Frank.”
“But you needed answers, some of us move on, some of us get over it.”
“My sister killed herself, Frank. Did you expect me to move on and get over it?”
“No, part of me understands.”
“Part of you?”
“My wife died three years ago. I still don't understand.”
“I never knew.”
“Nobody does,” said Frank.
“What if you knew somebody out there had the answer? Would you look for it?”
"Maybe, Harvey. Maybe not. We had many years together, my wife and I. So many good times." Frank gazed across the water. "It took a long while for me to move on, to get over the bitterness and to enjoy life again."
"Do you enjoy life, Frank?"
"No, not really, but I appreciate what we had. It doesn't really matter what happened now or how she died or by whose hands, nobody can take those memories away from me. They're mine."
"We're all different."
"Yes, we are, aren't we? Especially you, Harvey. I've met some cold bastards in my time, ruthless killers."
"I probably knew them."
"You probably did, in fact, you probably killed some of them too in your past life."
"Maybe, I didn't make a list." The truth was that Harvey didn't need a list. He remembered the faces of them all.
"You have a quality, Harvey. You're a talented man, like I said, an asset. But you have this good within you. I've tried to find the word before, but there isn't one. You're not a bad person. People like a man who stands up for society’s weaker members."
"I'm not sure where this is going, Frank. If you want me, I'm back on the team. But you need to take the noose off." The mention of the word noose sent vivid images of the basement into Frank's mind.
"Noose?"
“Yeah, noose. I can’t have the threat of prison hanging over me. You can’t expect me to jump with both feet if my head’s in the noose.”
Frank sighed. "You're right. But I can’t take the noose off until I know you've left your past behind, Harvey."
Harvey didn't reply.
"You still have questions, don't you? You're still seeking answers."
"My whole life has been a lie. One big web of deceit. How would you feel?"
"I'd feel angry I guess."
"I'm past angry, Frank."
"I understand."
"Do you? Where were born, Frank?"
"Near Edinburgh."
“And your parents?”
“Frank and Carol Carver.”
“Are they alive still?”
“No, they died a long time ago, Harvey. They led a very quiet life. My father was a farmer, he didn’t earn much, enough for them to get by.”
“Old age?”
“Yes, peacefully in their sleep, both of them.”
“Nice.”
“You could call it that.”
“What if somebody told you one day that all that was a lie? That everything you’ve ever been told about them had been a lie.”
“What do you mean, Harvey?”
"There never was any Frank and Carol Carver near Edinburgh, and they didn't die peacefully in their sleep."
“I see.”
“Do you?”
“You want the answers?”
“I’ll find the answers, one way or another, Frank,”
“So the noose stays on does it?”
“If the noose stays on, I keep one foot out.”
“What if I helped you?”
“Help me? Do what exactly”
“Find the answers, Harvey. Us, the team. We have the means. You have the motivation, as it were. I don't see why we can’t do some digging. Might make it quicker.” Fran
k turned to him, he stood two feet away. Harvey turned to face him.
“I don’t want to be the one to remove the noose. But I’ll help you remove the noose yourself. Like you said in the house, sometimes it’s those who need to repay the debt that should be given the opportunity.”
“And then the noose is gone?”
“And then the noose is gone.”
“How do you plan on helping me? I’ve searched my entire life and just hit walls every step of the way.”
"Well, not so long ago I had a noose around my own neck, Harvey. A man stood before me, as I stand in front of you now. He knew death approached, he heard the footsteps in the darkness." Frank's eyes softened. "In his frantic despair, and as death loomed over him, a tall and fearless figure, he spoke of your parents and the answers you seek."
Harvey didn’t reply.
The End.
End of Book Stuff
Stone Fall - Book Three - Chapter One
Two men sat in a black cab outside St Leonard’s Primary School. The driver looked like any other black cab driver and took the same fare every day. He was dressed for comfort in trainers, a t-shirt and jogging bottoms, just like he did on most days. The other man sat in the large rear space with an open newspaper and flicked through the trashy photos of celebrities. He wore a pair of jeans and a loose jacket over an open-necked polo shirt.
All around them were mums and friends chatting while they waited to collect their children from school. The women stood in groups of two or three making idle small talk between glances at the front doors of the large brick building. They were waiting for the first opportunity to break away from the meaningless chat and get back home to their lives.
Among the mums were several men, not dads, but drivers, who stood unsmiling beside their cars. The school was private, well-regarded and extremely expensive.
The driver had parked a hundred yards back from the main gate, close enough for the little girl to see the cab, but far enough away from the eyes of prying mothers.
The main doors opened, and dozens of uniformed kids ran out towards the waiting arms of their mums. They showed pictures they had painted during class, some opened tupperware boxes to display the cakes they had baked and passed their mums their bags to carry for them. Other kids met their drivers and simply climbed into the back of the car without conversation.
“You’ll never get away with this,” said the driver to the man in the back. “She’s just a kid.”
“Relax, she is merely a pawn,” said the man in the back seat, “just like your family, Mr Bell. I have no use for them, but sometimes we need a little…” he paused thoughtfully, “encouragement. I have far greater ambitions, Mr Bell, than anything to do with the lives of young children. I deal in nations. So much grander, don't you think?”
“But she won’t recognise you, you’ll scare her,” the driver replied.
“Inshallah, by the time she opens the door it will be too late.”
The intuition of the man in the rear paid off. A short while later the door was opened by a little girl, and she climbed in.
“Hey, who are you?” she said.
“”Oh, you must be Angel?” said the man in the back. “It’s okay, I am helping, Mr Bell today. Why don’t you close the door, it’s cold outside, yes?”
Angel turned and pulled the heavy door closed, before settling herself onto the seat.
“Do you need help with the seatbelt?”
“No, I can do it myself, I do it every day.”
“Oh, well you must be a very clever girl then, Angel. Drive on.”
The driver indicated, pulled away from the curb and joined the slow moving traffic.
“So,” said the man in the back, “tell me about your day, Angel. Did you make a painting? Or cook a cake?”
“You don’t make a painting, you paint a painting, and you don’t cook a cake, you bake a cake.”
The man laughed. “Such a clever girl, you know when I went to school, we didn’t learn such things.”
“Where did you go to school?”
“A long way from here, Angel. Somewhere very far away, but it is always in my heart, and I can find my way home with my eyes closed. Is this place in your heart, Angel?”
“My school?”
“Yes, your school, your friends and the city. Do you love them?”
“I love my friends, but not my school.”
“And the city, Angel? Do you love London?”
“I don’t know, I haven’t been anywhere else, so I don’t know what’s better.”
“You really are a very clever girl for somebody so young.”
“How do you know how old I am?” Angel asked.
“Oh, Angel, we know all about you. And your Mum.”
“Where are we going? This isn’t the way.”
“I must be honest with you, Angel, we are going for a little holiday. Perhaps afterwards you will know if you miss your home or not.”
The man was busy pouring a liquid from a small plastic bottle onto a handkerchief.
“Where are we going? What’s that you’re doing?” asked Angel. “I want my mum.”
“Little girl, you have asked too many questions. It’s nap time.”
Appreciation
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J.D.Weston
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A Note from the Author
The Stone Cold Thriller series is set in East London and Essex and features places from my own childhood.
While many of the buildings, pubs and streets are fictitious, some of the more prominent locations in the series are borne from my own life experience and are as accurate as my memory allows.
My family are from Theydon Bois, where John Cartwright’s house is located. In fact, my parents lived in the great house before I was born, renting a room off the wealthy owner.
The headquarters building is based on the same road as my first flat in Silvertown, opposite London’s City Airport.
In the first book, Stone Cold, the location of the first murder was in fact in the same building as my first job.
While the locations may offer an insight into my own childhood, and early working years, the characters are all fictitious. I recently handed the first draft of book one, Stone Cold to some family members and discovered that John Cartwright is, in fact, the name of my great-grandfather. I hope that he wasn’t into the things the character John Cartwright is, and if he was, I’d like to know where the money went.
Stone Fury was an absolute pleasure to write. The places were all familiar in my mind, and the characters truly came to life. Melody, Reg and Denver played a much larger role in the story, and each character grew and developed organically with little guidance from me; all I did was type the words as the story unfolded.
I do hope you’ve enjoyed the series so far, but more than that, I hope you’ve grown to feel for Harvey and the other characters, and if you’ve come this far, perhaps you’ll come a little further and see how the next part of Harvey’s story unfolds. I wish I could tell you, I’m itching to just blurt it out. But hey, where’s the fun in that?
J.D.Weston
To learn more about J.D.Weston
www.jdweston.com
[email protected]
Also By J.D.Weston.
Book 1 - Stone Cold.
Book 2 - Stone Fury
Book 3 - Stone Fall - Pre-Order
Book 4 - Stone Rage - Pre-Order
Book 5 - Stone Free - June 2018
www.jdweston.com
Stone Cold
Book One of the Stone Cold Thriller series
One priceless set of diamonds. Three of London's ruthless east end crime families. One very angry assassin with a hit list.
Harvey Stone has questions that someone will answer. Who killed his parents and why? Who raped and killed his sister? And why are his closest allies hiding the truth.
When Harvey is asked to kill east London's biggest crime boss in return for one name on his list, there is only one answer.
Can Harvey survive the gang war, untangle the web of deceit and uncover the truth behind his sisters death?
Stone Cold is the first book in the Stone Cold thriller series.
If you enjoy fast-paced adventure, gritty vigilante stories and no-nonsense heroes, then you'll love J.D.Weston's brand new Thriller Series.
Unlock the Stone Cold Thriller Series with the first book, Stone Cold.
Stone Fury
Book Two of the Stone Cold Thriller series
The lives of twelve young girls are being sold. The seller is on Harvey Stone's list.
When ex-hitman Harvey Stone learns of a human trafficking ring taking place in his old stomping ground, he is sickened. But when he learns the name of the person running the show, an opportunity arises to cross one more name of his list.
Can Harvey save the ill-fated girls, and serve justice to those who are most deserved?
Stone Fury is the second book in the Stone Cold thriller series.