A Killer's Calling: Incite to Murder 1

by John Stuart Owen

  ‘Bit too noisy for me, I’ll make my way up, get a shower and sort the bed out, as best I can.’ Matt gave her a screwed up smile, his best attempt at showing her he was uneasy with the sleeping arrangements.

  ‘I’m not going to be long Matt, but I’m too wound up to settle at the moment. I’ll try not to wake you. See you in the morning.’

  Chapter 45

  Orla made her way into the bar. The pub was not as crowded as she had thought. The young Turks around the pool table were causing most of the noise and commotion. She eyed the counter and made her way to a space between a couple of drinking groups. Easing herself onto a vacant barstool she scanned the bar for the only face she knew; Declan! He had seen her come in and nodded as their eyes connected. He walked over, ignoring a number of calls for service.

  ‘Hi Orla. How yer doin? What can I get you? A Magners?’

  ‘Something a bit lighter Declan. I’ll have an Amarula with ice, thanks.’

  ‘Cummin up!’ As she waited, she looked about. Most of the eyes were cast in her direction. She felt uneasy. Declan made his way back with her drink, skillfully serving three impatient locals as he did so.

  ‘Quite an art you’ve got there. Where did you learn all that?’

  ‘I managed the hotel bar at a Golf Course in Cavan.’

  ‘Oh, so you play golf?’

  ‘No, not me; spoils a good walk in the country!’ Orla laughed at the comment.

  ‘What about yourself, Orla?’

  Got to be careful here? ‘I work for the Spar group, you know, the convenience store.’

  ‘And what about your mate; where is he by the way?’

  ‘We work together; he’s tired and needs an early night.’

  ‘A man can only do so much yer know!’

  ‘I’ve told you before, it’s not like that!’

  ‘If you say so!’ Declan laughed softly as he looked into her eyes. God what a waste. ‘Does he know what we use your room for?’

  ‘No . . . He couldn’t handle that.’ She laughed at the thought. ‘If he knew he was staying in the “Red Light” district, he would die. How do you get on with the law?

  They must know what goes on!’

  ‘You just missed him! Bryn Williams; this is his local. He left early; said he’d got a couple of detectives coming from England to pry into what’s going on in his back yard. Not you, is it?’

  ‘Do you think I’d pass for a detective?’ Orla flashed him a seductive smile. ‘So he knows what goes on . . . and it’s OK?’

  ‘He’s a realist! He knows we help to keep the street walkers off the street. Sort of a Cottage Industry.’ Declan could see that Orla was shocked at what was going on in the small sea-side town. He was enjoying himself.

  ‘How long have you lived here Declan?’

  ‘Coming up three years now. Pub used to be called “The Bush”, but they had a fire. Careless cigarette in that room you’re in, dropped by no less than our infamous Caleb Carpenter. Fell asleep with a local lady. I bought it for peanuts, did a bit of renovation and here we are! I added the “Burning” because that's what the locals began to call it.’ Orla’s eyes kept falling on a tall youngster, wielding a cue at the pool table. He was constantly watching her, as were half a dozen of his mates. Comments were being made and she knew that she was the subject under discussion.

  ‘Who’s that tall lad at the pool table, the fair haired one with the ear-ring?’

  Declan looked across. ‘That’s Gareth, full of himself but harmless enough.’

  ‘He looks like he means mischief if you ask me; they are talking about me!’

  ‘Well you’re a new face; they know better than to start any trouble here. Relax!

  If anything kicks off they will be out on their ear . . . but they know that; don’t worry.

  Actually that Gareth that you pointed out has got a problem at home. His father has gone missing; he just disappeared with his dog, must be a month ago now. I was talking with him and Bryn Williams earlier on. They have made searches around the cliff path where he walks the dog, but they’ve come up with nothing. Would you excuse me? . . . I need to put a new barrel on.’

  Orla concentrated on the dregs of her drink, chasing the last of the ice cubes with her straw. A loud crash followed by a yell gave her a start. She looked up to see the cue ball from the pool table bounce on the floor and roll directly towards her; instinctively she stopped it with her foot.

  Gareth left the group and advanced towards her; he glanced over his shoulder looking back at his leering mates. He knelt down to take the ball from beneath Orla’s foot, removing her shoe as he did so. Leaping up he held it aloft; his mates cheered and hollered, satisfied at the prize.

  Orla cursed, ‘fucking idiots!’ She stood up and lunged for her shoe. An arm extended over her head; the shoe was snatched from Gareth’s hand and placed gently into her own.

  ‘I think that belongs to the lady!’ Matt Black had taken control. ‘Go back to your game . . . unless you want to take this outside!’ The noise subsided immediately: there were no takers.

  ‘Come on Orla; it’s time to go.’

  ‘I thought you’d gone to bed!’

  ‘You were a long time!’

  ‘I would have been fine!’

  ‘Yes, I noticed!’

  Orla was pumped up and needed to sound off. ‘I can handle myself you know! You saved that lout from going down hard.’

  ‘I believe you . . . but what about the other lot? Anyway, what we don’t need is trouble with the law. Come on, let’s call it a night.’

  ‘By the way, I've picked up some gossip.’

  Matt perked up. ‘I’m all ears.’

  ‘This pub happens to be Bryn Williams, Inspector Bryn Williams local, and he was here while we were eating; left early.’

  ‘And you wanted to have a free for all in his bar!’

  ‘And that lad who pinched my shoe, his father has gone missing . . . no trace!

  He’s been missing for a few weeks . . . with his dog!’

  ‘Interesting! . . . Roll on tomorrow. I’ve set my alarm for seven thirty.’

  ‘That’ll be fine; let me grab my things. I’ll have a quick shower and sneak back when I’m done. I’ll try not to wake you. Goodnight Matt!’

  ‘Goodnight!’

  The bathroom was cold and uninviting. Orla carefully placed her belongings where she could easily access them from the shower. Nothing was really clean; the build up of grime was everywhere. She shuddered as she undressed; making sure that none of her belongings touched the floor. With her toiletries laid neatly out she wrestled with the taps dodging the cold spray until reasonable warmth could be felt. God, how do these people live?

  Orla dragged her heels; she wanted to give Matt plenty of time to get himself organised. She had expected to be sleeping alone in a decent hotel with en suit facilities and all mod cons. It was Orla’s habit to sleep in the nude. She had done so for years and there was nothing about this trip that had made her consider otherwise. She hadn’t come prepared to shack up in a one roomed bedsit with another person, especially a man. Her cover gown was nothing more than a negligee and now that she was showered, had to make the perilous run down the corridor unnoticed. The door creaked as she entered; Matt had left her bedside lamp burning. He was lying on his side facing the window away from her; he appeared to be asleep. She slowly peeled back the duvet and smiled when she saw that he had placed some cushions down the centre of the bed to form a barrier.

  Oh Matt, you poor dear! She dropped the gown from her shoulders and slowly backed her naked form into the bed. The light extinguished, she sighed as she closed her eyes.

  ‘Goodnight Orla.’

  Her heart skipped a beat; she whispered. ‘Goodnight Matt.’

  They lay together, their minds churning, trying to think beyond the thumping noise of the Juke Box below. Matt had tried desperately to bring his mind to focus on tomorrow, but having to share a bed with Orla, his thoughts had been hijacked.
Now that she was beside him in bed, his pulse began to rise. The scent of her body . . . her fragrance . . . all began to overpower him. How the hell am I supposed to sleep? Perhaps I’m not meant to! Is she waiting for me to make a move? God I want to but . . . what if I’m wrong? Unable to lose those thoughts, Matt eventually fell into a troubled sleep.

  The night moved on, the noise from the bar and then the street, abated. Orla stirred; What time is it? Why am I cold? She felt for the duvet and realised that Matt was not there. His need to visit the bathroom had woken him and in leaving the bed had allowed the cover to remain turned back. She clawed at it and snuggled down into its folds. The creak from the door announced his return. A soft curse followed the bump as he caught his shin on the bed. Orla smiled and struggled to contain the laughter as he hobbled to the bed. He sat down with a jolt, still softly cursing as he rubbed his leg. At last he was ready; he pulled the cover back to climb in. Although there was little light in the room, he was suddenly aware that the sleeping form next to him was naked. She heard the gasp as he dropped back onto the bed.

  As the minutes ticked by her mind began to wander. She had fantasised about being with Matt. Her idle time had often been spent trying to engineer situations that would bring them together. Only in her wildest dreams had she imagined being in the situation that she now faced. In a moment of madness; it had to be madness . . . the squeeze of the hand . . . she made her move.

  Matt was sitting on the bed with his head in his hands. She moved silently on her knees across the bed until she was close up and behind him. Placing her hands on his shoulders she caressed them, softly blowing on the back of his neck. . . stroking, moving slowly down, kissing his body as she went. Matt was frozen; not a muscle flinched. He remained silent . . . transfixed.

  She slipped the T shirt over his head, his arms lifting in solemn surrender.

  He toppled backwards towards her. The back of his head brushed between her breasts as he fell into her naked lap.

  Matt had sensed her approach before she had touched him. He was in turmoil. She had become the main focus of his erotic dreams. He had wanted to touch her, to hold her, devour her, but the over-riding force of doing the right thing had reined in his passion. He had been paralysed by her first touch and was now at her mercy.

  Having met no resistance, she was confident now. She gently spread her thighs, raising herself slowly off the bed as she did so. With her hands supporting her weight, she moved forward until she was positioned over his face, dropping gently until she felt the warmth of his breath, and then his tongue . . . searching. Moving in and out of his reach she tantalized him before dropping, gyrating and lifting in endless rhythm. She climaxed . . . gasping as he continued to delve.

  Flipping open the button of his boxer shorts, his manhood reared out . . . searching. Her tongue darting to and fro quickly brought him towards a peak. She could taste him now but Matt was oblivious to that, lost in his own swamp of ecstasy.

  Orla raised herself and collapsed on the bed, her head sinking into the pillow; her breath coming in gasps. Matt had to follow the action; he leapt up, cursing as he rolled around trying to rid himself of the shorts. Orla laughed as she waited, watching him struggle.

  Free at last, he dived towards her; his clumsy approach was met by giggles and cries; suddenly they were together. The passion that had been aroused was finally unleashed. There was no finesse, no tender words, just plain animal lust as they exploded into oblivion. All too soon it was over.

  For a while neither moved; they just lay there, softly stroking wherever they could reach. Orla was slowly being crushed; she rolled, tipping Matt off as he withdrew.

  Panting . . . she laughed. ‘It’s been a while then?’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry; was I too rough?’

  ‘No . . . no . . . I mean it was a bit frantic! Last time I had a ride like that it was on the Waltzer at Port Rush.’

  Matt laughed. ‘Well it wasn’t just me!’ She laughed as she held him. They lay, silently dreaming on; their thoughts in turmoil.

  ‘What the hell just happened?’ Matt was back with reality.

  ‘It just happened Matt. I wanted it and you sure as hell wanted it.’

  He was quiet for a while. ‘Yeah . . . You were marvellous Orla. Thanks for bringing me back to life.’ They lay together, saying nothing; talking would only complicate things. ‘We need to get some shut-eye or we’ll both be like wet rags tomorrow.’

  ‘Yes I know; I just don’t want to lose this moment, but I know you’re right. We both need to shower again but it can wait.’

  ‘Yeah.’ He was mumbling as he started to fade. ‘Goodnight.’

  Matt had wrapped himself around her. She lay on her back, his leg lopped over hers with his right arm stretched around her body cupping her breast. The hormones began to kick in and he began to drift into a blissful sleep. She lay there, unable to move. It had been a while since she had felt so good . . . too long. She began to dream; where to from here?

  Matt, already asleep began to murmur. The incoherent mumblings began to take on an erotic groan as his moist lips nuzzled into her neck; and then it came. ‘Catherine . . . Oh Catherine . . .’ She made no sound as the tears came flooding, and in no time, her pillow was soaked. Trapped now in his iron grip, she wept . . . uncontrollably.

  Chapter 46

  Matt was still asleep but his unconscious mind knew it was morning. The vibrating phone had his right hand searching blindly for the off button, desperately trying to miss the snooze, he slowly raised himself.

  Last night . . . did that really happen? . . .Yes . . . that really happened! He rolled over, smiling as he focused his eyes. The bed was empty. God she’s up already! He swung his legs out of bed and sat looking at the curtained window. He was still naked and suddenly felt so. Reaching for his gown, he quickly draped it around himself before sitting back on the bed. The door swung open. Orla crept in, fully dressed. All that was missing was her topcoat.

  ‘Wow, what happened? I’m not even awake!’

  Without looking up she walked around the bed and sat down with her back to him; she began to fiddle with trivia on her bedside table.

  Matt’s mood sank. ‘What is it Orla? What’s happened?’ He leaped from the bed and was at her side in seconds. She looked away nervously, avoiding any contact. Now agitated, he let fly. ‘What the hell’s going on? Where’s the woman that was with me last night?’ He reached down and with his left hand, touched her cheek; he carefully pressured her to turn her head towards him. He could see immediately that she had been crying. ‘Orla . . .What is it? . . . Did I hurt you? . . . I’m sorry I was so rough!’

  ‘You weren’t rough.’ Her eyes remained downcast. ‘It was my fault! Last night was my fault. I shouldn’t have forced you to make love . . .You weren’t ready . . . I knew you weren’t ready.’

  ‘It was fantastic! You didn’t force me at all! You were unbelievable! Please don’t do this to me!’ Matt put his arm around her shoulder.

  Orla pushed him away as she stood up. ‘No Matt . . . Please don’t!’ With her two hands held up in front of her, she backed away, forcing back the tears as she did so.

  ‘God Orla, I’ve never seen you so messed up. There has to be something more!’

  The silence that followed was eventually broken. For the first time that morning, she looked him in the eye. ‘I wasn’t going to say anything. Last night meant more to me than you can imagine. I’ve wanted you since I first saw you and got to know who you were, but I knew I could never feature in your life. I remember when I first came to Leek Wooton as a WPC, I passed you in the corridor and you didn’t even see me.’

  ‘Those uniforms aren’t very flattering.’

  ‘I was in civvies! . . . Anyway, when Janet Warley asked me to join you on this case, I was overjoyed. I knew you weren’t seeing anyone and just thought I might be able to get you to notice me. But I should have listened to them!’

  ‘Listened to who?’

  ‘Oh God Matt,
everyone . . . They all said you were besotted with this Catherine, but God Matt . . . she dumped you!’ The tears ran freely now as she buried her face in her hands. Matt moved towards her; she sensed his presence and lifted her hand to ward him off.

  ‘No Matt, please don’t! I don’t know how I found the courage to approach you last night, but after we had done it I was just so happy . . . you have no idea . . . and then . . . and then . . .’

  ‘What Orla . . . and then . . . What?’

  ‘You kissed me . . . and called me . . . Catherine!’

  Matt choked as the words hit home. ‘Oh Orla . . . Orla . . . I’m so sorry. I had no idea! No wonder you feel so . . . well . . .’

  She answered for him. ‘Wretched! . . . try wretched! . . . that should do it.’

  He stammered. ‘I don’t know what to say?’

  ‘You don’t have to say anything Matt; I brought this whole thing on myself.

  You were with me but thinking about her. I’ve been a fool . . . but I’ve been a fool before; I’ll get over it. We came here to do a job . . . Let’s do it. Look at the state of me!’ She looked at herself in the mirror and pulled some faces. ‘You go and shower, I’m all done; I’ve just got to re-do my face. We need to get out of here otherwise we’re going to be late.’

  Matt walked slowly towards her. ‘Can I just say . . . ?’

  ‘No you can’t, but what I will say Matt is I don’t want to hear that woman’s name raised in our company again, unless it’s you telling me she’s out of your life.’ . . . like that’s ever going to happen!

  Chapter 47

  Tensions remained high as bags were packed and toiletries were stowed. Matt spoke. ‘We need to get some breakfast before our meeting.’

  ‘No Matt. The first thing we need to do is find some accommodation for tonight . . . then we can find some breakfast!’