Within the hour, a car was seen to be slowly driven up the track leading toward the farmhouse, and out stepped a middle aged man, quite tall, around six feet three, with an air of confidence about him as he walked, straight backed, toward the farmhouse door.
As he approached, he placed a wig upon his head, as a form of recognition to the team who allowed him entrance. No words were spoken. Serbio was positioned to stand upright while the Judge spoke.
“Mr. Serbio Volokovitch. Is this your correct name”?
“Yes”, came the reply.
“Your previous and current exploits have been brought to our attention, and it seems that with your power and influence in high circles, you have put yourself above the powers of the British judicial system. May I remind you Sir, no-one, but no-one, is ever above the law, contrary to whatever you have been told or promised, although, despite your illegal ventures, you have seemed lucky, if I can use this word, to describe your fortunate escapes with brushes of the law who pursue you. However, your personal file has been carefully selected and read methodically by the powers who now have you in custody, and before I pass sentence upon you, you may like to speak a few words in defence on your behalf, as there are no high flying and expensive defence lawyers here to act on your behalf”.
Serbio, having heard this strange new and educated voice, accepted that here was a man who is or was probably a High Court Judge or Barrister, with many years of experience.
“I do not know why I have been kidnapped and brought to this place here against my will, by force may I add, and the use of an illegal administrated substance which has been placed into my body without my knowledge or agreement is a crime itself. The person or persons who have done this should be on trial, if this is what this is, and not me…………….. Serbio`s words were cut short by the Judge.
“These people are not on trial, unlike you. You are fully conversant of the crimes that you committed or have been committed upon your behalf, and with your knowledge and orders and carried out with explicit instructions from you directly or indirectly. Do you plead guilty or not guilty”?
For a moment, Serbio could not quite comprehend what was happening to him. He was on trial for crimes he had committed, but who were these people who took the law into their own hands?
“If I agree, and plead guilty, what happens then”? questioned Serbio.
“How do you plead, guilty or not guilty”, replied the Judge. “I suppose that I have done a few bad things in my time”, answered Serbio. “But I am sure you can understand that where I was brought up, living each day was a personal survival challenge for me, but I am now in a strong financial position to can offer you suitable financial gifts for you to dispel with these charges and accusations against me. I am sure that if you just release me and let me go, I will ensure that we can all agree to a suitable sum”?
The Judge nodded to the team as he placed three cards upon a small wooden table face down.
Three hands picked up and turned over their card.
The Ace of Spades was turned over by Stuart.
The Judge reached inside his pocket, and withdrew a syringe and a phial containing a yellow coloured liquid, two pairs of rubber gloves and handing it over to Stuart who quickly filled the syringe.
“Gentlemen. The cards of True Justice have spoken”, said the Judge, and at the same time, Serbio’s arms were pinioned to his side while the lethal injection was administered. Serbio’s muffled scream and resistance soon ebbed as the deadly drug took its immediate effect, and he slumped lifeless back onto the settee.
Steve and Geoff checked for any signs of life, and pronounced Serbio dead.
The Judge, once again, withdrew a note from his pocket which he pinned onto Serbio’s Versace coat, and collected the items that he brought, thanked the team for their fine effort in bringing one of the most dangerous criminals to True Justice and departed back to his car, disappearing down the track toward the main roads ahead.
The team left Serbio’s body on the settee, and wiped away any evidence of their visit, even brushing the dirt track behind them to remove any signs of tyre marks upon the track and re-securing the old, rusty chain, back around the gate at the entrance to the farm.
Finally, after one last final check with each other that there would be no evidence or clues remaining behind, they re-joined the main road and once again, headed back toward London. They stayed at their London location for approximately three hours, Geoff collecting a take-away for them all and a few beers, all waiting for the telephone call of confirmation from ‘Code 306’ who would have already been informed of their success from the judge. Until that call arrived, they would have to remain in the house.
Four hours after they had finished their meal, the inevitable call came. The team then set about to clean up the house, before departing, once again, their separate ways.
TWENTY
Serbio’s body had been discovered about three days after the incident accidentally by two lovers who had decided that their sexual inclinations and passion could not be restricted anymore, and coming across the old farmhouse, went inside where they planned to light a small fire in which to warm the room, and then lay a blanket out upon the ground where they would proceed with their sexual fantasies, naked, in front of an open fire.
The dimness of the room did not show its hidden horror to the lovers, who went about collecting wood for their fire. As the flames increased, the room got warmer, and the blanket was laid carefully upon the floor.
They commenced to slowly undress each other, the young man expertly caressing the young girl’s breasts from behind until her nipples became red and erect, and at the same time, his fingers reaching down and finding the entrance to her moist vagina.
As her excitement and passion grew, she reached behind, feeling for his now erect manhood which she slowly caressed, and then turned and kneeled down, taking him deep into her mouth while both his hands held her head, stroking her fine, blond hair, his eyes becoming glazed with the wonderful feelings from below.
She pulled away, not being to hold back anymore, and lay back upon the blanket, opening up her legs and pulling him down between her silken, white, soft thighs. He entered her, gently and slowly at first, each thrust a little harder while she begged for him to thrust harder and faster. He responded to her demands, and she started to moan with excitement as she knew that she was nearing her climax. Her voice now turned into screams which she could not prevent, nor did not want to, while the flames of the fire threw shadows over their glistening perspiring bodies.
When it was over, they lay spent in each others arms, enjoying the tranquillity and warmth of each others body, and as the young man got up, he leaned over and kissed her on her full, red lips, her tongue searching for his, wanting him eagerly once again.
He stood up and collected his garments which were, during their eagerness, strewn over the floor, and she got up, collected her undergarments, and made her way toward the settee which was facing backward to both of them.
As she went to the front of the settee to sit down, suddenly realised that there was the body of a man sitting there, her scream echoed through the farmhouse as she stepped back toward her lover.
“Adam, Adam”, she screamed. “There is a dead man in the bloody armchair”!
Adam quickly crossed the room, and saw this body, tied with a hood over his head.
“Don’t touch anything. Get dressed and I’ll call the Police right away”, he replied as he reached for his mobile telephone, dialling the emergency number.
Within twenty minutes of receiving the 999 call, and confirming the directions and name of the farm, three Police cars from Oxford pulled up, their sirens and lights could be heard and seen distinctively as they approached.
Chief Inspector Gary Arnold was the first to arrive on the scene of the crime, and quickly issued orders to his officers to seal off and cordon the immediate area. Forensics teams were notified and arrived shortly after, and soon set about their
business of trying to find any clues, evidence or information about the victim.
The two young lovers, now in deep shock, had been taken outside the farmhouse, and provided with a cup of Police tea via a thermos flask from the canteen which was weak and sweet, and one male and one female officer were in attendance, trying to calm the lovers down.
They had explained, in great detail, over and over again to the C.I. (Chief Inspector) exactly what had happened, and then each provided statements to that effect, giving the Police both their home addresses. This done, and the C.I. was satisfied, they were allowed to return to their vehicle and drive home, but instructed not to discuss anything concerning this case.
On the journey back, they felt a lot calmer having left the scene and being re-assured by the C.I. himself, that they may be wanted for further questioning at a later date, but there was nothing to worry or to be concerned about. This was just a matter of formality and procedure.
“I can’t believe that while you were fucking me, that this dead guy was only a few yards away”, said Helen.
“Maybe he died in excitement at the two of us banging away at each other”, answered Adam.
Back at the farmhouse, extensive searches and forensic samples had been collected and the Coroner’s official vehicle had carefully removed the body to deliver it to the morgue where D.N.A. testing and further examinations would be conducted to discover the origin of the actual death and estimated time the deceased was last alive, and the identity of the corpse.
The very next day, the headlines appeared in most of the National daily newspapers.
RUSSIAN MAFIA KING FOUND MURDERED IN BEECHES FARM, NEAR OXFORD
The hooded body of Serbio Volokovitch, a well-known Russian ‘businessman’ and entrepreneur’ was discovered by two lovers during the afternoon of……………………. The coverage went on to explain how the body was first discovered, and any leads that the Police had to his murder would be followed up using all available resources.
Chief Inspector Arnold had collected information that this murder was not unlike those which had occurred a few weeks ago, very much similarities to the body being discovered with the head hooded, the mouth taped and both wrists bound by nylon ties. The autopsy had also shown marks of an injection on the right arm as also discovered on the other bodies, one which was discovered in Savernake forest, while the other in Surrey. In each case, both injections that were administered to the victims was discovered to be an extremely high concentrate of pure heroin.
The exact replica of these murders were also carried out on a Mr. Richards whose body was quite accidentally discovered only a few days ago, after it had been submerged in an old water filled quarry near Godstone, Surrey. This body was found by amateur divers who regularly used this quarry for training purposes,
The young ‘rookie’ diver, whilst still under supervision, had innocently come across the water de-composed body, and the water was so murky, it was floating submerged, only two feet away from his face. Utter panic had immediately set in, and he soon forgot about staying calm when the unexpected occurred, and despite his expert training by fully qualified instructor, his immediate action was to get the hell up to the surface of the water and to get back onto dry land.
All bodies contained an attached note. To Chief Inspector Arnold, this was either some kind of a warning to other drug dealers or just simply that some person or persons, had decided that they had enough of the drug scene, had had decided to take positive action by taking these dealers out once and for all on a permanent basis, yet, all murders were discovered in different areas?
Arnold, like many officers in the Police forces, had become disillusioned by the ever-increasing crime rate. While the crimes increased and became more violent, the Police being tied with ‘red tape and beaurocratic legislation, were powerless in most cases, and the C.P.S. (Criminal Prosecution Service) as far as he was concerned, was a waste of tax payer’s money. A department created by the government to reduce the unemployment figures. Most of the people employed there were just out of school or college, pimply faced, covered with acne which they were forever picking.
What experience or credibility had any of them attained with regard to law and order? None of them had ever been on the streets to see or encounter just really went on there. The old senior citizens who had been attacked in their own home, defenceless against the burglars and muggers who were not satisfied in just robbing them of their life savings, but usually ended up with the old folk being beaten up and hospitalised in most cases, never ever recovering from their awful and terrifying experiences, some even prematurely dying either in the hospital or later on back in their home resulting from shock of the incident.
After twenty three years in the ‘Force’, he had discussed early retirement over with his long suffering wife. The department was being taken over by ‘College whiz kids’, who were presented with rapid promotion over long term serving officers. Yes, things were changing, but for the worse. He had decided that this case would be his very last one, and had already applied for early voluntary retirement. He was tired, worn out, and could not keep up with the latest forever changing high technology. Policing as he knew it, was fast becoming a thing of the past.
His retirement plans were quite simple. Nice long luxury holidays together with his wife. Catch up on all the odd jobs that wanted doing around the house. Gardening. Join the local bowling club, and an opportunity to drive and visit their many friends over the country. Arnold pondered over his dreams which were closer to reality with each passing day. Yes, he thought to himself, I’ll pull out all the stops on this case as this will be my very last one, so it would be very nice to leave the Police force with an excellent record, maybe even a recommendation or even a citation from the Chief Constable. That would look good mounted in a glass frame in my lounge?
TWENTY ONE
Mr. Philip Martin Bradley had been pleased with the way the ‘team’ had operated recently, for they had left no clues for the Police or Forensics to discover, and despite the Police offering a reward for any information which would lead to the arrest and eventual conviction of the killer, no-one could come up with anything.
He sat in his favourite, high, green leather chair at the gentleman’s club just off Sloane Square. as he had been a member of this elite and highly respected club for numerous years, even being voted as the chairman, a position which he held in great esteem for several years, respected by all the other members and staff alike.
His expertise and great organising qualities, combined with his gentle but firm approach to any incident relating to the club itself, or even to the individual members who, during a crisis within their life, either on a personal, domestic or financial situation, would seek him out and confidentially pour their heart out to him, where he would listen intently, taking in every word of misfortune they had to say, and at the end of their confession, he would ponder for a while to think through the best advice the he could offer them.
Philip Bradley had placed down The Financial Times that he had been reading for over thirty minutes, his eyes carefully focused on items of interest to him and him alone. He smiled as he read that his stocks and shares with a particular company, had just risen by eight pence per share while his other investments had also risen a further twelve pence per share.
He had recently received a ‘tip-off’, that if he had some spare cash around, he would greatly benefit by investing immediately into another particular company, as unknown to others, this company was about to be bought out and taken over, lock, stock and barrel by a huge conglomerate of American and French businessmen. He did not hesitate at this advice, and arranged to transfer the sum of £650,000 to this new investment. The takeover by the new owners occurred five days after his investment had been completed.
His investment had already grown from £650,000 into £1,540,000 overnight. Mr. Philip Martin Bradley was more than pleased with himself, and picked up his large brandy glass which contained a good measure of
the clear, golden liquid, and sipped it’s nectar which warmed him throughout as it entered his body.
He had already dispatched another ‘Target Profile’ to the team a few days previous for them to get acquainted with their target, and this would be an exceptionally hard operation for them as it concerned a previous member of their military background, a former soldier who had got totally disillusioned with Military life, and had decided to provide an easier way of making money for himself.
Ex-2 Parachute Regiment Peter Thornton had previously, a few years ago, returned back to the U.K. under arrest from an incident which occurred in Bosnia. There, while on patrol with his comrades, he had entered a house on a routine search mission, and discovered a young, beautiful eighteen year old girl alone there. The girl, extremely frightened, stood back against the wall while he ogled her fine and exquisite body as she got out of the bath, as she tried desperately to cover her nakedness, her fright shown in her eyes.
He could not resist the temptation after being without sex for over four months, and gently approached the young girl wrapped a small towel which barely covered her.
He lay his weapon down and held his hand out as a token of friendship, and she thought that she would come to no harm from this British soldier. As he neared, his passion took over and he went to kiss her lips, forcing her back against the wall behind her, at the same time his hands caught hold of the towel around her and pulled it quickly from her. She tried to cover hear breasts and lower body in total embarrassment, but Thornton had now become totally obsessed and aroused in having this girl, and the sight of her luxurious black, pubic curly hair which formed a perfect triangle between her legs, made his desire rise even more.
He grabbed her and forced her to the floor where he savagely raped her, afterwards making her commit obscene sexual acts, and finally, as she lay there in complete shock, bleeding from his savage entry into her when she had cried out in pain being a virgin, blood now coming from her nose and mouth where he had, during his frenzied sexual attack, beaten her with his open hand and fist, eventually, she had become unconscious.
Beyond Doubt: the ULTIMATE vigilante (legal thrillers) Page 7