Hero series Box Set

by M A Comley

  “So, what do you think?” Cara asked about thirty miles into their trip.

  Hero frowned and scratched his head. “Sorry? About what?”

  “About my career dilemma, idiot. Oh, and I forgot to tell you something earlier,” she added cryptically.

  “What?”

  “Marc asked me to marry him again.”

  He turned in his seat to face her. “You’ve got to do it, Cara. He’s obviously one in a million. No other man would put up with your moods the way he does.”

  His comment earned him a thump on the arm. “Let’s just say that after the weekend we’ve had, I’m considering it.”

  Hero punched the air. “Yes. I can’t wait to tell Fay. She’s been banging on about you settling down, along with Mum, of course, for ages. You know how much women love a wedding—and a bride—to fuss over.”

  All Hero needed to do was dissuade Cara from being a bodyguard—and a copper, come to that. Although given the choice, he would rather she join the force with him so that he could keep an eye on her. Their journey home ended up being a reflective one since they both remained silent and thoughtful.

  On Sunday evening, at around nine o’clock, the woman went upstairs to her bedroom to get ready to instigate the plan she had been churning over in her mind for the past forty-eight hours or so. She fancied being blonde that night. She pulled the long blonde wig from its hook then wiggled it onto her scalp and stroked down any stray hairs before she brushed it. As she admired the way the shade brought out the colour of her smoky-grey eyes, excitement twitched in her tummy. She chose a simple ensemble of a slim-fitting taupe pencil skirt that stopped just above her knees and a loose cream-coloured blouse. She went to the shoe section of her wardrobe and picked out a pair of three-inch-heel black court shoes. Slutty attire wasn’t on the menu tonight; smart but casual was instead. Her attire was all part of her master plan.

  Satisfied by her appearance, she rang a local taxi firm she hadn’t used before and ordered a cab to pick her up on the corner of the road adjacent to her home in twenty minutes’ time.

  The taxi driver dropped her off at the edge of the estate, and not wishing to hang around longer than necessary, the driver screeched away before she had the chance to slam the back door shut.

  She snuck up to the corner where she knew the girls would be waiting for punters. A shudder crept through her, not because the evening had a chill about it, but because the anticipation of what lay ahead both excited and scared her. A car slowed down beside her; she’d let down her guard and hadn’t heard it pull up. The slamming car door broke her concentration. She turned sharply to find a youth approaching her with an amused but wary look on his face.

  “Spying, are ya?”

  She cleared the blockage in her vocal chords before she answered him. She laughed, then said shyly, “You caught me.” She turned to face him and watched the way his hungry eyes leered at her slim body in the dull light of the night. There were no nearby lights to show off the tinge of embarrassed colour that she knew must have risen up in her hot cheeks.

  “Doing what exactly?” he snarled, closing the gap between them.

  Instinctively, she reached for the handbag draped over her shoulder and slipped her hand inside. She curled her hand around the weapon, ready to defend herself.

  The youth didn’t seem to notice because his eyes were still leering at her shapely legs. He came to a stop beside her and leaned his shoulder against the wall. He put his hands in his pocket, and as her eyes dropped, she saw that he had started playing with himself.

  “I was intrigued by the girls. That’s all.”

  “Intrigued as in you want a good time with them? Ever done it with another girl? You look as though you’ve been around a bit.” He looked serious when he made the comment, as though he hadn’t meant it as an insult but as a compliment.

  “No, never done it with another girl. As for the other cheeky comment, I wouldn’t say I’ve been around that much. What about you? Why are you here?” she asked bravely.

  “I’m looking after my girls.”

  “Your girls. What does that mean?”

  “My girls. I own those slags. They screw the punters, and I get a cut from it. If you’re up for a threesome, I can give you a good deal—a discount, if you like.” His hand moved more vigorously in his pocket, and a toothy smile stretched across his mouth.

  Bile rose in her throat, but she swallowed it back down. The thought of him touching her was beginning to repulse her. Luckily, he seemed more intent on touching his own manhood than her, for the time being.

  “Can I think about it?” she asked, although she was thinking quickly about something else.

  He shook his head and laughed. “It’s a one-time-only offer, baby. Now or never. Shall I call one of the girls over? There’s a hotel I like to use just around the corner.”

  “I’m not sure.” She teasingly ran a red-painted false fingernail across her matching-coloured lips and watched his hand rub his cock faster.

  “Go on. I promise you’ll have a good time.” He leaned towards her for a kiss.

  She turned away shyly and looked over her shoulders at the whores on his payroll, while her mind galloped quicker, working out her next movements.

  She heard, then felt him shuffle up behind her, and she tried not to stiffen. With the sweetest smile glued in place, she turned back to face him. “I like to know what I’m getting first.”

  Confused, he scratched his head. “Huh?” Her eyes drifted down to his crotch, and he cottoned on to her meaning instantly. “Ah, I see.”

  Both of his hands came out of his pockets, and he unzipped the zip on his jeans. When his cock sprang loose, she gasped, playing up her part. His eyes widened at what he obviously thought was her unexpected excitement. “What’s your name?” she whispered.

  “Why? You like to know the name of the person fucking you?”

  Her skin crawled, but she kept the broad smile firmly in place as she nodded. “That’s right.” Looking down and then back up into his brown, confident eyes, she added, “Big boy.”

  Thinking she’d given him the go ahead to maul her, the youth pounced. He placed his hand on the back of her head and forced her face down towards his crotch. “It’s Jez Barrett. Now that we’re acquainted, suck me,” he ordered.

  She pulled back slightly. During the enforced movement, her hand had slipped out of her handbag. She needed to distract him enough for her to regain access to it. “Honey, it would be so much better if you dropped your jeans for me.”

  The words had only just left her lips when he leapt into action. Using both hands, he grappled with the button on his Levis, and she took the opportunity to dip her hand into her bag again.

  “There. Now do your stuff. Show me what you’ve got, and I’ll consider putting you in my team.”

  “Really?” She looked up at him and fluttered her eyelashes. She couldn’t tell if he could see her or not in the dim light, but she didn’t care. She knew he was off-guard. She placed one hand around his dick, and he leaned back against the wall, his eyes closed as he anticipated her next movement.

  “Get on with it.” His voice trembled with expectancy.

  In the sexiest voice she could muster, she said, “Here I come, baby.”

  He almost screeched his response, “Just get on with it, for fuck’s sake.”

  She pulled her hand out of her purse and lowered her head so that her eyes were level with his cock. She ran the flat edge of the knife across the tip of his manhood, and he moaned in ecstasy, presumably caught up in the moment and thinking the cold metal was her tongue.

  “Hmm… that’s good. Take it all in. Let me feel it at the back of your throat.”

  She fought back the urge to vomit. The blade tickled the length of his cock, back and forth in a teasing motion. “You like that?” She looked up to see him nod. “You like that?”

  As if the penny had dropped, he opened his eyes and gazed down at her.

  She tilted t
he knife, ensuring it glinted in the shadowy light.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” He frantically tried to push her away from him, away from his vulnerable manhood.

  However, she had prepared herself for this result and stiffened her body as she watched his cock shrivel before her eyes.

  “Get away from me, you crazy bitch,” he shrieked.

  She stood up, pinning him against the wall, but held the knife at the base of his cock, close to his balls. Moving it back and forth, she taunted him, “Who’s in control now, big boy?”

  “What do you want? Don’t hurt me… please… don’t hurt me.”

  “Why? Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t hurt you. You love hurting other people, don’t you? Spend your days hunting for people to hurt, by all accounts. That’s how you get your thrills, isn’t it, big boy?”

  “No.”

  She dug the length of the knife along his now-flaccid dick. “Don’t lie to me.”

  “Ouch! Don’t hurt me.”

  His snivelling angered her more. She grabbed the collar of his shirt with her free hand. He seemed surprised by her strength. Anger had a knack of making people stronger. She placed her face close enough to his and felt the heaviness of his terrified breath against her cheek. “How many people have you hurt in the past week?” She knew he was the one who had laid into the prostitute the week before, after she’d handed over her “wages” to him.

  “How the fuck should I know? I don’t keep count.”

  “You bastard! You don’t even care, do you?”

  Rather than wait for his answer, she plunged the knife into one of his balls. His scream almost pierced her eardrum. If he thought she would back off after wounding him, he was very much mistaken. Her forearm, which was across his chest, pinned him to the wall as she pierced his other ball with the blade. Again, he screamed.

  “This is punishment for all the people you’ve hurt or degraded in the last week, month, year, and throughout your miserable lifetime, you no-good piece of fucking shit.”

  His eyes, which were filled with pain, grew wide with the realisation that she was about to finish the job. And she knew he’d discovered her secret.

  “That’s right, big boy.” She nodded and snarled at him. “I’ll see you in hell.”

  With that, she jabbed the knife into his gut several times and twisted it before she withdrew the bloody article. His body slumped ever lower against the brick wall, and he said only one word before his last breath left his body. “Why?”

  “Retribution,” she replied before his breathing ceased and she finished the job properly.

  After completing the task, she wiped the blade on a hanky from her handbag. Then she wrapped the knife and her trophy from the crime in the handkerchief and tucked it back in her bag. Walking away, she let out a satisfied breath and headed for the main road to flag down a cab.

  When she returned home, she made her way up the stairs and to her bedroom. She sat down at the dressing table and studied her reflection in the mirror. She should have hated herself at that moment for taking someone’s life, but she didn’t. She felt a calm—a sense of elation that made her nerve ends tingle. Her eyes glistened with a murderous stare as she removed the wig from her head and put it on the dressing table beside her.

  “One down, three to go. Each one will have his turn and end up in hell. They can rule that place, if they dare.”

  Chapter 17

  He should have felt exhausted by the weekend’s events. Instead, Hero felt revived and ready to hit the ground running on Monday morning. He even found himself whistling as he made his way through the dingy station and into the incident room. That was where his good mood came to an abrupt halt.

  Julie glanced his way, looking anything but happy, and Hero tried to push down the ominous feeling that bubbled to the surface. “Okay, let’s have it. Another prostitute murder, is it?”

  “Not exactly, sir.”

  “Come on, Shaw. Out with it.” He perched on the edge of the desk next to hers and watched her take a picture from a file in front of her.

  She handed it to him. “It’s another murder. This time, however, the victim is a male.”

  Hero took a brief look at the photo. “I see. Any ID on the victim?” When Julie remained quiet and nodded at the picture in his hand, he studied it closer. “Bloody hell.” His eyes widened when he glanced up at his partner. “Is that who I think it is?”

  “Yep! Jez Barrett, sir.”

  “Well, well, well, this certainly throws a different light on things, doesn’t it?”

  “I’d say so, sir.”

  Foxy joined in the conversation. “The question is who killed him? For all we know, he might have outlived his usefulness to the Krull Gang. Maybe he couldn’t deal with what happened the other day, you know, when they torched that member of the opposing gang.”

  “Hmm… that’s feasible I suppose, Foxy, but highly unlikely. Let’s get his address and head out, Shaw. Did Susan attend the scene?”

  “As far as I know, she was the duty pathologist, sir.”

  “Let me see what she has to say before we leave. Be ready in five minutes.”

  He marched into his office and rang the pathologist right away. “Susan, it’s Patch.”

  “Ah, I thought you’d be contacting me first thing.” In spite of the time, Susan sounded tired instead of like her usual cheery self.

  “Are you all right? You sound rough.”

  “How to win friends, huh? I’ve been up all night dealing with the victim, whom I presume is why you’re contacting me.”

  “Yeah, I just got in. What can you tell me apart from he’s dead and lying on a slab at the mortuary?”

  “I can tell you that it was overkill, a hate crime.”

  “Go on.” He picked up a spare sheet of paper and started making notes as Susan read out the victim’s injuries. Then he worked through a probable scenario with her. “So, he was stabbed numerous times in the stomach. Could it have been an argument that went wrong? A knife wound that he didn’t see coming maybe?”

  “Well, there is that. Although I’m inclined to think something else entirely.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because I was a naughty girl and left something vital out of the information I just gave you.”

  He could hear a smile in her voice and prepared himself for what she was about to tell him next. “And what piece of vital information was that, Susan?”

  “His dick was cut off and missing from the scene.”

  “Jesus!” Without realising he’d done it, Hero crossed his legs and winced. “Shit, can you tell me if it was done pre or post mortem?”

  “Definitely after death, not long after, though.”

  Hearing that, Hero’s mind spun off in a specific direction. “Okay, thanks, Susan. Julie and I are heading out now to inform the family.”

  “Don’t envy you that task. You might want to leave out certain facts. I would if I were you. Let me know if I can help further, Patch.”

  “Thanks, Susan.”

  He hung up and returned to the incident room. “Well, that was interesting.”

  Julie and Foxy looked at each other in puzzlement. “Sir?” Foxy asked.

  “Have you managed to find his family’s address?”

  Julie held up a piece of paper with writing on and waved it in the air. “His mother’s address, sir. It’s on the edge of the Brickfields Estate.”

  “Great, let’s go, Shaw.” Julie hesitated before she picked up her bag. “Something wrong, Julie?”

  “Two things, really, sir. One it’s the Brickfields Estate we’re going to, and second, I thought you were going to tell us what the pathologist had to say.”

  “Ah, I see, on both counts. Well, as to venturing out to the estate again, it’s just something we’ll have to do. Make sure you have your truncheon, handcuffs, and pepper spray handy. His mother has a right to know he’s dead, like any other mother, right?” Julie gave a reluctant nod. “And s
econdly, Susan said the victim was missing a vital part of his anatomy.”

  “Which is?” Julie asked, a deep frown creasing her forehead.

  Hero’s mouth twisted a little before he told the two women. “His penis.”

  “Oh, my, God.” Julie and Foxy said in unison.

  “Yeah, not nice, is it? Which got me thinking that we’re definitely looking at some kind of gang war here.”

  “Really? I’m not sure I agree with that,” Julie said, screwing up her nose.

  “Why?” Hero asked, unsure in which direction his partner’s mind was going.

  “Let me rephrase that. Maybe I half agree with that, sir. I can’t really see a guy doing that to another guy, but a girl carrying out the crime would be different. I’m thinking of the Bobbitt case in America. I can’t think of another case where it has happened, can you?”

  Both Foxy and Hero thought for a few seconds before Foxy said, “Maybe a Mafia case or two. They tended to cut the penises off their rivals and shove them in their mouths. I’ve heard that happening several times on the true crime programmes on TV.”

  Surprised, Hero raised an eyebrow at her. “You watch crime programmes in your spare time?”

  Foxy blushed and nodded. “Afraid so. Have you ever seen those shows? Bloody hell, the crimes we deal with are really tame compared to some of the ones they cover. I’m more inclined to think this girl has something to do with Barrett’s murder. We still don’t know if she’s connected to another gang or not.”

  “I was kind of thinking along the same lines, Foxy. While we’re out—”

  She cut him off with a raised hand. “I know, check the CCTV of the area to see if I can spot her in the vicinity.”

  Hero smiled. “That predictable, am I?”

  “You can be sometimes, sir. I’ll get on it immediately and call you if I find anything.”

  “Thanks, Foxy,” he shouted back as he and Julie left the incident room.