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vivikawidow · 6 years ago

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It was a bleak day. Not just weather wise. I was watching from a window that looked out upon the entrance of the COURT HOUSE as day one of the trial dawned. It was like waiting for the hearse to arrive at the graveside. The crowds had already begun to gather in front. Some of them were morbidly curious onlookers. Some of them were protesters. A violence was brewing between those who were there in support of TABITHA and those who wanted justice to be done quickly and efficiently. The toxic mixture of outrage and revolution was flowing through them.

“You want to see her put on the performance of her life?” asked Lydia.

I smiled at the idea. Even then both of us expected Tabitha to arrive with airs and graces. I wanted to get a close observation but, as a witness, I had to be kept under lock and key with Lydia, who had been instructed by her superiors to accompany me at all times. I was glad to have her with me. At night in the hotel room I was contained in, my mind gave way to lonely thoughts.

To my surprise, although there were many calling the Boss Lady a murdering psychopath and baying for her blood, there were so many others who still hailed her as some kind of hero. She was a hero to the people of the Shanties for being bold enough to provide them with what they needed to survive. She was a hero to victims of sexual assault and violence given her own story, and her willingness to do whatever it took to open people’s eyes to what was a huge problem in the Shady City. That was no excuse though. In the eyes of the law two horrific crimes do not cancel each other out. She wasn’t in the Shanties any more. She was in the north, and there she was seen as a monster.

I was busy watching a woman screaming angrily, “Just take her out and hang her!” She had a child of about eight by her side doing the same thing. They could have been genuine but there was something set-up about those particular protesters, something that didn’t look quite right to me. Their clothing, positioning, banners and dialogue was all too neat. It wasn’t beyond the OWEN family to have set up stooges among the protestors to deliberately heighten the emotion.

“Here she comes,” said Lydia with a hand on my shoulder, pulling me from my thoughts. Cries of blood lust rang out as the crowd pushed forward.

Clang! Metal shuddered as someone outside hurled something heavy at the transport van. It caused Tabitha to jerk forward feeling as though it would hit her head. She could hear the angry voices outside, although slightly muffled. They called her the slut of the Shanties. They wanted to hang her. They wanted to burn her like a witch of old. Mob mentality had consumed them completely. More bangs against the walls as the transport drove through the crowd to the entrance of the Court House.

Fists were pounded against the sides. There was a splat as someone threw the rest of their latte at the narrow windows. She would never admit it to anyone but Tabitha had never felt so alone. There was no one around to support her. No Penns, no aunts and not even DENNIS. It had all come to being enclosed within a metal box. The rabble of hatred heightened and the venom became more potent.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

The crowd had pursued the van to the door.

“Get her out!” they chanted. “Get her out!”

Tabitha wanted to remain within the metallic tomb but the van shuddered to a halt.

The two escorting Bailiffs took their time from the slam of their doors to walk around the van and open up the back doors.

Clank, twist and suddenly the rabble became roars. As Tabitha’s eyes adjusted to the light she could see the sea of hatred she was cast into.

Without saying a word the Bailiffs fetched her and pulled her onto her feet. She was dragged out of the van. They slapped at her, the pulled at her hair and they kicked at her. There was a plant though. There was one among them on Owen Inc. coin to deliberately keep the crowd irate. It was he who threw the can of soup – full. It hit Tabitha across her face causing her to fall over. The Bailiffs halfheartedly pushed the crowd back but whilst they were lifting Tabitha onto her feet, another – feeling bold because of the rabble-rouser – ran at her and kicked her in the face.

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Before the violence of the crowd escalated further the Bailiffs finally rushed her inside to await her trial.

It was a long and painful walk from CPD custody into the hands of the Law Makers. The wounds were not nursed. She wasn’t even checked for damage. Judge Doyle wanted Tabitha to remember she was now in her domain.

Many a broken spirit had entered the draughty, emotionless halls of the Court House. Even more were broken before the bench of JUDGE DOYLE. The question on my mind then was how long would Tabitha’s spirit stand under the scrutiny of the Judge’s icy gaze.

***

Being unable to attend the trial personally until it was time for my own statement the following account is made up of the statements of those in attendance and court transcripts.

The hall was awash with nervous energy as Tabitha’s trial came to session. The only one who seemed unaffected by it was the lady herself who sat on her bench as though ready to watch a production play out before her.

ATTENDANCE: Judge Doyle: Presiding City Prosecutor Counsel for the Defendant: RONALD OWEN Defendant: Tabitha MC Clerks and Bailiffs Clerk: “All rise! Court is now in session. Judge Doyle presiding.”

In a flurry of black robes, The Judge entered the room and for a moment the slightest breath could be heard. Karyn Doyle took her bench; her terribly scarred left eye and the wound on her neck on full display. Tabitha glared at her but The Judge didn’t respond. The trial was opened under the proper procedure. The charges were read:

Embezzling city funds. Inciting violence. Murder in the second degree. Murder in the first degree. Three counts.

Judge Doyle addressed the murder charges first.

Judge Doyle: “Murder in the second degree of Mel Wallace – a clerk of this court.”

Mel had been the woman I had gotten the video of. Tabitha and MARCUS PENN had taken her to Clifton Alley running along the side of the club and had slit her throat. The video footage of this incident had been the final piece of evidence the LAW MAKERS needed to bring Tabitha in. It was second degree because the eldest Penn triplet had been the one to wield the killing blow.

Judge Doyle: “Murder in the first degree of Rob and Linda McInney, as well as Lynn Watson.”

Rob and Linda were Tabitha’s parents. It had been Dennis who had told me of their demise at the hands of their daughter as well as the nanny who had been put in charge of the wayward girl.

The Judge addressed Ronnie Owen as Tabitha’s counsel.

Judge Doyle: “How does your client plead?”

Ronnie Owen: “Ma’am, I would like to ask the court to allow us more time to prepare for this trial. There are extenuating circumstances and my client warrants a proper defence.”

The City Prosecutor stepped forward.

City Prosecutor: “Ma’am, the defendant was read her rights upon arrest. She was informed of all charges and my colleague has had ample time to prepare.”

Doyle addressed Ronnie.

Judge Doyle: “Is your client ill informed?”

Ronnie Owen: “No ma’am but on the charges of first degree murder there was an investigation at the time. John Watson, husband of Lynn confessed to the murder of Rob and Linda McKinney as well as Lynn Watson.”

Judge Doyle: “The confession was revoked and further evidence found. There is no statute of limitations on those charges.”

Ronnie Owen: “Ma’am I call for a mistrial until I can be properly prepared for this new evidence,” he tried.

The man with the Owen name really did try.

Doyle’s lip curled.

Judge Doyle: “I suggest, counsellor, that you make your client aware that there are consequences for her actions. The charges stand. If you are under prepared then you need to familiarise yourself with your client’s case history.”

It seemed Dennis had tried to navigate his way around CPD by telling them everything he knew about the death of Tabitha’s parents, including where they were likely to find the remains. His testimony gave the Law Makers reason to add the murder to Tabitha’s charge sheet, potentially sending her away even longer. The coroner’s report confirmed stab wounds. The nanny’s husband was pardoned and released. He suddenly had a solid alibi for the night in question.

Ronnie was not done.

Ronnie Owen: “As far as the charges of inciting violence, the so-called Free Fall Massacre was not a massacre at all. It was declared a terrible, drug induced accident at the time.” The Free Fall Massacre was an incident that occurred at the Beckingridge Tower just as the Knock Knock club reopened. There were whispers of Tabitha being the cause of the deaths of 59 people.

Judge Doyle: “How does your client plead?”

Ronnie Owen: “Ma’am I do urge the court to approach this matter with a clear head.”

Judge Doyle (unmoved): “How does your client plead?”

Ronnie Owen: “Not guilty, ma’am on all charges.”

Judge Doyle: “Return to your benches counsellors, and we will begin.”

Both lawyers gave their opening statements. The City Prosecutor as expected painted Tabitha as a monster. He described her as spoiled, murderous and lacking moral conscience. He asked the jury to consider that she didn’t care for the people of the Shanties the way she would have it seem. He asked the jury to consider the bodies she was responsible for but not yet charged with.

Ronnie called objection on this.

The Judge sustained. The trial was to be kept to the matters at hand.

The City Prosecutor mentioned my own part. He also discussed the death of Madeline and the statement I had given to the police at the time, discussing Tabitha having put the knife in Maddy’s hand, forcing me to defend myself against her.

Throughout the statements, Tabitha kept her gaze forward to The Judge. Doyle ignored her. During the City Prosecutor’s statement she was seen whispering something to Ronnie. I found out later that she was asking, “Where the fuck did they find Ma and Pa?” In Ronnie’s opening statement he asked the jurors to keep an open mind. He urged them to remember the shelters, food programs and support the Knock Knock club provided.

“That wasn’t that psycho bitch that did that. That was the Baroness,” someone in the audience called out.

Doyle slammed the gavel down. The noise of its fury echoed. Judge Doyle: “I will have no outburst in my court room. Do that again and you will be removed.”

(She turned to the sea of judging faces that were the jury). “The jury will disregard that comment.”

Ronnie continued. He played the angle of desperation anyone who had been to the Shanties would be familiar with. I wasn’t sure how much the jury would buy the rags to hero, standing for the little man story of Tabitha’s. She was, after all, a girl from Filton with every possible advantage that money could buy.

Even if he stood there all day explaining Tabitha’s reasoning, what her aunt tried to do for her, and those she had protected in her own sordid way; her parents were still butchered, the Free Fall Massacre had still happened and Mayor Feltz and his seventeen year old daughter Amber were still missing. This was all at Tabitha’s hand. The trial was going to be sticky.

I was most curious to find out Chick Owen’s thinking behind allowing his brother to defend her. It would have been so easy to put an Owen in there and watch her fall but from what I could see Ronnie was defending her to the best of his ability. Being kept in confinement at the time prevented me from calling on The Cappy to find out.

And with that Ronnie was pulling every lawyer trick he could, starting with a little public relations damage control. The trouble was, Tabitha was as guilty as sin. How long would the crowds outside calling her name stand in solidarity when the final hammer fell?

***

A chilling breeze blew through the Court Room. There was no comfort to be found in the dungeon of mahogany benches. Even the thick wine-coloured curtains that hung over the windows offered little cheer. The Boss Lady herself watched from the defendant’s bench like some wild animal in a zoo. There was anger in her grey eyes, that much was obvious but there was something else there too. It was something deep rooted. Fear perhaps? Like most cornered animals her first thoughts were escape.

ATTENDANCE: Judge Doyle: Presiding City Prosecutor Counsel for the Defendant: Ronald Owen Defendant: Tabitha MC First Witness: EB Clerks and Bailiffs

City Prosecutor: “The city calls their first witness, ma’am.”

Judge Doyle urged him to continue.

City Prosecutor: “We call ERNEST BECKINGRIDGE to the stand.”

There was a shuffle from the benches and a murmur of voices as a middle-aged man with greying, fair hair, dressed in a grey pin stripe suit crossed the aisles and was first to step up to the witness stand. He had warm features but great bags underneath his eyes. He was a man who had seen a lot. His shoulders were hunched like he had the weight of the world on them.

City Prosecutor: “Mr Beckingridge, you are CEO of the Beckingridge Financial Firm correct?”

Ernest Beckingridge: “Yes sir, that’s correct.”

City Prosecutor: “Can you please tell the court what happened the night of the Free Fall

Benefit held at BECKINGRIDGE TOWER in City Main? In your own words.”

The prosecutor looked back at the jury and scanned their faces for reaction.

Ernest looked to Tabitha.

Ernest Beckingridge: “My partner and I weren’t in attendance. We were going to LUEN on an early flight the next morning.”

Ronnie stood and raised an objection.

Ronnie Owen: “Ma’am, I fail to see what relevance this witness testimony has when he wasn’t there at the time.”

City Prosecutor: “The witness has a keen insight into what happened. Not just on the events of the Free Fall but also what happened afterwards.”

Judge Doyle: “Overruled. Mr Beckingridge you will answer the question.”

Ronnie sat back down as Ernest cleared his throat. He took a sip from the glass of water that had been provided for him.

Ernest Beckingridge: “I was awoken around eleven pm by my secretary Bernadette. She informed me that clients had been leaping from the top of the tower.”

City Prosecutor: “Did she explain as to why?”

Ernest Beckingridge: “A number of years ago an employee of the firm embezzled a large amount of money from the company. The case is still ongoing. We were lucky to have a new investor pull us out of the water as it were.”

The City Prosecutor stroked his chin.

City Prosecutor: “And these replenished accounts were the ones the defendant stole from?”

Ernest Beckingridge: “Yes sir.”

The prosecutor raised his voice so that it boomed across the hall.

City Prosecutor: “Could you please tell the court who had been this guardian angel for the firm? Where had this rescue investment come from?”

Ernest Beckingridge: “OWEN Inc.”

***

“We’ve got a great chance here,” said Mr Heath to his wife.

Mrs Heath agreed. It was a huge opportunity for them. It was one of the biggest investment accounts they had ever handled but her mind had been elsewhere. “Have you heard from Taylor?” she asked.

Their son, a 21-year-old finance student at FILTON University, was supposed to be coming home to their City Main apartment for the weekend but he never turned up that afternoon. They had of course tried contacting him but received no response.

“He’s a man now,” Mr Heath reminded her. “He’s probably gone off with his friends for the weekend instead.”

“But it’s not like him not to call and let us know,” replied she. Mr Heath glared at his wife. She was thinking of checking her phone again.

“This is the fifth time,” he barked. He was counting. Mrs Heath reached into the Luen designed clutch bag she carried, encrusted with real diamonds and removed a silver device. Still no notifications.

“Albert is waiting at home for him in case he turns up. He will be fine,” assured Mr Heath. What his wife didn’t know was that Taylor and some of his uni friends had been tasked with couriering some poor quality heroin into the Shanties – ‘needles’ they called it locally, because it was mostly injected. Mr Heath was beginning to think Taylor and his friends hadn’t taken the proper precautions. Their instructions had been to wear old clothing, not to wear jewellery or carry expensive items and speak to no one but their contact. Mr Heath didn’t like involving his son, but a group of youngsters could blend in better at Kirkton Apartments – where the exchange was to take place – than a business man from the north would. Besides, one day Taylor would take over his father’s business and so he had to learn all aspects of it. Taylor was no stranger to it anyway. He had been an effective courier since age twelve. He enjoyed the money and unlike many of his peers he didn’t have everything handed to him. He had to take on his share of the work. He earned his lifestyle and at great risk sometimes. Taylor Heath was not pampered through life – no sirree. Still, the Shanties were dangerous and it had been the first time Taylor and his friends had taken goods that far south. But it was also where the call for needles was highest. The people of the Shanties didn’t want to escape the poverty trap. They wanted to hide themselves and lie in it.

But they had bigger concerns. They had brought in Lynette Fullerton, of the Fullerton Bridge and the construction company that handled the biggest projects across the city. A stern old bitch with a real nasty bite Mr Heath observed, but with enough money to make life very sweet indeed. There was also Joshua Coby. New money. The young man was a software developer and when his apps and game designs went big he made more money than he’d ever seen in his life. More money than he could handle suggested Mrs Heath. That’s where the husband and wife team came in. They would be able to help him manage such a big fortune.

The Beckingridge Financial Firm had set sights on a project in the south that would brighten the area; make it a trendy spot for good time folk rather than a den for thieves and whores. It had been done before in Swantin. The Chamberlain Docks still belonged to prostitutes and traffickers at night but during the day there was a buzz in the place and the fashionable walked the streets.

To do this the firm needed investment in construction and design. That’s where the mismatched team of Fullerton and Coby would come in. The Heaths were experts at forming relationships.

Tabitha stood watching over the meeting. They were losing the support of Lynette Fullerton.

“Your family brought the city together. They built bridges Mrs Fullerton. We would love for you to be a part of connecting the north and south,” Mr Heath was saying, linking his fingers together to demonstrate his point. Fullerton was still sneering at the very idea of being associated with the Shanties. Now it was Mrs Heath who was making the plea.

“All the way to City Hall there have been cries to rejuvenate the south. On his campaign trail Mayor Feltz has made great strides in showing what improvements it could make to the poorest in the city.”

Lynette scoffed. Mrs Heath bit her lip. She probably shouldn’t have brought politics into it. She chastised herself. How likely was it that a Fullerton was a Feltz supporter anyway? Joshua took over. “I can see what you are trying to do,” he said thankfully. “The Fullerton Bridge worked wonders for the Cardyne area. It made us part of the Coldford community.”

Mr Heath beamed. “Yes and we can do the same again. We could be at the forefront of a new, modern Coldford.”

The door to the balcony opened briefly, allowing loud music and screams to enter briefly. The meeting downstairs continued uninterrupted. The door had closed again as quickly as it opened.

Tabitha rolled her eyes. “What a fucking douche bag,” she said referring to Mr Heath.

REGGIE PENN crossed the overpass carrying a woman over his shoulder. Drugged? Drunk? Probably both. She was one of the BECKINGRIDGE FIRM workers from the party upstairs. Reggie’s skin was ghoulishly pale in the low light compared to Tabitha’s darker complexion.

“It’s going to break,” he said.

Tabitha raised an eyebrow. “I bet you it doesn’t.”

Reggie looked down at the meeting below. “Drink says it does.”

Tabitha smiled. “You’re on.”

Reggie carried the woman to the ledge and launched her over the side. She plummeted down and crashed onto the table below.

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“Huh,” Reggie shrugged. “The table didn’t break.”

“Told you,” replied Tabitha. “No cheapo shit in here. It’s reinforced.”

Meanwhile, downstairs shock had captured the meeting as the four stared at the body.

“What the?” Mr Heath recognised her. She was one of the client support team. They assumed she had gotten too drunk and accidentally fell from the over pass.

“I’ll call an ambulance,” said Mrs Heath. All Mr Heath could think of was that there was no way they were getting their investment now.

“Well, hello cunts.”

The meeting was interrupted once again. A young woman, probably in her early twenties had entered from the upper floor. She was wearing an expensive red dress and grinning at them with a gap-toothed smile that seemed more chilling in its whimsy. “What’s going on here?” Mr Heath demanded to know.

Tabitha looked at the body of the client support girl. “I’d say it looks like you’re fucked. All four of you.” She turned to Joshua Coby. “Well, except maybe you. I actually kinda like you.”

“I’m calling the police!” Lynette announced.

“Oh shut the fuck up you ugly old troll,” Tabitha growled.

Mr Heath raged. He charged across the room to the girl. He drew himself closer to her but she was not intimidated. Instead she wrinkled her nose.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she said. “What have you sprayed yourself with?”

Mr Heath growled, “You’re dealing with a very dangerous man here.”

Tabitha chuckled. “Is that so?”

“You’re done!” Mr Heath yelled. “You’re done!”

Before he could strike Tabitha there was a firm grip on his hair, tugging at the roots and his head was pulled back so sharply pain fired through the muscles of his neck. He had made an insurance claim for whiplash before. It seemed this was what it actually felt like.

“Who’s done?” asked Reggie, scowling at him.

“I was just getting started,” commented Tabitha matter-of-factly. “This fucker is killing my groove.”

Mr Heath began to sob. He lost care of looking like he was in control for the sake of his wife and clients. Beckingridge was so large and vast it was unlikely anyone could hear him.

“Please,” he begged. “What do you want?”

Tabitha shook her head at Reggie. She opened her arms and shrugged.

“Now he asks.”

Reggie laughed. He flicked Mr Heath’s bottom lip.

“Bluh bluh bluh. Help me!” Imitated the youngest triplet in a high-pitched voice.

Tabitha turned to the others at the table.

“You may want to listen up because I have my own pitch to give.”

Still with a firm grip of his hair, Reggie led Mr Heath back to his spot at the table. Lynette recognised Reggie. He was one of Reginald Penn’s triplets but she wasn’t sure which one. Not that it really mattered.

She had had dealings with the Penns before, or at least her son did. Francis was leading the Fullerton Construction team and they had just bought a prime piece of land in the north of Coldridge Park. It was the same area the Faulds Building, within which the Penns lived in the penthouse, looked onto.

“That’s a shame,” Rita, the mother, had mused when she saw the construction signs go up. “I really like that part of the park. It is always kept so nice and it’s so lovely in spring.”

The beautiful garden she had started a committee to plant was to be bulldozed over to make way for industrial units.

Reginald wouldn’t stand for Rita looking onto grey buildings that would no doubt lie empty for some time attracting the artist youth and their spray cans. He wouldn’t have her beautiful view from the top of the city spoiled. She would keep her gardens. Reginald approached Francis with request to move on but he refused. The equipment was brought in. The area was blocked off. Reginald made another bid for him to move on but the Fullerton blood was thick and stubborn. Francis still refused.

Then, the day before construction was to begin the fences, signs and pop up office were taken down. By noon that day it was as though Fullerton construction had never been there. Lynette received a call from Francis’ wife Hannah. He had been taken to Coldford General Hospital. His right arm and four fingers on his left were missing. He said it had been an industrial accident but Lynette knew that wasn’t true.

“You may want to take a seat,” Tabitha urged. “I’m heading this meeting now.”

The table was set.

“Who are you?” Asked Lynette.

“I’m just a simple girl who wants to make you a counter offer. You see the so-called rejuvenation project these fucktards are talking about is a crock of shit. It would raise property prices in the area but in doing so put thousands of people out of a home. The houses would become unaffordable for the poorest like they did in Swantin. Where else are they going to go?”

“What else do you suggest?” asked Joshua. He was trembling but he tried to remain focused.

He spoke to the Boss Lady but he kept his eye on Reggie Penn, who was now pushing Mr Heath into his chair so forcibly his head was almost in his lap.

“Either you splash the cash or give your life.”

“You cannot threaten us!” Lynette sneered.

“Who’s threatening?” Tabitha asked. She turned to Reggie. “Did you hear me threaten anyone?”

Reggie shrugged his shoulders with a smile.

“I don’t threat. I make promises and I promised the good people of the south I would bring them compensation.” She sharpened her attention to the party-goer. “Did you know that your granddaughter is befriending girls in my neck of the woods, deliberately getting them hooked on drugs and coercing them into starring in porn films? After she makes money from them she leaves them high and dry, addicted, and humiliated without a pot to piss in. You will pay for the lives you and your like have ruined one way or another. You could say I’m collecting for charity. I just happen to be a little aggressive in my fundraising.”

“Why should we give anything to you? Get out of here!” barked Lynette.

Reggie snarled at the construction heiress but Tabitha shook her head signalling for him to take no action. He kept his eyes on Lynette but he was patting Mr Heath’s head and stroking his hair so roughly he was pushing his head into his lap again.

“It’s a pity this place is so damn big you can’t hear what’s going on upstairs.”

‘The party?’ Mr Heath thought. ‘Did those upstairs get started on the closing deal festivities already? Did they know what was happening?’ He had heard some music earlier and raised voices but it was a party. That was to be expected. As their captor said Beckingridge Tower was large and a company on such a grand scale needed their walls thick enough and ceilings high enough so that no one could overhear the decisions that were made in that room that affected millions of lives.

Reggie produced a phone from his back pocket and threw it across to Tabitha who caught it in her well-manicured talons. She pushed buttons and switched on the loud speaker. The ring echoed around the hall, much like being caught inside a church bell.

Rrrrrrrrrring!

It rattled.

Rrrrrrring rrrrrrring!

All eyes were on Tabitha. Even Mr Heath who Reggie had allowed to straighten his back but had wormed his fingers around locks of his hair so that his head was held in place.

“Hello?” Marcus’ cold voice, absent of emotion, came through the speaker.

“Hello handsome,” Tabitha said as though they were having a pleasant conversation elsewhere. “How are you?”

“Fine,” was the eldest triplet’s cool reply.

Things were not fine. Men, women – colleagues of the Heaths – were screaming and crying out. Above the music they could hear a woman’s gargling shriek that sounded as though she was being gutted.

“Negotiations here are starting to get a bit sticky so could you show these people just how fucking serious I am?”

“Alright, take a look to the window there and you will see what your other option is,” said Tabitha.

This time, as mighty as the Beckingridge Tower stood screams could be heard as bodies fell past from the upper floor of the penthouse suite.

A wave of confusion washed over the meeting room. They found it difficult to believe what their own eyes had just shown them.

“So?” Tabitha asked. “What’s it to be?”

***

Bodies rained from the tower that day. The rich elite of the city were given the choice. Their lives or their money. Most chose to go broke.

“Maybe having nothing will teach them a bit of humility,” Tabitha had said at the time, which was an ironic statement from one of the most egotistical people I’ve ever met.

“Well there’s some cheques that won’t bounce,” said Reggie with a sardonic grin.

Allow me to offer some rational thinking. Most of those affected by the massacre were owners of corporations and large firms. To give away every penny wouldn’t have just left themselves in dire straits, it would shock wave into their workers and clients, and so some brave souls would have chosen not to let that happen. It was this shock wave Tabitha had been hoping for. She wanted to hit Owen Inc where it would feel it most.

Refuse or not. Donate or not. Support their poorer neighbours in the south or not. Either way, blood stained the courtyard of Beck Tower. No charges were brought at the time against Tabitha because she wasn’t in the same room. The Penns avoided arrest because the team they had brought with them served witness that the party was drug and alcohol fuelled and things got out of hand.

Toxicology reports confirmed this. No one who survived dared point the finger. Life was going to be difficult enough without their wealth to prop them up though hard times. The police couldn’t do anything because no physical coercion could be proven. Forensic accountants couldn’t do anything because the funds that had been taken were officially registered as charitable donations. As the Beckingridge Firm stock prices plummeted too, Owen Inc. who had invested heavily were almost brought to financial ruin.

Quickly following the Free Fall Massacre were the attacks on Judge Doyle. Three times the Headliners tried to kill her. They cut the brakes of her car and watched as it rolled into the lake. She didn’t drown. She crawled back out of the lake and still she stood. An assault in City Main as she left her offices slit her throat but she managed to escape, seek help and still she stood. Finally, with help from the Macks they tried to catch her in a car bomb. The explosion detonated as expected. They managed to take her eye but The Judge lived. After all was said and done still she stood. The newspapers at the time reported on the assaults. They started to refer to her as the unkillable Judge Doyle.

And so with a political candidate in Mayor Feltz and the Beckingridge Firm at heel, Tabitha had a vice like grip on the city. But politics are dirty and Beckingridge Tower could fall in so many different directions. Enter an iron judge to remind the Boss Lady just how the rules were made.

Coming next: Whilst we catch our breath we’ll let the Law Makers take care of business.

In the meantime, the series is free to read HERE on Vivika Widow Online or you can download for kindle by clicking HERE.

KNOCK, KNOCK: Episode 1: Welcome to the Club

Knock, Knock: Episode 2: Don’t Come Knockin’

Knock, Knock: Episode 3: Sleep Tight Sam

Knock, Knock: Episode 4: Take A Bow

Knock, Knock: Episode 5: A Room With A View

Knock, Knock: Episode 6: Picking Up Strange Women

Knock, Knock: Episode 7: No Kids Allowed

Knock, Knock: Episode 8: Kids These Days

Knock, Knock: Episode 9: Shootin’ The Breeze

Knock, Knock: Episode 10: Calling Last Orders

Knock Knock: Episode 11: Shady City Blues

Knock Knock: Episode 12: Going Down

Knock Knock: Episode 13: Got the Fever

Knock Knock: Episode 14: Laying Down the Law

Knock Knock: Episode 15: Still I Stand

Knock Knock: Episode 16: Start Spilling

The trial of the Knock Knock Boss Lady begins. First up we take a look at the even known as the Free Fall Massacre that saw 59 dead at the Beckingridge Financial Firm. It was a bleak day. Not just weather wise. I was watching from a window that looked out upon the entrance of the…

#blog read #graphic novel #Knock #leo st paul #thriller #vivika widow

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vivikawidow · 6 years ago

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“PLEDGE TIME MOTHER FUCKERS!”

Whoops, cheers and spilled drinks. A KAPPA SO party was well underway. The KSO chapter house was located just a short walk from the campus of FILTON UNIVERSITY. Like most nights at the CHAPTER HOUSE things were heating up.

Chapter leader, BUDDY OWEN was pledging some new recruits. Most of them were sons of bankers, property developers, and politicians. The all had that in common – powerful parents. Famous names in the city like the financial giants BECKINGRIDGE and the WEIRS of WEIR HOTEL were just some of the elite who had pledged KAPPA SO. There were of course the OWEN family who had set up the fraternity in the first place as a means of connection between the Shady City and the GREAT STATES where they came from. A former pledge described the gruelling and sometimes ridiculous rituals. The brothers were anarchic, using their powerful names to get away with all kinds of debauchery. It was a system of too much power and too little responsibility that suited men like BUDDY well. If you were a brother you would never fail an exam at the university. The principal was also a brother. Job interviews, money and satisfying every whim. None of it would be a problem for the boys of KSO because they protected one another. The former member I spoke to wouldn’t give any details and he was visibly nervous when he mentioned it but pledging KSO was never easy. When it fell into the hands of BUDDY it became downright horrific. The fifth generation of OWEN to be Chapter Leader from its original founder no one could argue Buddy’s place in the chain of command. It was this kind of establishment that TABITHA sought to challenge. She wasn’t exactly the person to advocate for what was right but it did shed light on a bigger problem. Those in power had become so comfortable in their place over the generations it left little room for the average person.

KSO brothers didn’t care. They had always gotten along without consequences. Why should they worry then?

In some kind of sadistic homage to that principle Buddy had some of his pledges at heel. A group of boys, probably encouraged by their parents to endure the torture of pledging, now found themselves under the control of one of the most horrific people I have ever had the misfortune of meeting.

What began as games we all had played as students – drinking games, quizzes – quickly became sinister. Suddenly violence was introduced. The boys were forced to beat on one another, cut one another. They were humiliated. There was never anything fatal. They were all potential brothers after all. It they managed to endure the torture an easy life with every possible advantage was theirs to have and they would have the eternal support of their new brothers.

“Listen up bitches! Useless pieces of shit that ya’ll are, do you still think you got what it takes to pledge Kappa So?”

“Yes master,” the pledges replied in synchrony.

Buddy was dressed in a summer dress. Holding two black sex toys in his hands.

“Turn around. Ya’ll faces are making me sick,” he instructed.

On his right stood COOPER. He was Buddy’s right hand man in Chapter House. He too was from the Great States. On his left, wearing a crash helmet from an earlier drunken game and a bra was Chad.

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Chad leapt forward. “Yeah!” he cried out. “We’re gonna tickle your balls!” He waved his arms at his genitals. “Then you’re going to suck our balls!”

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Buddy’s cocaine fuelled gaze narrowed on his brother. “What the fuck?” He turned to Cooper. “What is it with him and the faggy shit?”

Cooper shrugged.

Buddy turned back to his pledges. “We are going under cover at a feminist rally. Some hippy skank dyke is trying to get us shut down. So y’all are going put on your mamma’s best Sunday Dress and beat the ever loving shit out her with these,” he waved the dildos. “Cock smack the shit out the lotta them. Do you hear me?!” His voice becoming like that of a boxing announcer.

The pledges cheered.

“Bud?” cried a female voice over the top of them. A cheerleader named Cheryl waved a phone at him. “Phone call.

Buddy rolled his eyes and sniffed. “I’m busy. Tell them to fuck off.”

“It’s The Cappy,” she said. The title of respect given to Buddy’s father caused a wave of hush to wash over the room.

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“Take care of those bitches,” he instructed his brothers who closed in on the pledges.

“Yeah?” He answered, tucking one of the sex toys under his arm.

“Please hold for MR OWEN,” his father’s secretary announced.

Buddy pursed his lips. “Yeah, whatever,” he replied.

The soft voice was replaced quickly by the harsher tones of his father. CHARLES ‘CHICK’ OWEN was head of the OWEN family. He was better known as the Captain or Cappy to his friends.

“I need you at the Court House early tomorrow,” said Chick without waiting for introductions.

“Yeah?” was Buddy’s challenging reply. Chick ignored it. There wouldn’t be too many allowances. “Be here at nine,” he ordered.

Buddy looked at the time on his wrist but he hadn’t worn a watch for years. Old habits died hard he supposed.

“Judge Doyle wishes to discuss the future of your internship.”

“Cool,” Buddy replied. The bell of the Chapter House rang.

“Bernard?” This time the Cappy addressed him sternly. “I’m not going to be disappointed, am I?”

‘Probably,’ thought Buddy. ‘Nothing pleases you anyway, you old fucker.’ But he thought better of voicing that opinion. He just needed to take another line of powder.

“No, sir,” he replied in his most innocent-sounding voice.

One of the brothers looked over and laughed as one of the pledges were being carried away. It seemed they were not good enough for KSO. The doorbell rang. It was opened to a group of prostitutes, or maybe they were girls from the university. It was difficult to tell. They all dressed like whores as far as Buddy was concerned. Either way, it would provide the nights entertainment and an extra incentive for the pledges still standing.

“Dad, dad, oh father dearest. Can I say something?” Buddy tried to break through the torrential lecture he was receiving on the other end of the phone.

Chick Owen growled, “What?”

“It’s gonna be a busy one. An all-nighter, in fact. Paperwork for the office and all that.I really should go.”

Chick didn’t rule as head of the Owen family through being naïve though. He had been KSO himself. Sure, he was the eldest and afforded authority on that account but compared to his brothers JERRY and RONNIE, he commanded respect. He knew his son well enough to be able to cipher through his nonsense.

“Be here at nine tomorrow and not a minute later. You and I are going to talk. If you are not here on time, I will send someone to fetch you proper.”

“Looking forward to it. Just all this damn paperwork first,” Buddy continued his pretence.

“Cuss me again, boy, and work will become the least of your concerns.”

“Yessir.” This time Buddy wondered how satisfying it would be to cock bash the old man.

The Cappy rang off. Buddy turned to his party. The girls were already being fed alcohol at an alarming rate.

Buddy waved the dildos. “Party time baby! Who wants cock smashed?”

***

A private estate in the north, adjacent to HARVESTER FARM, was where the OWEN Ranch in Coldford lay. It had been their first purchase when the family came over from the Great States. Since then they had built golf courses all over the area as well as snatching up other land for use later. DR WINSLOW, who owned Harvester Farm since the old Harvester himself fell ill, was still standing strong against the Owens’ buy-out of the area. He was one of few to do so. It was used as a personal retreat for Chick when he was in the city, which was becoming more and more often. His driver had brought him to the office of the LAW MAKERS.

Charles ‘Chick’ Owen was fair haired and long faced. His once blonde hair was lighter in tone than his dark eyebrows. The warm weather was continuing so he wore a cotton shirt underneath his well-tailored, Luen-made, pin stripe suit. As expected it was not ten past the hour of nine and Buddy was late.

Judge Doyle closed the door on a rabble of voices outside.

“Good morning Chick,” Karyn greeted first.

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“I hear there is good news on the KNOCK KNOCK front,” he said. “It’s been a pain in my ass for too long.”

“Tabitha’s trial will be pushed through as quickly as the LAW MAKERS can. We want it done cleanly and we want it done now,” said Karyn to the Cappy.

“It gives my heart some mighty fine relief to hear that,” he grinned. “The sooner the little bitch is put out of her misery the better.”

“We’ve also managed to bring in the PENN TRIPLETS,” added the judge with pride.

“I don’t care about those hammer-slamming weirdos. The little bitch is the only one I’m concerned with. Just make sure you have her on heavy lock down,” he added, his Great States accent pronouncing it as shoo-ah.

Karyn informed him, “We’ve already taken steps to put the KNOCK KNOCK CLUBinto administration.”

The Cappy grinned. “Music to ma ears,” he said.

“There’s just one more thing,” Karyn put to him. “I took Bernard into my service in good grace. A little girl has died at his hand, which I did not sanction. I want your assurances that that will never happen again.”

The Cappy leaned forward. “I heard. Some drug dealing scumbag named Kev and his daughter were shot. They were under Ron’s office.”

“We discovered that he was passing vital information to the HEADLINERS but the girl was not a target.”

Chick growled. “I’ll have a word with Bud. I already have Ronnie breathing down ma neck about it.” He looked over the judge’s shoulder. “Speaking of the do-gooding son’a’bitch.”

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Ronald ‘Ronnie’ Owen – the Cappy’s younger brother joined them, accompanied by Karyn’s cousin Micky Doyle and her son Cameron. Cameron was a strong, hulk of a young man just a few years Buddy’s junior. Shy, retiring. Chick surmised that couldn’t be helped, having such a dragon of a mother to contend with. Cameron was an intimidating size but it would be hard to find anyone of a gentler spirit.

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“Good afternoon, Mr Owen,” Cameron nodded respectfully. Ronnie was taller than Chick but a few years younger. He had the same jutting Owen chin but seemed more pleasant of face. Micky was wearing a large button that read:

MICKY DOYLE FOR MAYOR

“No time-wasting with the campaigning then Mick?” teased the Cappy.

“The HOT SEAT is open and it waits for no one,” Micky replied cheerily enough.

The previous mayor, FELTZ, was still missing. The LAW MAKERS were all but certain that Tabitha’s hand was in it but she was refusing to cooperate. Until such times as he could be retrieved from wherever he was, the HOT SEAT, which referred to the mayor’s office, had to be taken control of. It was located in a building in the north called CITY FACE, because of the large clock face at the front. If anyone had the bite to hold the hot seat it was Micky Doyle. No stranger to politics, he was as merciless as his cousin when it came to his pursuits but unlike the cold hand of justice, he was more personable. In a lot of ways that was more dangerous in taking control of a city.

“You okay there, Cam?” Micky clapped his cousin’s son on his shoulder. Cameron looked up from his game with a smile.

“You are being ignorant Cameron,” his mother barked.

Cameron’s eyes dropped to his feet, rather than back onto his game. “Sorry mum,” he said simply.

“We were just talking about the hard work you are doing keeping our city clean,” Chick was saying to his brother. Ronnie Owen was a lawyer and had taken over the Child Services Committee when Karyn Doyle became a high court judge.

“I do my best,” Ronnie agreed modestly.

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“All heart and no brains this one,” Chick laughed, putting his arm around Ronnie’s broad shoulder. He turned towards the clock, “Speaking of no brains.” He addressed one of the staff. “I’ll call Buddy and tell him to get his ass out here on the double. Pardon ma cussing ma’am,” the Cappy apologised to Karyn.

“We should have a drink to celebrate a job well done,” he said.

Karyn politely declined, “I’d rather not.” Chick looked to Cameron. “He won’t either.”

Cameron’s pocket began to bleep. He smiled as he began to content himself with an online game he had become engrossed in. He and user name REG3 had started to become quite a team but REG3 hadn’t been online lately. Still he played on alone.

Ronnie Owen observed Cameron. He had seen the look of abuse many times before.

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***

The house was cold. CAMERON hadn’t wanted to adjust the thermostat after what happened the last time. Things needed shaken up at COLDFORD GENERAL. The doctors there didn’t seem to know what they were doing.

“There’s going to be a pretty heavy scar,” the young attending physician had said. “I could look into skin grafting.”

He was at least ten years Karyn Doyle’s junior. He was barely a day out of FILTON Medical School. A real doctor wouldn’t have had to ask. A real doctor would have known she was going to wear her scars with pride. She would show the world what they tried to do to her and they would quiver because still she stands.

She rubbed the scar across her neck. It was like a noose that her skin had burned through. They told her that she could wear a patch over her eye, but she refused. She would never hide, and cowering behind an eye patch was hiding as far as she was concerned. When they looked her in the eyes they would see the damage that had been inflicted. They would see how much they had tried to hurt her and a shiver would crack down their spine because still she stands.

She looked deeper into the mirror. She lifted her chin. They would appear in her courtroom one by one and they would answer for their crimes. She would deal them her judgement. They would plea to her mercy. They would cry guilty and as her hammer fell they would beg forgiveness because, even after they tried to kill her,STILL SHE STANDS!

The front door slammed. An angry breath escaped her nostrils. The noise of Cameron’s return home was like pots being clattered in her ears.

“Mum?” Cameron called. When he saw her car in the driveway of their large KINGSGATE home he deduced she was home from the hospital. How clever he was.

He sought her out. He kept calling out to her. Why wouldn’t he shut up? She didn’t answer him but still he cried out. “Mum? Mum?”

It was a stupid title. There were so many in the world that went by that same title. It was a stupid title and ridiculously common.

He found her in the bathroom, observing herself.

“I’m glad you’re home,” he said.

She could see him smiling over her shoulder in the reflection. She could smell sweat on him. The icy tone was not new to his mother but given the attacks she had been subjected to he thought she would have been pleased to have her son by her side.

“Are you alright?” He was hesitant to ask. She hadn’t said anything about the hospital or what the doctors had said. Was it his fault? Should he have asked sooner? He had been playing football that afternoon, part of training for KINGSGATE ALBION. Why hadn’t he showered when he came off the pitch? Why did he think it was okay to come home bloodied and muddy, leaving footprints over a clean floor?

Karyn could feel her temples start to ache. She reached up and started to massage them with her forefingers. Cameron saw the warning signs. He should have known better.

“Cameron?” She said, her voice as cold as ice but calm.

Cameron’s head dropped. He averted his gaze to the floor immediately. That’s when he saw it. Flakes of mud had dislodged from his sneakers.

“Sorry mum,” he said softly. “Sorry mum!” He screamed as her temper unleashed. She grabbed him by the ear causing him to double over. She hit him with an astonishing force across his head. As large as he was, he would never hit her back. What kind of person would that make him if he could hit his own mother? He should have been paying more attention. WHACK! WHACK! She hit him again. The pain stung against his cheek.

“Please mum!” He sobbed.

WHACK! WHACK! His shrieks of pain just made her angrier. Her stockings laddered as he dug his nails into her legs.

He was beaten heavily. His nose burst and his face crashed against the tiled floor, the muddy prints marking his cheek. He started to feel a little dizzy. Something was not right but he dared not complain. She threw him back. Her full lips were puckered slightly. She kept hitting him until Cameron’s body fell limp. The blood trickling from his skull mixed with the mud and sweat. His shirt stained.

“Are you alright?” She barked the question, still angry. She hovered over him with her hands behind her back. “Get up.”

He didn’t want her to have to ask him twice. He stood as steady as his legs could hold him. Pain was firing through his skull as the shock of the assault wore off and he could feel the full brunt.

She wiped the tear from his eye. She clutched his face with cold, dry hands and pulled it closer to her. She kissed his forehead.

By the time they had gotten to Coldford General, this time with Cameron as the patient, fluid had gathered around the brain causing swelling. The doctors reduced the swelling as quickly as possible but Cameron would never be the same.

Cameron had been so worried about her. When the driver who collected him from training told her that his mother had been caught in an explosion, he ran to the door to see her without even saying please or thank you. It had been the third attack on her. They tried cutting her throat but still she stands. They cut the brakes of her car and watched it plunge into the lake. She did not drown. Still she stands. They tried to catch her in an explosion and yet still she stands. She was the unkillable JUDGE DOYLE. Justice is immortal.

Free to read HERE on Vivika Widow Online or you can download for kindle by clicking HERE.

KNOCK, KNOCK: Episode 1: Welcome to the Club

Knock, Knock: Episode 2: Don’t Come Knockin’

Knock, Knock: Episode 3: Sleep Tight Sam

Knock, Knock: Episode 4: Take A Bow

Knock, Knock: Episode 5: A Room With A View

Knock, Knock: Episode 6: Picking Up Strange Women

Knock, Knock: Episode 7: No Kids Allowed

Knock, Knock: Episode 8: Kids These Days

Knock, Knock: Episode 9: Shootin’ The Breeze

Knock, Knock: Episode 10: Calling Last Orders

Knock Knock: Episode 11: Shady City Blues

Knock Knock: Episode 12: Going Down

They tried to hurt her and yet still she stands. “PLEDGE TIME MOTHER FUCKERS!” Whoops, cheers and spilled drinks. A KAPPA SO party was well underway. The KSO chapter house was located just a short walk from the campus of FILTON UNIVERSITY.

#author #gets aphic novel #Knock #leo st paul #shady city thrillers #the knock knock club #thriller #vivika widow

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vivikawidow · 6 years ago

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In the Eye of the Storm

Strong morals aren’t going to get you far in the Shady City. It’s more likely to get you killed.

The Shady City can be a great place for those wanting to make a name for themselves. But if you do want to cause a stir you best be ready for who’s watching.

In a city filled to the brim with corruption those in power will stop at nothing to make sure things run their way.

The law is the law and it stops for no man, not even moral reporters who just want to get to the heart of the truth. That…

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#coldford #Coldford daily #graphic novel #Knock #leo st paul #sam crusow #thriller #thriller book #vivika widow

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vivikawidow · 6 years ago

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In the largest office of the Law Makers, adjacent to the COURT HOUSE, dwelled a figurehead that loomed over the city like a great vengeful deity. JUDGE KARYN DOYLE. She began her career as the youngest district court judge in Coldford history and the first woman to sit on the Children’s Services Committee. She was a pioneer in a lot of ways. Justice was always her objective but what did that mean? On the face of it, that meant wrongdoers were put behind bars. People like TABITHA and the HEADLINERS wouldn’t be tolerated in her city and she would stop at nothing until satisfactory justice had been served. Justice is a set of scales though. They had to weigh up and balance. Therefore, justice was also seeing families made homeless because of unpaid rent. Justice was tearing families apart because fathers didn’t have work permits. Justice was punishing someone for fighting to protect him or herself. Justice was having a young girl’s underwear on display because some depraved rapist took advantage of her. Justice could see a rich, powerful family using their influence to protect them from slander. After everything I’ve seen in the Shady City, nothing surprised me. Justice, however, was supposed to be blind. Cold facts and evidence were supposed to be the deciding factors. Tabitha had committed some horrendous crimes and she would pay for them, but how would those scales of justice weigh up against her? Would justice even listen to the truth or would the sight of the red dress and an unrelenting attitude blind them? Tabitha wouldn’t break easily. What worried me was the extent the LAW MAKERS, who had her in their grasp, would go to in order to make sure that she did. Justice loved breaking down those who would not follow her laws. She fed on it. Tabitha deserved punishment but who else would come to harm in the process? For the time being she still had two well-polished fingers held up at them and she taunted. “You know where to find me. Come and get me.” There was nothing they could do. There were rules to follow and what was justice without rules? But as AGENT LYDIA, relieved of her under cover duties at the KNOCK KNOCK CLUB and her supervising partner AGENT KIM climbed the steps of the Law Makers office the rules were about to change.

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Chaos already had the attention of justice. When chaos is allowed free roam, mistakes can be made. BERNARD ‘BUDDY’ OWEN grinned. He was from an extremely powerful family who hailed from the Great States. Their influence in the Shady City was growing by the day. They arrived in Coldford with the luxury of money and pull. Hand in hand those things are often used to fill the scales of justice. Give a little money, a little politics and you find the scales never weigh against you.

Judge Doyle spat. “There was a little girl shot dead in the Shanties and there is talk that Kappa So was responsible.”

The little girl she referred to was Sarah. I had tried to take her from the club and mistakenly return her to the father. The truth was the little girl’s father, Kevin, had been selling drugs provided by Kappa So – a fraternity group founded by Buddy’s family generations before through Filton University. Kevin had become nervous. He revealed he was willing to speak to CPD but before he could he and his daughter were gunned down. Dead bodies littering the street through violence was not an uncommon sight in the Shanties but what caught Judge Doyle’s attention was that the shots had been delivered on both with pin point accuracy. The Owen’s had a reputation for being natural marksmen. They learned to handle guns on their many ranches from an early age. It was said that an Owen was handed a pistol before they were given their mother’s breast. Buddy in particular was so at home with gun in his hand it was a more like an extension of a limb.

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Doyle took a seat at her long, mahogany desk. The room smelled of fresh polish. The office was a wide space, steeped in shadows. It was unwelcoming. A cold draught circulated. The Judge had a clear view of the world from behind that desk.

“I don’t know anything about it,” he said. He was still grinning, remorse lacking.

“It was a hit from someone who knew how to handle a gun.”

Buddy’s grin widened. His square set jaw tightened.

“I will keep my ears open for the culprit ma’am.”

Doyle surveyed him. The grin fell from Buddy’s face.

“If I do find out you were responsible Bernard, there will be consequences,” asked Doyle. Her voice was steady but the threat underneath weighed heavy.

Buddy softened. “If it was one of ma boys ma’am I will find out.” he insisted.

Doyle raised her chin. “See to it that nothing like that happens again. If I hear any more of drugs, violence or assault through your Chapter House I will shut it down.”

Buddy relaxed his shoulders and stood straight. “Yes ma’am.”

A buzzer sounded. Doyle answered the call from her secretary.

“Agents Lydia Lowe and Kim Adams are here to see you ma’am.”

“Send them in,” the judge ordered. She addressed Buddy. “You, get out of my sight.”

Buddy obliged. Before he reached the doorway she called him back. “And Bernard, there will be consequences for the death of that little girl,” she warned.

As he opened the door he came face to face with the two agents. Lydia was astute. She sensed the tension between Buddy and the Judge. Buddy held her gaze

“Bernard,” barked the Judge again. “Eyes on the exit.”

Buddy pushed past. The agents entered the office of the judge and the door closed behind them.

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The agents stood before the large desk. The Law Maker symbols on the pillar behind her felt like the eyes of Gods watching. Judge Doyle remained silent until Buddy had cleared the room.

“Congratulations on your success,” the Judge broke the heavy silence. “I hear she is now in custody.” She referred to Tabitha, Boss Lady of the Knock Knock Club.

Kim responded, “Yes, ma’am. We have also taken the Penn triplets into custody.”

“A job well done then,” stated Doyle coldly. The mother of the triplets, Rita Penn, didn’t take much to do with the running of things ever since the father of the triplets, Reginald, left them the Auction House. It was their chance to bring order to both the Shanties, home of the Knock Knock Club, and City Main, the area that housed the Penn Empire.

“Agent Lowe,” the judge turned her attention to Lydia. “I will expect a full report by tomorrow. We need to move things along quickly whilst we can.”

Lydia nodded in agreement. “Yes, ma’am.” Lydia knew better than most how much of a slippery fish Tabitha could be so time was of the essence.

“The Bailiffs will take it from here but I do have a specific request for you, agent.”

Lydia looked to Kim first then back at the Judge to wait for her instructions. “I have issued a gagging order on the reporter, Sam Crusow. I can’t have him talking to anyone about what happened until trial is fixed. Am I correct in saying you formed something of a bond with him? You were the first to recover him from the club and you testified to his innocence in the death of his colleague, MADELINE LOWER.”

“I had a little chance to talk to him. Getting him on the inside is the thing that gave us what we needed to bring Tabitha in. She pitted his colleague against him and he defended himself. He’s a good man.” Lydia spoke warmly on my behalf. Doyle pursed his lips. “Good man or not, reporters are dangerous. There will be enough fuss to shut out from the press because of this and I can’t have someone with his insight at large. He is a key witness and as such I want you to stay close to him. For his own protection of course and to make sure he does not under any circumstances violate my order. You have a rapport with him. Keep him calm and keep him safe.”

Lydia agreed, “Yes ma’am.”

So the agent was tasked with being by my side. As trial was set and events continued to spill out I would be glad to have her close by me.

As they stepped outside the Court House into the warm afternoon air Lydia felt ill at ease.

Lydia expressed her concern to her mentor.

“Something is a bit off about this,” she said. Her instincts were telling her something was wrong but until more motives revealed themselves she couldn’t quite put her finger on what that was.

Kim agreed. “I know, pet. Just keep your eyes open.”

“Tabitha will use any trick she has to get away,” added Lydia. She had seen some of the extents the Boss Lady had been willing to go to to get her way.

Kim shook her head. “Then let’s hope we’ve delivered her to the one person in the city who can put her away for a very long time.”

Judge Doyle was already aware of the questions that were formulating in my head. For example, where did this bad blood between the Boss Lady and The Judge first begin?

***

“Case file 03300347,” announced the clerk. The room was almost empty. A woman sat at the back holding two boys close to her. Tabitha watched them. One of the boys looked up and managed a small smile. Tabitha returned with a similar gesture. None of the family looked like they had slept much in days. Their black skins were lack lustre and the mum’s eyes were blood shot.

“Case file 03300347. McInney. Step forward,” the clerk ordered.

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Aunt Tee patted Tabitha’s arm. “Alright honey, it’s now or never.” She shuffled from the pew they were sat in, a few rows in front of the family. Tabitha waited patiently. A cold draught blew around her with her aunt’s curvy frame removed. She had been staying at the Knock Knock Club for the past few weeks. Her parents were of course furious, but they didn’t care enough to retrieve her. TAWNY, the old Baroness of the club swore to her that she didn’t have to go anywhere. Not at least until they had had their day in court. Tawny saw that her niece was nervous that morning so she tried to fill her with confidence.

“It’s all about creating a good impression,” said the aunt. She held a pair of old spectacles to her face. “Business woman,” she pulled them away. “Gal on the go.” She put the glasses to her face again. “Business woman.” She pulled them away. “Party girl!” Tabitha had giggled. Her smile calmed Tawny’s own nerves. Before she faced the Judge she flashed her niece a confident smile. Tabitha could see the fear behind her eyes. There was so much at stake. “Good morning, ma’am,” greeted Tawny keenly. Judge Doyle offered an emotionless stare from behind her desk. She motioned for Tawny to come closer. “I see you have raised a petition for custody,” began the Judge. “The child in question is your niece. Is that correct?”

Tawny answered smoothly. “Yes ma’am. That is correct.” She gave a fleeting glance back at Tabitha as though she was checking she was still there. “Both of her natural parents are still living?”

Tawny agreed. “Yes, ma’am. They reside in FILTON.”

“I see,” Doyle mused. She flicked through some pages of notes that lay on her bench. “You do realise it is never the intention of this court to remove a child from their parents unless there are extenuating circumstances.”

Tawny remained cool but the emotion in her voice wavered a little. “There are circumstances, ma’am, really dire ones.”

Doyle pushed the notes aside. She wanted to address the petitioners directly. She leaned forward a little and fixed her gaze on the Baroness. Her eye and her neck were fine in those days. Her scars non-existent.

“Then why don’t you explain it to me.”

Tawny took a deep breath. She hadn’t wanted to discuss what had happened in such a public forum for Tabitha’s sake but she was left with no choice.

“My brother and my sister-in-law accepted money in exchange for the prostitution of my niece.”

Judge Doyle’s expressionless deportment fell into a severe frown. She reached for her notes and again flicked through them.

“That is a pretty damning accusation,” stated the Judge.

Tawny fidgeted with the blazer she wore in an attempt to seem official. “I was appalled when I heard ma’am. She’s just a little girl.”

The judge gave no clue to her thinking in her expression. “I see no police report here.” Tawny had to admit. “It wasn’t reported.”

As the Judge rested back in her chair to observe Tawny clearer, a shadow cast across her eyes.

“Why ever not? Surely if you found out such a thing it would be your first course of action? A crime of that magnitude against the child should have been reported?”

“My brother has some pretty powerful friends. It wouldn’t have helped. That’s why I wanted to appeal to you directly, ma’am. I was worried it wouldn’t reach the right ears.”

“And you were there? You saw this exchange take place?”

“No,” Tawny had to admit. “But Tabitha told me about it. My sister-in-law’s family have been drivers for the Owen family for years. They were having a party one night and made Tabitha their centre focus like she was some kind of prize. Reverend Jerry Owen was the one who organised it. He was the one that gave them the money.”

“I know Reverend Owen personally. He is a very well-respected member of the community, a charitable man. Are you saying he raped her?”

Tawny shook her head. “He didn’t get the chance to. She fought him off like a champ and ran to me.”

“So he never actually touched her?”

Tawny frowned, “What difference does that make?”

Judge Doyle waved for her to be quiet. “Suppose I accept your story and this is true. Are you fully prepared to accept responsibility for your niece?”

Tawny beamed, thinking she was finally getting through the icy exterior. “Of course.”

“Where would she be schooled?” asked the Judge.

“I … errr …” Tawny hesitated. “In the city I guess.”

The Judge leaned over and whispered something to the clerk. He took note.

“And what is it you do?” The Judge asked her.

“I’m a performer. I own a club in the city. The Knock Knock Club.”

Without looking at Tawny, Judge Doyle began taking notes. “I’ve heard of the Knock Knock club. It has quite the reputation. A night club isn’t exactly the appropriate place for a child.”

Tawny replied, “Maybe not ma’am but she has had more love and support there than she ever did at home. Ye have no idea what they’ve put that girl through!” As she became more desperate her Hathfield Bay accent started to creep in.

The judge read from the notes. “I see you have a partner.”

“Yes, a loving woman. Agnes.”

Judge Doyle looked up. Her focus locked on Tawny again. “I notice that she isn’t here with you. Is she also willing to accept responsibility for the child?”

Tawny tried to mask her frustration but it spilled into her words. “She loves Tabitha just as much as I do.”

Judge Doyle abandoned her notes and crossed her arms in front of her. “Tell me something. Is your niece happy at home?”

Tawny frowned – an alien expression on her round, pleasant face. “Of course, she isn’t. Her parents are monsters.”

Judge Doyle returned to her notes once again. A silence washed over them as she read more. Footsteps in the corridor outside broke it. The woman at the back began sobbing silently on the shoulder of her eldest son, still wrapped up in her own drama.

Judge Doyle addressed Aunt Tee again. “I see here you had a mental breakdown – acute anxiety disorder. Is that correct?”

Tawny shook her head. She hadn’t prepared for that coming up. “That was a long time ago,” she explained. “I was overworked, setting things up with the club. I just want to protect my FUCKING NIECE! …” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry ma’am. I just want to protect my niece. She’s just a little girl.”

The gaze of the judge narrowed. “I understand that emotions are running high but you will conduct yourself properly in my court or I will dismiss your case immediately. It is admirable that you want to protect her but let’s not forget that this is a troubled young girl. I see she has been in Jefferson Hall no less than five times. Assault and battery, mostly.”

Jefferson Hall was the juvenile detention center in Coldford for wayward children who were too young to be sent to the Monte Fort or Coldford Correctional.

Tabitha stood up. “You don’t know me!” She screamed, startling the family in the back. “You can’t say that.”

Tawny turned and tried to usher her to sit down. “Tabby, honey,” she said. “It’s fine. Just sit. It’s okay.”

Tabitha clamped her hands on her hips and scowled. “That cunt thinks because she’s sat behind the big desk in her big fucking chair she knows me! Because of a few bits written on a piece of paper.”

Aunt Tee tried again. “Tabby, please just calm down.”

Judge Doyle gathered the notes she had authoritatively tapped together on her desk. Her lip curled and her nostrils flared.

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“Young lady, approach my bench,” she spat with venom. Tabitha obliged but she was still furious. When she stood before her The Judge said, “this court will not tolerate that kind of behaviour and for that I am dismissing your case indefinitely.”

“No!” Tawny lost her composure. “You can’t! Please just give us a chance.”

“From what I see, you are not fit to be a guardian.”

Tawny stepped forward. “I’m begging you, ma’am, please. She is not safe in that house. Please just let her come with me.”

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Judge Doyle kept an icy stare on the aunt. She passed her notes to her clerk. “I’ve made my decision,” stated she.

Tawny started to sob. “She’s a good girl really. She has had her problems but she’s a good girl. They tried to buy her so she could be passed around society perverts. They stripped her down and put her on display. Please don’t send her back to that. Let her stay with me where she will be safe.”

Doyle’s arm dropped. She looked at Tabitha. The mother at the back pulled her boys closer.

“Given these accusations I have no choice but to raise it with my colleagues at the Child Services Committee. They will investigate. You are to return her to her parents within the next 24 hours until this investigation is complete. If you fail to comply, I will revoke the licence of your club and you will find yourself under charges. Do you understand?”

Tawny pulled Tabitha closer to her.

“This isn’t over,” Tabitha growled.

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Well there you have it folks. We know how our Boss Lady can hold a grudge!

Next week it’s time to see why the unkillable Judge Doyle earned herself such a reputation.

In the meantime: Here’s the story so far:

Free to read HERE on Vivika Widow Online or you can download for kindle by clicking HERE.

KNOCK, KNOCK: Episode 1: Welcome to the Club

Knock, Knock: Episode 2: Don’t Come Knockin’

Knock, Knock: Episode 3: Sleep Tight Sam

Knock, Knock: Episode 4: Take A Bow

Knock, Knock: Episode 5: A Room With A View

Knock, Knock: Episode 6: Picking Up Strange Women

Knock, Knock: Episode 7: No Kids Allowed

Knock, Knock: Episode 8: Kids These Days

Knock, Knock: Episode 9: Shootin’ The Breeze

Knock, Knock: Episode 10: Calling Last Orders

Knock Knock: Episode 11: Shady City Blues

Knock Knock: Episode 12: Going Down

Knock Knock: Episode 13: Got the Fever

Your appointment with Judge Doyle has been set. Don't be late. In the largest office of the Law Makers, adjacent to the COURT HOUSE, dwelled a figurehead that loomed over the city like a great vengeful deity.

#baroness #boss lady #Buddy Owen #graphic novel #judge doyle #kappa so #knock knock club #Knock #leo st paul #tabitha #tawny #thriller #vivika widow

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vivikawidow · 6 years ago

Text

Served Cold

Please note the Knock Knock club holds no responsibility for any legal tangles you may find yourself in as a result of a good time.

The Knock Knock club closed almost as quickly as it reopened. With the Boss Lady behind bars and the power house that is the Penn Auction House silenced where does that leave the Shady City?

Find out as the story continues with issue 14: Laying down the Law. Available on Kindle tomorrow and free to read here on Widow Web Monday from 6pm (UKST).

Yeah we know Buddy, we’re excited too! 😏

Tension is…

View On WordPress

#Buddy Owen #graphic novel #judge doyle #Knock #leo st paul #thriller #vivika widow

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vivikawidow · 6 years ago

Text

“I love you Dennis.” CHLOE wept. “I love you more than anything. I really do.”

“Shut up,” REGGIE PENN – the youngest of the Penn triplets – shoved her dismissively away. Her thin, little body was unable to hold up against his strength. She fell against the wall and slipped down onto her bottom, weeping. MARCUS – the eldest triplet by three minutes – circled DENNIS like a hyena stalking its prey. Dennis should have known. Nowhere in the Shady City was safe from her. He had been so careful in hiding Chloe. One of the clients must have sung.

Chloe wasn’t a KNOCK KNOCK girl though. TABITHA shouldn’t have even known about her. Surely a stern warning for using the club as a venue for prostitution would be called for? A debt to pay for the money he had collected perhaps? Dennis wondered if they had found out he had spoken to me, a reporter. The Penns were only at two-thirds of their strength but the odds were still stacked in their favour.

“I’ll pay you half of anything I earned,” Dennis pleaded.

Reggie laughed. Marcus remained stoic. Reggie’s grin was sinister under a mop of blonde hair.

“Don’t hurt him. I liked doing it,” Chloe called out. “He wanted to make money and I wanted to make him happy.”

Marcus’ lips tightened. Reggie folded his arms. Dennis knew this wasn’t going to be a stern warning. Tabitha was sensitive on certain subjects. He should know that better than most.

“Pack him up for the AUCTION HOUSE,” was Marcus’ decision for Dennis. “The girl will come with us too.” Dennis’ chances of survival were becoming even more limited by the minute.

The room in the Auction House he had been taken to only offered one route of escape. The smell of the perfume Chloe had generously sprayed on (perfume Dennis had given her) masked the odour of damp rot from the old artifacts that would normally be kept there.

“C’mon guys. See sense in this. You’re businessmen. The girl told you she consented to it. She consented to all of it. I kept her safe. I’ll cut you in, all three of you.”

“You talk so much bullshit I can smell it on your breath you slithering cunt,” Reggie grinned. Marcus turned to him and with a gaze – no gesture or words – his brother fell silent.

“You are telling me that she consented to hundreds of men?” Marcus pressed.

“She was given her share,” Dennis replied.

Chloe pleaded, “I did it because I love him and I wanted him to be happy.”

Marcus ignored her. “You are telling me that she consented to being bound, beaten and left bloody?” He kept his steely stare focused on Dennis. Reggie loomed behind him.

“It was what the client wanted,” Dennis explained. Normally a man of silver-tongued words, they were falling flat for the former Knock Knock club manager.

“What about what she wanted? You took that choice away from her.”

Chloe leapt to her feet. “Please don’t hurt him!” She rushed at Reggie, her tiny fists pounded on his chest. He grabbed her narrow wrists.

“Would you look at this?!” he jested, shoving Chloe’s malnourished frame back into the chair again. She dropped her head into her hands and started to weep.

“You took that choice away from her,” Marcus repeated, “just like you took that choice away from all those other little girls.”

Dennis’ eyes widened. ‘Shit!’ he thought. They weren’t really there about prostituting Chloe after all. It was about his taste for young flesh. Underage flesh. Tabitha had been biding her time, torturing him. Finally, she was ready to deliver her punishment. It didn’t make any sense that she would leave it to the triplets though. She made Dennis her whipping boy years ago. Surely she would have wanted to be there for the finale. Without the bitch in the red dress pulling the strings of her triplet marionettes it seemed even more chilling, more uncertain.

“That hasn’t been an issue for a long time. I gave up everything. I gave up my family. Just ask the Boss Lady!”

Marcus flanked his right side. Dennis had a clear view of the doorway. He could take his chances and run for the door, but had he become so heartless and self-preserving that he would leave Chloe in the hands of the Penns? She was a victim as far as they were concerned. But if Dennis fled, who knows what they would do to deliver their own brand of justice.

“I’m not a man like you Dennis,” Marcus stated, his voice booming an echo against the old walls of the Auction House. “I’m giving you a choice. Life or death?”

“Life Dennis! Live with me,” Chloe screamed.

Reggie grabbed her by the chin. His thick blonde hair concealed some of the spark behind his eyes. “If you don’t shut up and let us do our job, I’m going to cut you open from tit to toe.”

“Reg!”

Reggie looked back at his brother. “She’s really grinding me. Her whining voice got on my last nerve about a half hour ago.”

“Let me go. I’ll go far away. You’ll never have to hear from me again. I’ll disappear,” Dennis put in.

Marcus needed confirmation. “So you are choosing life?”

Dennis hadn’t survived as long as he had without having his wits about him. He was shrewd enough to know that whatever the Penns had planned for him, death would be preferable. But he had his son, MILO, to think about. He hadn’t seen his boy in years. He would be so grown up by now. He wondered if the head of thick, dark hair he had been born with would have lightened or if it was still the same. OLIVIA, his ex wife, had wanted to change the world in her own little way, make it a better place. She thought she had been helping those little girls by bringing them into her home as a social worker. She didn’t know she had been bringing them into the clutches of a predator. Tabitha had been one of those girls. She had been the one to tame that predator, removing his sharp teeth and his appetite along with it. “Life,” Dennis agreed. Whatever horrors the triplets had to inflict would be nothing if it meant seeing Milo again. Marcus turned with raised eyebrows to Reggie. Reggie drew a phone from the back pocket of the black jeans he wore. He dialled. There were a few rings that seemed to echo the beat of Dennis’ heart. Ring ring, ring ring. “We’re going to need Big Cathie down here. Dinner for two.” “No!” Dennis cried out. “No, I changed my mind. I choose death. Please! I choose death!” “Too late,” said Marcus simply. With a whack Dennis was knocked out cold. When Dennis came to again they had stripped him naked. He tried to run towards Chloe who waited hysterically in the hall. They caught him and dragged him back.

“Reg?” Dennis tried the younger. “I thought we were pals? Haven’t I turned a blind eye to some of your depraved appetites over the years?”

Reggie’s tastes weren’t for flesh. Women or even men interested him little. What he had was a morbid fascination with cruelty, ever since he was a little boy.

“One thing I’ve learned,” Reggie replied. “People suck. And you are dregs of them all.” Abandoning reason due to the danger he was in, Dennis did try to run but like a rabbit caught in a trap there was no logic to his escape.

***

An excruciating hour later the security door buzzed. Reggie answered and allowed entry to a skeletally thin man who reached over six foot tall. He was the monster of a man they called Big Cathie. He was so called because of the catheter in his hand attached to a drip he pulled behind him.

He wasn’t long for the world. Cathie was an AIDS patient. He would be dead soon by some disease or other, but in the meantime the Knock Knock Club kept him in a life of luxury because they found him most useful. The HIV virus proved a useful tool in threatening enemies when they refused to cooperate, and when all else failed a way of inflicting a slow and painful death. There were treatments of course but the virus was still enough to elicit fear in the most stubborn.

Cathie was treated like a king on behalf of the HEADLINERS. In return he would oblige their wishes. Tabitha was a good woman as far as Cathie was concerned. Life had dealt him a harsh blow. He had two sons and a wife he would be leaving behind. His wife didn’t want to know him but he could at least provide something for the boys. Tabitha guaranteed that in exchange he would use his horrible virus to infect creeps like Dennis.

Cathie had only met the club manager once but his reputation preceded him.

“Little kids? That’s fucking disgusting,” Cathie had agreed. The Penns saw infection with HIV as something of poetic justice.

“Look guys. This is unnecessary. If the Boss Lady thought I was so dangerous she wouldn’t want me running around when I could infect young girls, would she?” Dennis played the only hand he had left.

“Are you suggesting that if we do this we won’t be teaching you a lesson?” Reggie put to him.

“It could make me dangerous,” stated Dennis.

Reggie brushed his hair back and grinned. “Who says we were going to let you go?” Marcus gripped Dennis by the throat. “It’s a terrible thing, taking a young girl before her time. It can be painful for her but it is also damaging in ways that will never heal. Your filthy fucking stench will gnaw at her for the rest of her life. So you are now going to sample at least some of the hurt you inflicted on those innocents. This virus will eat away at you. Just like those little girls now afraid of anyone touching them, you will feel what that is like as disease courses through your veins. When you stole the innocence of those little girls you gave them a life sentence. The virus is going to steal a little part of you away every minute of every day. What will kill you? Measles? Rubella? Common cold? Who knows, but maybe then you will have some idea of the torture you have put your victims through. They will never get over what you did to them just as you will never recover and you will never come within sight of your little boy again.”

“C’mon Marcus. This is just a scare tactic. I submit okay. I submit!”

As Reggie spoke, Dennis heard Tabitha’s voice. “No scare tactic this time. So you can drop your pants and bend over or you can take that poisoned cock in your mouth. You see? Choices!”

“I know Tabitha is a spiteful bitch but please …”

Reggie pointed to Cathie’s flaccid penis. “You better get that thing fired up. This one is a wriggler.”

Dennis was laid across the table. Cathie hovered in the corner like the threat of a biblical play. Marcus set about securing Dennis to the spot. Reggie climbed up on the table and sat down.

“You see the game last week Cath?” He asked Cathie.

He was referring to a football match between Coldford City and the western town of Bellfield. City was the richest and biggest team in the area. The father of the triplets, Reginald, was a proud supporter of the team and now the Penn Auction House sponsored them.

“I didn’t watch the second half,” Cathie admitted. “Those Bellfield scumbags should never have gotten a penalty.”

Reggie nodded in agreement. “You are right there. Should have put four past them, if it weren’t for their fucking keeper.”

Cathie nodded consolingly. Meanwhile Marcus continued securing Dennis to the table.

When he finished, Reggie cheered. Dennis could feel the dirt and crumbs of the table against his bare stomach. Marcus was seated at the table’s end, watching with an expressionless, cold stare. Reggie was standing beside him. Chloe was still crying hysterically out in the hallway. She couldn’t quite comprehend what was happening. All she could say was, “Special cuddles for Dennis because I love him.”

Big Cathie had his hands clamped around Dennis’ waist.

“I know he’s an ugly cunt,” Reggie commented to Cathie. “Just close your eyes and think of City.”

***

Reggie stepped outside the Auction House where the air was cooler. The interior always seemed so claustrophobic to him despite its high ceilings and open rooms. It was why he preferred the warehouse just on the outskirts of City Main. It was in this warehouse he kept thirty-three cages of rats. Ever since his father gave him a black rat on his thirteenth birthday he’d had a fascination with rodents – rats especially. Next to humans rats were the most successful species on earth, but unlike humans they still operated on an instinctual level. That spoke volumes for them as far as Reggie Penn was concerned. He liked to watch them, observe their behaviour patterns and apply that to his human interactions. He guessed he was a scientist at heart. If his mother hadn’t wanted him to take his share of their namesake Auction House he could have been in a lab somewhere, but there he was helping his brothers keep things running smoothly. Observing the rats he noted there was nothing they wouldn’t do for a little gratification. If you pierced them with electrodes that stimulated an orgasm every time they pushed a button they would keep pressing on that button, forgetting all else until they died of thirst or starvation. Their young followed soon after. In that sense the rats weren’t unlike humans Reggie decided. We too are always chasing gratification, whether it’s from a partner, alcohol, drugs or sugar. We always chase that feel-good.

Reggie also observed that no matter what he did to the rats they would always see him as master. He could burn their tails, make them watch as he cut off the heads of their young, it didn’t matter because the minute he brought them a food pellet he was a God to them. Humans could be trained in the same way. It just took a bit more time. He even tried it with his brother. One night he climbed into bed with Simon and tried to masturbate him. Simon beat him bloody for his troubles, resulting in a hospital trip and their mother being very upset. Not every experiment was a success he supposed. For Reggie power over something was the gratification that he was chasing. Being an all-giving leader pleased him and he would push that button all day. It wasn’t easy being a triplet – especially the youngest. You were always seen as being only one third of a whole person. It didn’t matter that Marcus was in charge and Simon was the tough one because when he returned to his rat cages at the warehouse he could still be a God. He put a cigarette between his lips and drew his phone from his pocket. It seemed like an appropriate time to update his social media pages. He couldn’t tell his followers about Cathie – although in Reggie’s mind it was probably the thing they would love to hear about, something hilarious that they would all get a kick out of. But he would play nice. He had already had to set up several new profiles because his previous ones had been shut down due to ‘violation of the rules.’

He was scrolling through pictures of scantily clad young women pressing LIKE (a lot like an orgasm button he supposed) when the phone started to ring. The caller I.D was one of their agents, Jeremy.

Reggie answered. “Yeah?” he enquired.

The agent sounded a little flustered. It wasn’t unlike Jeremy to be uptight but he seemed more so than usual.

“The Boss Lady has been taken in,” he said. “A friend at CPD just told me. They’ve got Simon too”

At first Reggie was unsure he had heard correctly. “What did you say?” The noise of the City Main traffic seemed to drown out the agent’s voice.

“They’ll be coming for you and Marcus. The Boss Lady has been taken in. I’m at CPD now. Simon was taken too.”

The agent’s voice dipped away as he talked to someone. The harsh accent from the part of town west of Coldford suggested it was PADDY MACK of MACK AND SONS. They were both angry.

“The Boss Lady has been taken in. Let Marcus know. He isn’t answering his phone.” At that the agent rang off.

Just as Reggie prepared to head back inside and warn his brother a fleet of CPD cars pulled up. Led by Kim Adams. Before Reggie could move Kim was on him.

“I’m already having one hell of a day so are you going to test me?”

Reggie grinned and reached his arms up.

“You’re making a mistake,” he warned.

“Yeah, your brother said the same thing.” The CPD officers closed in.

Reggie Penn was taken into custody.

Marcus growled at the noise of the commotion. He sensed what had happened but it was too late to retreat. He hated the idea of being forced into retreat anyway. If they had managed to bring Tabitha in, the Penn dynasty was in immediate danger. Like a house of cards, the pillars of The Shady City were beginning to fall. Kim appeared at the door.

“It’s over,” she said.

“For now,” was Marcus’ cold reply. He came surprisingly quietly.

***

It could have been his imagination but Dennis could already feel himself becoming sick. Was that really the case or was his mind playing tricks on him? He couldn’t know for certain but he certainly felt weaker than he was before. Sure, the Penns hadn’t gone easy on him and Cathie had left him bloody but the disease, the virus was already raging around his body. If it was a placebo effect it was damn good one. Before Dennis had met Tabitha he had always been the man in charge, the go-to guy. She had stripped him of every bit of effervescence he had until he was a shadow of his former self. Was it a fitting punishment for the harm he had caused to little girls or the result of a mad woman’s psychopathic tendencies? It wasn’t my job to judge or to weigh up justice. Tabitha was behind bars and likely would be for a long time. Nothing was going to delete what Dennis had done to those little girls or his turning simpleminded, desperate girls like Chloe to prostitution. What mattered then was how he was going to use what time was left for him.

Trapped in the Auction House he had limited options but a guy like Dennis was never held back completely. He could at least make strides to protect himself.

“Chloe?” he called.

She had never left his side. The Penns weren’t exactly stopping her leaving but it wouldn’t be likely she could walk out of the Auction House so easily. She chose to wait with him. Wait for inevitable death? In the end maybe she would climb into the coffin beside him. It may be difficult to understand but she truly believed she couldn’t live without him.

“You have to go,” he said.

“No!” she squealed. She had been waiting on him asking this of her but it was the one thing she wouldn’t give. “I’m not leaving you.”

“You have to. I need you to find me a doctor. If you ask Marcus, he will allow it. Please. I need you to fetch me a man named DR WINSLOW.” Chloe blinked the tears away that were forming in her eyes. “Marcus will let him come here. He’s the only one who can help me. He’s the only one who stands a chance of helping me live long enough to see an end to all of this.”

“I’ll find the doctor,” cheered Chloe. “I’ll find him and he will make you feel better. I promise. I’ll give Marcus whatever he wants and Reggie too if you like.”

Dennis managed a smile. He shifted on the wooden panelled floor and winced in pain.

“Good. I need you to ask Marcus very nicely to bring me Dr Winslow. Can you do that?” Chloe nodded simply. She looked a little confused and upset still so he needed more confirmation. “Repeat it back to me, kid.”

“I ask for Dr Winslow. I ask Marcus really, really nicely.”

Dennis managed a smile again. She was so glad she could cheer him up.

Speaking more to himself he said, “She thinks she’s got the last laugh. I’m going to fuck her up. If I’m going down, I’m going to make her sorry she ever crossed my path.”

Chloe blinked, perplexed. The bitterness in his voice wasn’t like him. He was normally so calm even under dire circumstances.

The point was moot anyway because CPD had already landed on the Auction House. Marcus was under arrest and as the officers burst into the room where Dennis was being held he and Chloe were separated. It seemed Dennis’ day of beating and questioning was far from over. As manager of the Knock Knock club and willing to talk against his Headliner masters, Dennis was an incredible asset for the Law Makers as the trial was set. Chloe looked up to Kim’s strong and protective face. It reminded her of a lioness she had seen at City Zoo when Dennis took her once to meet a client. The lioness had put herself in front of the cubs and watched the alpha male closely. The alpha male was intimidated. It wouldn’t approach the cubs whilst the lioness was around.

“Are you hurt pet?” she asked softly.

Chloe managed a smile despite herself. “I’m fine.”

Kim reached her hand out and clasped Chloe’s. “I’m going to need you to come with me. It’s going to be okay.” She spoke into her comm device. “I need some women officers in here.”

Thanks to Lydia’s international agency team, Chloe was taken to the safety of CPD.

Well that was a wild ride!

The themes in this episode were dramatised in order to push plot. For accurate and up to date advice on AIDs and HIV visit National Aids Trust at http://www.nat.org.uk

Next week we’re off the office of Law Makers. It’s time to put the Boss Lady and her support away for good.

In the meantime: Here’s the story so far:

Free to read HERE on Vivika Widow Online or you can download for kindle by clicking HERE.

KNOCK, KNOCK: Episode 1: Welcome to the Club

Knock, Knock: Episode 2: Don’t Come Knockin’

Knock, Knock: Episode 3: Sleep Tight Sam

Knock, Knock: Episode 4: Take A Bow

Knock, Knock: Episode 5: A Room With A View

Knock, Knock: Episode 6: Picking Up Strange Women

Knock, Knock: Episode 7: No Kids Allowed

Knock, Knock: Episode 8: Kids These Days

Knock, Knock: Episode 9: Shootin’ The Breeze

Knock, Knock: Episode 10: Calling Last Orders

Knock Knock: Episode 11: Shady City Blues

Knock Knock: Episode 12: Going Down

We're off to the Auction House to catch up with our old pal Dennis. Even from behind bars the Boss Lady knows how to settle old scores. “I love you Dennis.” CHLOE wept. “I love you more than anything. I really do.” “Shut up,” …

#blog read #dennis platt #graphic novel #horror #knock knock club #Knock #leo st paul #Penn auction house #Penn triplets #thriller #vivika widow

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vivikawidow · 6 years ago

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Lot 415: The Penn Auction House

Hold onto your boards folks. Bidding is about to begin.

Location: PENN Auction House, City Main

Features in: KNOCK KNOCK; MUSE

Led by the triplet sons of Reginald Penn – MARCUS, SIMON and REGGIE – the Auction House is the ruling power of City Main. The Penn family holds high esteem across the city. The triplets carry on their father’s legacy of violence and respect. Marcus – the eldest by a few minutes – acting as crown prince of the dynasty.

Despite…

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#author #graphic novel #horror #Knock #leo st paul #shady city thrillers #the knock knock club #thriller #thriller books #vivika widow

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vivikawidow · 6 years ago

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The chill wind the night was bringing whistled. It could have been the adrenaline of the chase finally wearing off but Agent LYDIA LOWE could have sworn the heat wave that had been swarming over the city was finally breaking.

“You swore loyalty to me you rat faced bitch!” Tabitha hissed at her as she was led up the steps of the Coldford Police Department with a firm grip. The same steps I had descended with the Boss Lady just the previous day after my wife, Theresa, had been murdered. Lydia didn’t respond to the vexation the way I assume Tabitha had hoped she would.

The agent remained calm.

“I never swore anything to you,” she replied, pushing her prisoner on, still with a firm grip around her arm. Tabitha of course protested.

“Anyone who flashes their tits on my stage, loyalty is a given.”

CPD had cleared of the busyness of the day staff. There were still a few low lights and some detectives working at their desks on cases requiring long hours.

Lydia led Tabitha to the office of DETECTIVE HICKES. “You are going to regret this,” Tabitha was still saying. “I have a lot of sway in this city.” “Oh, you’re something alright,” agreed the agent distractedly, looking for Hickes. “You bet your ass I am. Before I’m done you are going to wish you had stayed in your fucking northern hole.” Lydia – still eagerly awaiting Hickes – replied, “What are you going to do? Pull my hair? Push me in the mud?” Tabitha scoffed. “God! What a fucking tramp!” she exclaimed to herself. She turned then and looked behind her. “Oh, hi Hickesy,” she said with a grin.

Detective Hickes had arrived in a fluster. He ignored Tabitha and spoke directly to the agent. “Reynolds has been taken to General. I had to sort out the others.” By the ‘others’ he meant Simon Penn, Paddy Mack of the Mack and Sons brewery as well as some of the other Macks that had given them trouble when they raided the Knock Knock club. “I have holding ready for her,” he explained while brandishing a set of keys. Further into the belly of CPD, Tabitha was shown to what would be her residence for the foreseeable future. “I want to call my lawyer,” Tabitha stated, taking a seat on the bed. “This is barbaric. I haven’t even been processed properly.” Hickes finally acknowledged her. “You are being processed right now,” he told her. To Lydia he said, “I’ll send the paperwork over to Judge Doyle within the hour.” “I need to call my lawyer,”Tabitha piped up again. Hickes became frustrated. “You are a category A prisoner. In the city of Coldford that means we can hold you for at least 48 hours without giving you jack shit. More than that, if you don’t sit on your ass and stop running your mouth. It’s over Tabitha. Stay quiet and don’t make it any more difficult on yourself than it needs to be.” Tabitha leaned back on her elbows. “A take-charge man? When did you grow such big balls?” “Will she be secure enough in here?” Lydia put to Hickes. “She will. I’ll have someone on the door twenty-four hours. Havitz can take the first shift. As soon as she’s tried she will be moved to the Monte Fort.” Tabitha sat back up again at the mention of the infamous women’s correctional facility. “You sound so sure of yourself. Those big balls of yours must be ready for bursting.” Both the detective and the agent turned to her.

“It’s over Tabitha,” Lydia reminded her again. “The game is over.”

Tabitha rolled her eyes. “Then before you go and break out the parade you may want to take a look in the KNOCK KNOCK holding and help out your little reporter pal.” “SAM?” Lydia looked to Hickes. “He left with that little girl.” “Wrrrrrong!” Tabitha sang. “He tried to leave and made a pretty shitty job of it, too.” “They were just going to open up the hold when I left,” said Hickes. Lydia shook her head. “I better get back over there.” Hickes followed Lydia out. Securely locking the door behind them. Two CPD officers stood on the door with guns ready. “No one caring about little Sarah then? Just me? Mother fuckers!” Tabitha could be heard calling as she was locked in. Tabitha took a look at her surroundings. As someone who had been running amok in the Shady City for so long there was little satisfaction in having her in custody. Perhaps it was because they knew she was dangerous until behind Monte Fort bars. Most people would be beginning to question some of the choices they had made. However, even then, even at that late stage, Tabitha assumed the fight was far from over. It was just that the battlefield was changing. The evidence against her was set.

***

I had heard the commotion spilling in from outside. I had heard gunshots but there was nothing I could do. I assumed someone would come soon but time passed and I began to think Tabitha had fought off whatever attack had come. Still there was no word. Still dressed only in my underwear, I looked again at MADELINE’S lifeless body. I shivered. It was an internal shiver that reached into the core of my body. In the past twenty-four hours I had lost so much pursuing a story on the KNOCK KNOCK club. If I had known then what was still to come, I don’t think I would have been able to go on but, as I said, the story had to be told. Finally there was an explosion at the door. Tabitha had refused to give up the keys to be difficult and her minions weren’t cooperating either. “Why the fuck should I make it easier for any of them?” she had asked. “They brutalised my staff, wrecked my club and they want me to play nice?” Things couldn’t get any worse for her. Why should she make it easier for anyone else? LYDIA was the first to enter. My mind was still a little hazy from SIMON PENN’S knock out. I was still a little punched drunk, probably concussed too. “She attacked me,” was all I could say. “Madeline was going to kill me.” Lydia took a look at Madeline and had already deduced the story. She pulled me to my feet. “You’ll be alright, Sam,” she said. Her northern BOURNTON accent was warming. Her soft, naturally cheery voice reminded me that I wasn’t alone. Perhaps it was that that gave me the fight to go on. “Tabitha is in custody,” she said and, whilst those should have been the sweetest words to my ears at that point after everything she had done to me, I couldn’t help but feel unsettled. Crossing through the club was like crossing a field in the aftermath of a battle. Chairs were overturned, blood soaked the floors, and men and women beaten into submission cowered in the corners with guns pointed at them. “They came for Tabitha?” I asked of Lydia. Lydia knew where my thinking was leading. “She has a lot of tricks up her sleeve. CPD couldn’t be too careful.” I took note of the club members who were surrendering. Were they innocent? Perhaps not but was it really for the guns of CPD to decide that? They came for Tabitha. They had her. So why were CPD still holding club members?

***

“You could make this easier on yourself,” said Hickes. “Just confess.” Tabitha folded her arms across her chest and sat back on her bench. “Why don’t you tell me what I’m confessing to?” Hickes groaned with impatience. He stood and leaned on the table. “You know what you’re in for,” he said. Tabitha shrugged. “Driving too fast?” Hickes clenched fists. “Damnit Tabitha, make it easier on yourself!” Tabitha laughed. “Look at you all in a rage. The little vein in your head is popping out and everything.” “They’ve been after you for years. They are looking for any excuse,” Hickes reminded her. Now that they have you they will make an example of you.” Tabitha fell silent for a few moments. “I notice you said they and not we. Whose side are you on?” “I’m on the side that doesn’t want to see this city torn apart,” he replied with a sigh. “It’s a pity,” she said, lifting her hand to inspect her fingernails. “What is?” enquired the detective. “What will happen to everyone my club protects. My AUNT TEE used that club to give shelter, food and support to so many. People like your sister for instance and your adorable little nephews. “Eunice was grateful,” Hickes said.

Tabitha puckered her lips. “My HEADLINERS were only too happy to help. I even made sure Stanley paid dearly for what he did to her without you having to get your little detective hands dirty. When you think about it, I’m kinda like a super hero.” Hickes shook himself off. “Let’s not lose track here. You are no hero. Stanley beat Eunice and those kids but what you did to him? No one should… “ Tabitha gave a laugh. “Yeah, it was quite creative, wasn’t it?” “What about the innocent people that died when a floor of the Weir Hotel was blown?” Tabitha shook her head. “If they were staying at the WEIR, trust me they weren’t innocent.” Hickes growled. “You don’t get to make that judgement.” “No? Then who does? Judge fucking cyclops?” Tabitha returned with venom, her reference meaning Judge Doyle of the Law Makers. The very one who had authorised her arrest.

“Helping some people out doesn’t give you the right to murder, steal or destroy this city.” Tabitha didn’t reply at first. Hickes thought he was beginning to get through to her. “I need to speak to someone,” she said. Hickes shook his head. “I told you, no calls.” Tabitha leaned forward. Her expression softened. The bravado still lingered but it was lower than before. “For the sake of Eunice and those kids.” Hickes’ nostrils flared but he too softened. “Who do you need to speak to?” “I need to see my Aunt Agnes.” AGNES WILDE was partner to Tabitha’s Aunt Tawny. They opened the club together and treated the Boss Lady like a daughter. Agnes was still on the board of the club, better known as the Broker. “I can’t…” “Just five minutes…” she hesitated. “Please.”

Enjoy this?

Next week we’re off to the PENN AUCTION HOUSE to catch up with our old pal and former club manager Dennis.

In the meantime: Here’s the story so far:

Free to read HERE on Vivika Widow Online or you can download for kindle by clicking HERE.

KNOCK, KNOCK: Episode 1: Welcome to the Club

Knock, Knock: Episode 2: Don’t Come Knockin’

Knock, Knock: Episode 3: Sleep Tight Sam

Knock, Knock: Episode 4: Take A Bow

Knock, Knock: Episode 5: A Room With A View

Knock, Knock: Episode 6: Picking Up Strange Women

Knock, Knock: Episode 7: No Kids Allowed

Knock, Knock: Episode 8: Kids These Days

Knock, Knock: Episode 9: Shootin’ The Breeze

Knock, Knock: Episode 10: Calling Last Orders

Knock Knock: Episode 11: Shady City Blues

With the Boss Lady of the Knock Knock Club in custody, what are the next steps for Shady City's finest? The chill wind the night was bringing whistled. It could have been the adrenaline of the chase finally wearing off but Agent…

#blog read #crime fiction #graphic novel #horror #Knock #noir #thriller #vivika widow

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