Without Remorse Ch. 10byshandal©
This is a crime thriller, and like all good crime thrillers the ending isn't always as we want it to be. I love writing about characters, and I hope you have enjoyed reading about them.
Definition of a Sociopath – someone unconcerned about the adverse consequences for others of one's actions and with a total lack of moral compass.
The crowds stood around watching as the ambulances were loaded with the wounded and injured, and the police swarmed around the roped off area as the two white vehicles drove off, their sirens blearing into the noisy sounds of the London traffic. There was a collective gasp as Mike was lead out in handcuffs and placed in a Police car parked close to the entrance of the arch, and then watched as the car drove away, making its way through the gawping crowds.
Next led out in handcuffs was Archie, looking angry and red faced, and another police car pulled up, the back door opened and he was hustled quickly inside. As he bent to go into the interior of the car he banged his head, a final insult to his dignity.
David Noble walked up his garden path, having just left his mistress Julia, who lived just around the corner, and with whom he had spent the last couple of hours screwing in bed. Lifting up his key and placing it in the lock he tried to turn it, but finding it not moving rang the bell thinking that his wife must have put the lock on by mistake.
After a few minutes the window next to him opened and her head poked out, "You're home then."
"Yes, sorry a bit late, I went for a couple of drinks with a client and the time just got carried away from me."
"I don't suppose the client was a woman, about five two, blond and well stacked?"
"What do you mean?"
Her head disappeared for a moment and then David watched as his golf clubs in his expensive golf bag came through the window, open top first so that his new set of clubs fell out hitting the ground before the bag followed.
"You know the one, that client, the one that lives round the corner in the big house with the Weeping Willow and pond in the front garden." she continued to taunt.
David felt his blood drain from his face, "I can explain......"
"Really?" and her head disappeared again just before a pile of his clothes were thrown through the open window. Reappearing she continued, "...and was the pub set up in her bedroom?"
"Let me in babe and let me explain."
His DVD collection started flying through the window, a couple of the plastic cases holding the round disks just missing his face as he stepped forward onto the grass in front of the open window.
"Wait calm down. Let's talk about this. Please babe."
"Don't fucking babe me you bastard." and some more of his clothes came flying through the window.
"But if you'll just let me in....open the door."
The window slammed in his face as he heard her scream, "I'VE CHANGED THE FUCKING LOCK, GO BACK TO THE OWNER OF THE CUNT YOU'VE BEEN FUCKING FOR THE PAST COUPLE OF HOURS."
Standing in front of the house amongst the mess of his belongings laying forlornly in his front garden, David Noble started to realise the mess he had made of yet again another marriage.
If only he could learn to keep his cock zipped up he wouldn't have to keep paying out on stupid divorce settlements.
But some people never learn.
Mike sat in the interview room refusing to say anything. He considered the two people in front of him that were asking him questions to be beneath him, and the solicitor that sat next to him was in his view less than an insect in intellect. Smiling at the two cops he interrupted them in mid question and said, "She was a good fuck, your Detective Wright, eager for me to stick it in her. Ask her where she spent last night.... In my bed being fucked.... Fucked by a suspect in a serial rapist case.' Smiling evilly he continued, "Fucked out of her brains and enjoying every minute." and sitting back satisfied, he stared at the two detectives.
The final act of a sociopath, getting enjoyment out of the fact that he had now ruined the career of Kelly Wright by dropping that little bit of information into the official interrogation.
Let her suffer, he though, but in a different way.
Archie sat in a different interview room, also not saying a word. He knew he was safer not talking than saying anything about Micky McShaunassy. If he sung in anyway he would be walking dead, the bastard would make sure of it, even in any prison they might put him in. Better to keep quiet.
Besides the quicker had could get out of this damn town, even if it was for him to be placed in some prison cell, the better.
He hated London. Hated everything about it, from its overzealous traffic wardens, stupid clamp units, expensive crowded streets on down.
Ben sat with Kelly, who's arm was now just like Janice's, in a cast. They sat outside the young girl's hospital room waiting to hear from the doctors how bad she was, the fever wracking her body caused by the infection from living the last couple of days in unclean circumstances having infected her wounds from the rape.
His arm around Kelly's shoulders he felt her body move as she sobbed into his neck, his heart breaking for the terrible circumstance that had unfolded earlier today and the fallout that effected them all.
Looking up he saw the Chief Inspector standing in front of him with another male Detective from the team, and one woman officer in uniform.
"You ready Ben?"
Nodding and dreading what was about to happen, but knowing he had to be there when it happened he stood up as the Detective took his place.
"As ready as I'll ever be."
Jakes wife heard the doorbell ring just as she was changing the nappy on the baby. Hoisting him into her arms she walked up the small hallway and opened the door to find Ben, Jakes boss and a woman policewoman standing on the doorstep.
Their faces were ashen white, and she knew in that second what they were there for.
Shaking her head she uttered without realising it, "No....please God no....not my Jake."
Ben stepped forward, the look of compassion on his face, "I'm so sorry......"
But she never heard the end of the sentence as she dropped into a dead faint, Ben just catching the baby as she went down.
Killed by the single bullet to the heart, Jake Conway had died in the course of his duty, at thirty four, a good husband, a loving father, an excellent detective.
And a good friend.
The commuter put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a few coins, placing it in the palm of the young girl with the dirty greasy straight black hair that he saw every day begging outside of the station. The snow was starting to fall, swirling around them and making his nose cold, even though he was wrapped up in a thick overcoat and scarf.
Walking up the road he looked back at the girl, wondering how in hell she survived outside in the cold, especially at night before he looked forward and started the short walk to the heated office where he worked, the girl forgotten.
Hanny begged for a couple of more minutes before making her way to the small convenience store and buying a can of strong lager, then made her way back to the archway recess, where she sat down, pulling the blanket the Salvation Army had given her a couple of nights ago around her thin shoulders. Her friend with the bald head and tattoos sat down next to her "Got some there for me?" and she passed over the can, letting the small buzz anesthetise her from her half of the can.
Truly one of the lost souls of London.