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The Dark Web Part 1: Shadows Morbed curiosity, although it has no formal definition, has always been a hot topic, with, an over barring itch begging to be scratched, modern advances in technology have allowed people from all walks of life to delve, into the fountain of foreboding knowledge with simply one click of a button, with this comes a price, one has the dan- ger of becomes trapped in a macabre world on the dark side of deviance a motivation driven by a desire to understand serial killers, this term, or a crude popular culture phrase that has been laminated in time, like a foot- print in wet concrete. The biomechanics of what makes such a person evil or act in a nefarious way has variable moods often without answers. I fear that If, we over self-indulge “by glorifying the acts of violence we may achieve the paradoxical effect of making them trivial\" impeding the chance to eradicate all that threatens humanity. Maybe humans no matter how old, move to a life of crime, due to upbring- ing, opportunistic reasons, forced, blackmailed, fear, or quite simply is it imprinted deep inside Dna. It is so true that the term Serial killer, is so ambiguous, in some ways, that a change in its definition may be more appropriate, then again the word murder is so broad and skates on thin ice when separating lawful and un- lawful killings. ‘Could, there be such a thing as a good killer?’ Only time will tell. The ability to become non-subjective outside my comfort zone, was diffi- cult due to stereotyping, misinformation, simply knowing right from wrong, wouldn’t cut the mustard. An open mind, forgetting what we already know, would be the key to unlocking, the secret world of these insidious, beasts, evil personified. That’s why a cyber and intelligence unit was created lead by, DI Jack Lock- stock the metaphor that is `Cerberus, ` making sure, that once evil is cap- tured and sent to hades, they will never return to earth, sometimes in our darkest despair, someone would turn on the light it is now inconceivable to think that my saviour would be sent in the form of a binary and algorithms an illegal double agent, watching and protecting from the deepest darkest shadows of the world wide web. 1

The Dark Web 2

Chapter 1: Reminiscence bump. “Intelligence is the ability to adapt to change.” Stephen Hawkins… I think, an introduction is in order, D.I Jack Lockstock at your service, nice to meet you. My friends and colleagues for some reason call me `omniscient, ` don’t worry, looking up the word definition was a bind too; ` the truth is that’s not me, a wise man never claims to know everything, which is more like me, a more accurate descriptive would be one who will. A nickname that has recently been bestowed upon me, is Shadow hunter, now that title fits like a glove. Born in 1975 in the UK, Wirral to be exact. One blink and then time warp, getting to grow up in the most awesome era of all time, the eighties, yes people! the big hair, bright colours, the movies, music, burning legs on a PVC couch in the summertime; Technology was just a foetus, and Bob Ross was the Uncle you always wanted. Initially, there were no hidden aspirations to be a police officer, you see my Dad was Sargent Thomas Lockstock. He was, the stereotypical bobby (Po- lice officer) tall, with a 70s moustache that was so distinguished, let’s just say it was immaculate, ‘(Behold Simon the moustache), no kidding that was its name.’ Thomas carried himself with such a presence, that meant busi- ness. To be honest, my dad was, shall we say… was very obsessed, never off duty, ‘the reasons for this will become more apparent later, they do say, ‘all good things come to those who wait.’ To be honest, it did have an im- pact on our family, but we did what we Lockstock’s do best, adapt. Being an only child sucked, to be honest, there were times of loneliness, “aww can you hear ``the world’s`` smallest violin playing, `` ``saddest song? My parents would joke and say, ‘more children would have been easier ha,’ 3

you may see my halo but It was hard work for them dealing with a smart arse, cocky, answer for everything son. I’d always imagined having brothers and sisters well C'est le vie “there you go, see, a ‘French lesson,’ you are welcome.” My mum is a retired nurse but never stops looking after people, especially me, ha. “Don’t say it! ‘He’s a mummy’s boy,’ even though that’s what you are all thinking? ‘Well that’s your opinion.” ‘Liz Lockstock,’ my mum, was only small but man she was tough. Even though my mum and dad worked so hard, they still tried to provide time for me, so growing up was pretty cool. Mum and Dad were old school in some ways dressed conservatively like, but embraced modern times pretty well, teaching me valuable ethics and skills, like equality and that its cool to be different, always stand up for what you believe in, oh and the ability to have permission to kick someone’s arse to protect them from be- ing bullied, from there on learning about empathy, and plausible deniability. Oak Drive, Wallasey, an old police cottage, would be where my parents and I lived, the beloved memories of that cottage, delicately etched in my mind. The cul de sac was a quiet, such a friendly neighbourhood, the chores to earn pocket money, like mow lawns, wash cars, and run errands for the old folks, it was around the age of eleven, my eyes were hypnotised by a Gibson guitar that was taunting me to buy, it was expensive though. “Have a strong work ethic, something along those lines, you work for it; you appreciate it he would say.” Yes, he busted my chops, but that was old school something to respect, they did go half on my cool levis. Well, funny story, they bought these cool levis with the rips in the knees, man I was so made up, then this is what happened, “Mum where are my new jeans, please? See manors are free, ‘mum then replies.’ “They are on your bed; I have ironed them.” ‘Not bad, it gets oh it gets better.’ 4

“Jack, I have sewn patches to cover up those unsightly rips”. ‘Good old days ha.’ “Thanks, mum with a sarcastic tone under my breath, coupled with god mum you wouldn’t know fashion if it bites you in the arse.” “What did you say, Jack.” “Nothing mum.” “Hey, ‘I’m not ‘crazy my parents had me tested,” rule no`1 don’t pee off the old folks, mum did however apologetically take the patches off, I never could work out how they could hear you so well and not to mention the boomerang slipper, my mum would be in the kitchen id’ make some smart arse comment then without warning, trust me no Bruce Lee skills could deter what was about to happen, `WHACK! ` Slipper to the head, then no slipper id be on my back break dancing like a stunned beetle, some type of ninja skills.” School days were ok, ‘mmm, a gifted IQ student you say,’ you have got to admit that was a pretty good Yoda impression. “Nah ‘intelligence should be measured by one’s ability to solve problems;” ‘that’s a fact, look it up,’ so to do well you need to work hard, don’t get me wrong there were times in the headmaster’s office and near concussion from chalkboard rubbers being thrown at me. Like most people, some subjects you excel at others simply require hard work a formula for the ‘theory of everything.’ For one who is perceived as being weird for loving the Autumn & Winter, there is a reason for going off on a tangent, this diversion in the narrative was purposeful; Bing insightful helps me to have a better perspective for coping, the subconscious mind never rests, right now that’s out of the way. However, growing to love the summer, especially six weeks’ holidays’, the unexpected gift, that gave me memories, those long days, and weeks off school, my best buddy Jonny and I, would pack jam butties, (sandwiches for your posh people) drinks, fishing rods’ and just bike it, time seemed to stop, not a care in the world not even scared, because we knew parents had eyes everywhere. 5

10th of August 1987, as I recall, it was a warm day, my bedroom window was open, the light breeze trying to read my comics and the sky was painted in a majestic blue with candy floss clouds, it felt like a great day to embark on an adventure, ‘Back to the future,’ waiting is boring, anxiously watching my Casio clock my` heals tapping to the sound of the tick-tock didn’t help. “It hit 10:00 am; jumping down from my bed with a Jurassic `thud,’ that shuck the house, proceeding to aquaplane down the stairs like the ‘Flash,’ hyped up on sugar.” “Right I’m off mum.” “Have you had breakfast, Jack?” Mum, was insistent. “Yes, Ages ago, do you not know me? ‘I never miss a cereal opportunity,’ grinning to myself?” “See you later, have fun?” “Will do, love you.” Shutting the front door with haste, to avoid more questions. Armed with food, a metal detector and a bike, ready to set off to meet Jonny at his front gate, we usually went to West Kirby beach or fort shore to find coins, it just so happened that we ended up at the shore in a place called Moreton, what started as a typical adventure turned into something haunting. The beach was eerily quiet which was weird, with only a few dog walkers. Jonny and I headed down to the lighthouse by perch rock, my metal detector beeping like crazy, the Irish sea was calm, just a few yards away I noticed a strange plastic sheet with seagulls all over it, the sun re- flecting so bright it made my eyes water. Taking a breath and walked over, the breeze made the hairs on the back of the neck stand up, the plastic tarp was blue obviously covering something, curiosity was getting the better of me. “Do I? ‘my heart was racing,’ Or don’t I?” 6

“Stupid me it’s probably junk, I grabbed a corner, the smell was like being trapped in a tent when someone farts, my heart is racing I pulled back the tarp.” “Oh, SHIT- SHIT- SHIT! `JONNY` I screamed.” “What is it, Jack?” “Man you’ve got to see this,” my breakfast nearly came up; we were both ‘Freaking Out.’ “That’s gross! We both said it at the same time” Jonny beat me to the jinx, and he gave me a dead arm, those are the rules. we were 11, we shouldn’t see what I'm about to describe to you, it is chilling, the body was a woman, don’t know what age, body cut from throat to navel, pail, blood under fingernails, words carved into her skin. ” Jonny where is the head?” “On the neck, dummy.” “Very funny, the ladies` head.” The most disturbing thing was, that a bin bag was tied around her body, I did it ripped open the bag, man that was a mistake, that’s gruesome, she looked like the American werewolf had attacked her, the head was in the bag, I started to shake, I threw up. “Right Jack, think what would dad do?”. I remember I need to secure the crime scene, “Jonny” “WHAT!” “Alright moody arse, you go ring the police and I will make sure no one touches the body”. This poor lady! 7

I covered her back up, just you know for respect “Who could have done this?” I've seen my dad looking stressed lately and I did overhear a term he uses SERIAL KILLER! Scary, I thought they meant me on account of how many boxes of cereals I go through I do love honey puffs. “Where is Jonny?” “Hey! Jack, I’m here,” said Jonny, “ “The police asked me to wait at the phone box and direct them, sorry man”. “Cheers Jonny we good,” cool. This was becoming a little surreal like I’m in a dream state, I recognised the car model, a Rover SD1 Police Car, it's fast enough to keep up with jags, it pulled up closer and the officer got out of the car, Jonny and I over- heard the police officer on his car radio between feedback crackle saying: “Serra Oscar this is DCI Steve Sherwood we have found the missing young lady, deceased, over”. “DCI Sherwood any further assistance? over” “Serra Oscar yes K9 and serious crimes over”. I think I have met DCI Sherwood before, he and my dad are pals, DCI Sherwood walked over to Jonny and me, more like strutted with confidence a 40 something years of age with a contradicting voice that was both calm but meant business, he reminded me of Commissioner Gordon from the Batman comics I read. Plain clothed, well a white shirt, a tie and a cool leather jacket, I always giggle to myself “what’s with the police and those moustaches.” “You ok boys? hell of a find, you two are heroes. I will speak to your dad and I will see you two down at the station”. As Jonny and I walked towards the police car, with pc Hendrix an officer assigned to take us back to the station. I could hear DCI Sherwood saying, 8

“Right cordon of the area, and get the K9 unit, and assigned officers to search the whole area. I want answers! lay this poor girl to rest, give solace to her family and let us catch this son of a bitch”. Pc Hendrix was a nice lady officer with a calming voice. Jonny was freaking out, then he just fell asleep. Pc Hendrix and I spoke about music, guitars, hair metal bands; That sort of thing. Then I asked a question, I think I overstepped the mark because her calm tone change not in a nasty way but as if she was uncomfortable I mentioned whether this was a `serial killer? ` She smiled a shaky smile and said. “We can’t be certain, and I can’t discuss that, anyway don’t worry Poppet, DCI Sherwood and your dad will catch them”. “Will there be hot chocolate at the station please”. I Said in a charming voice. “With marshmallows,” we both said together” IT’S THE LAW!” We arrived at the local police station in Upton, which was the most local station to Moreton. “Hi Sarge just booking in these two heroes to give witness statements” I notice on the desk sergeants name tag Sargent M.R.T I couldn’t help it I had to do it. “Sir I’m Jack Lockstock and my sleepy head buddy is Jonny Williams, I couldn’t help but notice your name it’s Mr T”. Like the program “I ain't getting on no damn plane fool”. “That`s alright by me son”. Everyone in the station chuckled. They say technology has made a massive quantum leap but I don’t see it myself, but come to think of it, technology is all around us, we just don’t perceive it as modern tech, thus we take it for granted. I was happy I had my hot chocolate with marshmallows sanctioned by law. I was taken into a soft interview room, comfy chairs, blankets the works. I 9

was sat there for about 10 minutes then Pc Hendrix, my dad and DCI Sher- wood entered. “For the tape Witness interview Jack Lockstock, time noon. I am PC Si- obhan Hendrix. also present in the room is DCI Steve Sherwood and Jack Lockstock’s dad Sargent Thomas Lockstock. Right, Jack let’s start from the beginning, what time did you and Jonny get to the shore?” Jack: “Around 11:20 we started metal detecting, then I noticed plastic sheeting by the old lighthouse by perch rock, I went to check there was something underneath it I know I shouldn’t of but I did I'm sorry.” PC Siobhan “No need for apologies, you are doing an amazing job, Jack, what happened then?” Jack “Can I have a tissue please? I'm sorry for crying”. Thomas Lockstock: “Never be sorry for crying or showing emotion, be- ing brave enough to show how you feel, that’s something to be proud of, I respect that, you will always be a fighter, Jack.” PC Siobhan Hendrix: “Sorry Jack you said you pulled back the tarp, I know this is hard but did you see anyone around the body?” Jack “No! just a few people walking dogs, I don’t think anyone knew the body was there, it might have been washed onto the shore from somewhere else.” I take a deep breath. “The body of the lady was naked, head removed, blood under her nails, head in a separate bag, she was cut from erm, sorry I can’t go on.” PC Siobhan Hendrix: “That fine Jack, you did an amazing job, Interview terminated at 12:50 pm.” “Dad will this be enough to catch this freak?” “It sure will put a big dent into the case, your written and recorded state- ments will help immensely,” Dad replies. “Are you sure you are not secretly training yourself to be the next big cop?” 10

“No sir I just want to be a rock star.” Jonny was taken home by his mum, Trudy Williams, he did look ill, “quite the adventure eh mate!” then Jonny and I, threw our hands up and shouted rock on, “You boys,” said Mrs Williams. In the car, dad and I didn’t say a word, he just smiled through the rear-view mirror and did what he knew would cheer me up, he had made me a mixtape of 80s rock, put it on and cranked the volume up, he never does that and we sang. And what turned out to be a day I will not forget, turned out to be a pretty cool con- nection with my dad. It had been about a year now since you know what, Jonny and I never spoke about that day, I was cool with that, on the other hand in my house it wasn’t easy to forget, because that insidious beast had rooted it’s self-inside our strong family, trying to consume all of our energy, dad set about an emer- gency family meeting it wasn’t good. “You ok dad?” “No, I'm not ok Jack, you know I love you and your mum.” “dad I’m scared now.” “Listen, the monster that killed that girl and many others, he knows the police are on to him I have received death threat letters for you, mum and me, Jack you know too much.” “Impossible! I don’t even know her name.” “You need to pack your stuff; do you remember your granddad's cabin in Lake mere?” “Yes.” “That’s where we are heading, you cannot and I repeat do not tell anyone and that’s an order.” “I will not, What about mum?” 11

“Your mum is staying with your Aunt Ruth and Cousin peter, in Liver- pool.” “Hold on I have a cousin; why didn’t you tell me?” “It’s a long story be patient; I will let you in at some point.” “Ok, dad!” “Good lad.” I was so pissed off at my dad, if he didn’t tell me, there has to be a good reason. Maybe when this shit is over I can meet Peter. “I wonder what he's like?” Grandad’s cabin was just how I remember it, WOW it’s not changed at all, my parents and I spent Christmas in this cabin not every year sadly, the snow, the trees, magical. I kind of wish it was December now. A great choice for a hideout, acoustics amazing “Echo- Echo- Echo” man I love it. “Wow, dad the old CB radio still works,” “I know son but the phone lines dead, lucky the chief allowed me to use a patrol car, so I could radio in if we need to, so with both we should be cool.” “Get you, dad, using young lingo.” The right first rule of camping, survival, first aid kit, check some flammable material to burn, idiot I’m in a Forrest; Tools to light and never forget, the lifesaver ready break, “Dad where are the matches or lighter.” “In the rucksack,” Dad and mum are so organised, I must learn to be too. What the fuck excuse my language but, a picture of Peter, notes from the deranged lunatic photos of my mum, our house, me and now I've got chills this is turning into Scooby-doo, no way! is my dad, old man Jenkins in a mask? As I said before he's never off duty even if we are part of the inves- tigation. “Don’t worry you’ve got this Maverick,” a gun, the notes are like 12

the ones you see in movies, words cut out of a newspaper what to do? Keep it in; “You got those lighters son?” “Yes, dad I am coming.” Upon lighting the fire, I finally felt a sense of calmness, each ember and drift of smoke, that represents all my bad emotions, simply vanished, like an illusion, but I know it’s only smoke and mirrors, the fire only wards of the wolf as long as it stays alight. Man cooking beans reminds me of Blazing Saddles the fart scene “Mongo likes beans” classic, there is nothing better than a cooked breakfast on an open fire, cup of hot cocoa. “Remember when we would stay up laughing, watching Open all hours? Go on do the impression dad.” “Ok, you twisted my arm, are you ready Jack? G-G-G-G Granville, g-g-g go, s-s-s stock the par-par-par, particulars.” I couldn’t breathe I almost wet myself the stutter was so in character, I've missed dad and me, goofing around, mum telling us to grow up! I think I've matured because of this in a good way, on the other hand, it's ageing my dad I wish superheroes were real, then all this would be dealt with. this is real life Jack, not a story you can invariably erase. “Right son bedtime, we have an early start tomorrow.” “What about the washing up you know what mum would say” “I know I know ok, wash up then shut-eye.” Every noise no matter how small made me jump, I washed the dishes as fast as I could, so I could get inside the cabin and lock the door, pull the covers over my head and id wake up somehow convincing myself it was an elaborate nightmare; the sandman’s mind manipulation tricks. The walls are closing in, I’m sweating, my heart racing. The flicker of the full moon’s light through the curtains was strangely comforting, the crack of twigs, rustling leaves the wind trying to seek shelter, asking for permission tapping on the door. My dad was asleep, I couldn’t take it anymore, I grabbed the gun from 13

the rucksack clumsily loading, there, the safety is on like dad taught me. I could finally breathe and I crashed, fell asleep, my body is in shut down mode. I know this cabin has memories good ones, maybe they could be my shield? Whilst I sleep the loved ones I've lost can be my guardian Angels. Day and night conquered, the morning was fresh and warm, a new start. “Good morning pop’s” “You haven’t called me that in a long time. Jack, you do know you can talk to me about anything; is there anything… you want to get off your chest?” “Dad I’m sorry I was scared, freaking out, shitting myself, I took the gun to make me feel safe,” Dad just gave a nod of reassurance, which worried me more, would I be grounded for the gun or shitting myself I mean lan- guage. “That’s fine son, we have got to play this situation like a chess game with precise execution, we have to be several moves ahead, we will not mention this situation, especially the swearing to mum.” “Phew, I dodged the bullet on that one, wrong choice of words”. Nine lives; eight to go. Today felt like, a bit of a curious day, like when you know when it's Sunday but it feels like a weekday. No… I’ve never woken up at the weekend pan- icked that it was Monday and proceeded to get ready for school. What crazy numb-nuts would do that? shut up Jack no you shut up, I crack myself up sometimes. The weather is equally misleading, it was calm, a slight breeze, blue skies that’s weird! rain. Well, they do say the UK is like Vivaldi, we can get four seasons in a day. “Hey, Jack!” My dad tapped me on the shoulder “How about a game of chess? Son, don’t pretend to let me win, this ain’t no pity party for old farts like me. There is a rule, Jack,” “And what’s that ‘Sargent dad’?” I replied in a sarcastic tone that I owned pretty well, which think dad chose to ignore. “Chill, dude lighten up bro.” dad said, 14

“Dad, don’t you ever do, or say that again, I will have you arrested by the old man trying to be hip police.” “Message received son.” Chess was ‘code word’ for, let's question Jack on girlfriend’s blah- blah- blah. Mum, did it too, her code words were, `Jack, do you want to help bake cakes? ` or as I called them type 2 diabetes bombs, they were so good though. “Setup the game dad, I’m just going for a pee, my teeth are floating;” “Jack!” “What? Granddad would always say it too, ok I will rephrase, `one is going to empty his bladder ok. ` Is that better?” Man, parents are so hard to please. I don’t recognise that chess set, the detail was amazing, hand-carved pieces with maple and rosewood inlay board. “where did the chess set come from dad?” “Well to cut a long story short. Your grandad, was a carpenter, back then times were tough, not much work on, so your grandad made this,’ and gave it to me for my twelfth birthday, so from then on I, realised that the fact that parents, no matter how tough times were never showed their stresses or life’s gut punches, I never felt pressured by that or made to feel like that was a Burdon I had to carry, yet still they managed to make a little boy smile. This was probably my best gift,” “why is that?” “The truth is son it came from the heart and I promised myself that’s how I would raise you. Your grandad would say “If a simple and honest life makes you happy, why complicate it by making things harder? If in the pursuit of happiness, you gain high success, then that’s great but always remain humble and grounded.” “That’s cool,” 15

“Is that you being sarcastic, somewhat dismissive Jack?” “No, I mean I can be cocky, but I’m not disrespectful.” “What I mean is that times must have been you know, ‘tough’! but you all stuck together that’s something to admire and be proud of. For instance, this cabin no shower no hot water, no tv but I’m cool with that, the way I see it we adapt”. “How did you become so wise beyond your years Jack? I know I don’t say it enough but I am proud of you.” “Right dad, time for this chess master, to whip your butt, are you Ebony or Ivory?” Time to toss the coin heads or tails? I somehow wish life was like that, you flip a coin and the bad things simply erase. Nah if life was easy, it would be boring and I wouldn’t be me. 16

The Dark Web Chapter 2: Lost Boy “Imagination is more important than knowledge.” Albert Einstein. It’s now, the 26th August 1988. Sorry just noticed a theme with August, probably just a prominent time of year for me memorable guess. ‘An- yhow,’ are you all biting your nails wondering how the Lockstock fam- ily are doing? Oh, you’re not, that’s ok! Charming it will be dealer’s choice then; Well, back at the cabin, information overload regarding my parents, ‘oh!’ And the elephant in the room, ‘Pete;’ ‘Wow, that was an eye-opener, to say the least,’ I’m not at liberty to talk about that yet, well, because I’m… still wrapping my head around the whole thing, because believe me, if you knew, what I know, you get the picture, mind-blowing, great news though, I get to meet him on my birthday, which is on the 14th of September. Yes, people, on my birthday this year, I will be a man teen, waking up like that movie BIG, a teen trapped in an adult body, or wouldn’t it be cool if I woke up, with a full beard and deep voice, I’d say “what’s up to mum”? ha a voice deeper than Barry White, she would freak, and spit her coffee out. Dad would be like “nice beard son,” and mum would be like. 17

“Oh- my- God, Oh-my-God in a high pitch mum voice. “Thomas, how do we reverse the spell from ‘Zoltan’ to turn Jack back to our little boy.” I glance into my mirror and say “Jack you’re such a nerd.” “Oh crap, I forgot about Jonny on the walkie Talkie!” Shhh, (beep), don’t judge, I don’t know what a walkie talkie noise goes like, clearly, I can’t spell it either, ah’ the joy of imagination. “Maverick this is Goose over,” “Sorry buddy.” Shhh “Goose this is Maverick (beep), over” “wow the whistling feedback was loud almost deafening.” Jonny: Sssh “Where did you go man? (Beep), Over.” Jack: Sssh “My mum needed me, (beep), Over.” Jonny: Sssh “You were playing out movies in the mirror again,” (beep), over. Jack: Sssh “no! and you do know, we don’t need to say ‘over’, every time!” Jonny: Sssh “I know…., and you were, but it’s all good because I inverted movies in front of a mirror,” Jonny: Sssh “got to go buddy speak later.” Jack: Sssh “Speak soon Goose.” It’s certainly has been an adjustment, getting back into the groove of things, because of you know, ‘MAN WANTING US DEAD THING!!’ Keep up people, oh, my bad sorry, I missed out on a big chunk of the movie; spoiler alert we survive. Just playing with you, we spent what seemed like weeks and weeks in that cabin, I had eaten way too many… beans my farts were scaring of wildlife, they recharged dad’s car battery, rumour through the grapevine was, that the residents of nearby villages, reported a gas leak, plus we ran out of cereal. I must express I’m not mental, I just use humour, sarcasm and a little dash of Bippady Boppady Boo, to deal with what I’ve been through, and seen. My councillor says it is normal and to be expected. Sorry, narration resumes now. It was my dad’s idea to head back, he said “Son we shouldn’t have to hide,” “great speech dad,” So we packed up our things and headed back home, as we pulled up to our house, it felt like the house didn’t miss us, 18

nothing had changed much except, what the hell someone had nicked my lawn mowing job. I could see people staring, twitching curtains but once the key was in the door, we’re home thank funky pigeons for that, I knew dad couldn’t wait to ring the station, can’t blame him, I picked up the mail junk letters for Bill, a cool new edition of the flash comic, sweet the holy- grail that is guitar shred, check out page 3, head out of the gutters people Gibson Les Paul it beamed with light and I thought to myself one day it will be mine and so will Elektra, just got to find a way to get, daredevil out of the picture. “Dad just going upstairs, to put my stuff away and read my magazines.” ‘Magazines ah’, “do you need privacy?” “good for you, son.” My dad grinned, n-o-o-o, guitar mags and comics, I blushed, anyway I’m waiting for new technologies; So I can build myself an Electra of my very own. “You do know son, that I love? ‘but sometimes I worry about you!” “I don’t say anything when you and ‘behold Simon,’ tickle mum at night and she pretends to be a criminal, drum roll this is mums voice. “Oh, arrest me, officer I’ve been a very bad lady,” then asks, the lord for forgiveness. Dad quickly changed that subject, 1 to Jack. “Well, anyway, sit down here, smart arse, I’ve got some news.” “Don’t tell me they have made bedding made out of cereal so I can sleep and eat my breakfast at the same time?” “No-No wait, have they put the number nine, closer on the telephone, so you won’t die trying to ring for an ambulance?” My dad’s words became sombre and very sobering, that was my cue, to stop joking around. “They hadn’t found the guy? Jack, the police are somewhat closer than evidence crumbles, he has, however, lost interest with us; sadly, he has ‘killed!’ more women. “Dad! how come nat- ural illnesses and diseases kill, good honest people but these crazy people are, fit and well, free to walk around and take lives, that’s not right.” “Good point Jack.” “Is it alright if I go upstairs listen to some music, while we wait for mum?” “Yes son, and Jack, things will get better, just don’t stop believing;” 19

“Right, which mixtape?” “I know,” kick serial murderers in the nuts, if they had any, vol:1 Awesome, a bit of ♫queen♫ Just as the sick guitar riff kicks in, my dad knocks, “It’s open dad.” “Your mums back, so turn that off; I don’t think that, (Tie your mother down), is an appropriate song choice son,” I snig- gered, guess not. “Alright, I will be right down.” Right, I have to brace myself, deep breath, I know what you are all thinking? That was a bit of a dick thing to say, Jack, the truth is I missed mum, but I know how this plays out, the hugging, crying flashbacks, you see I don’t deal with emotion very well, so I didn’t mean it to come across as heartless, it’s just how I cope. “Jack! Will you please get your man teen butt down here!” There was a sense of urgency and nervousness, in dads’ voice as he shouted I thought to myself, this can’t be good. I slowly made my way downstairs, seeing if I could live vicariously like a secret agent, avoiding the creaky floorboards, stealth-like agility, I was simply just procrastinating, I paused, holding my breath, as I slowly lowered myself to sit on the stairs, my butt activated the squeak, damn it! regardless of this action, I carefully listened in to the conversations; The preparation is what I call this tactic. Wait! three voices mum, dad, and a kid it couldn’t be could it? Words in my mind; “At ease soldier, stand down,” fight or flight, go-go-go Jack, I assessed the situation through a jar in the door “All clear Jack, mission complete,” “MUM,” I said with a rehearsed sense of excitement, secretly I did feel empty when mum was gone. “Jack what are you waiting for? Don’t stand on ceremony, come and hug your Mamma” “seriously I'm almost a man teen now,” ok, like I said before I may be crazy but I'm not stupid as much as I resisted it's disrespectful to say no to parents especially your Mamma. My mum's hug was like a bear, “I can't breathe!” “Love you, Jack,” she said in a tone that mums own. “Say it back,” my parents had a rule, you have to say I love you back, “I love you to mum.” “See that wasn’t so hard, was it? “You would think id asked you to eat Marmite.” My boy, I've missed you.” 20

“So true I hate Marmite!” Is this Pete? “straight to the point as always Jack.” Dad smiled, to be honest, I thought he had wind. “Yes, it is.” To be fair, I wasn’t remotely shocked, that he had turned up early, nothing surprises me with this family, the weird thing is, I didn’t even feel the need to question it, that’s unlike me, I was just glad to finally meet Pete, just hope we get along? “So Jack, Pete is not just coming to visit, he is going to be staying with us, can't go into much detail yet, so, welcome to the family Pete.” “Don’t be rude Jack.” “Sorry I'm Jack that’s obvious, nice to meet you, I will help you unpack.” It's weird but in a good way, I never thought I’d smile again, well at least not a forced one, a complete, somewhat, dysfunc- tional house; I finally feel a sense of purpose and the glue, is starting to knit our family back together. I could hear a faint, chatter sound in the background of a radio. “Dad sorry can you turn the radio up please.” “Yes, sure son, I didn’t realise it was on.” Just as I suspected, a news report on the radio, I listened intently. Reporter; “NEWS FLASH: The Lighthouse murderer, has been found. Earlier today a man fitting the description, broke into an off duty police officers house. Before the man could commit his heinous act, he was stabbed in self-defence, and later pronounced dead at The Liverpool Royal Hospital as a result of those injuries. We will keep everyone posted with developments.” “This is Rachael Bolton, from BBC News.” We were all stud frozen in the spot, like ancient status in a state, of immac- ulate preservation, without the worries of a pigeon taking a massive crap on us. “Who wants cereal?” ” You never cease to amaze us, Jack, you find any excuse to eat.” That’s because, hit the beat ♫ “I, love cereal so put some in, a bowl for Me!” ♫ “Nice one!” 21

“Wow Pete speaks” ” Play nice Hercules.” “Come on Pete, let me show you my office, upstairs before dad and Simon start tickling mum, “Simon?” “Pete looked confused, my dad's moustache I explained!” “O-Ok.” ” Pete, your room is first on the left, mine is first on your right, put your bag in your room then, feel free gate crash mine, I need to pee. Whilst I was having pee I could hear my walkie Talkie and what went down next, solidified the fact that Pete was related, so he and I would get on just fine. “Maverick this is Goose I repeat this is Goose, you there?” Then Pete did this.” Hello, this is Mrs Lockstock I've been told about your nudie maga- zines under your mattress.” To be fair he imitated my mum's voice to the tee, Jonny's voice all a quiver, priceless. “Sorry Mrs- L. Jack is lying,” I laughed so hard tears streamed down my eyes, I opened my door put my finger to my lips sssh I beckoned to Pete keep going. “My son is not a liar; I will tell your mum.” Poor buddy he was shitty bricks, I felt bad. “Jonny, it’s me, Jack, I'm with my cousin Pete, we’re just messing with you.” I high fived Pete,” Nice to meet you Pete, great news Jack, my sister fancies you over.” “Wow shut the front door, this nerd finally gets his Elektra.” “I told you id be your wingman, Maverick.” “Cheers Goose you’re the best, over.” It's so strange, this uncontrollable feeling of happiness, the spooky thing is I know Pete’s my cousin and all that, but it's like looking into a mirror, similar height, blue eyes, dark hair, even the same vampire fangs on our straight teeth makes me shiver, in a good way. Let me tell you about my Elektra, Gina Williams, Jonny's twin sister. She kind of looks like a younger version of a certain comic goddess, I wonder if she has amazing kick-arse fighting skills? It’s not long before we are back at school, at least I've got my birthday to look forward to, I’ve got to knuckle down with grades, Gina will not want a looser boyfriend. 22

“Is dinner ready mum?” “Yes, sweetie.” Ah, pizza and garlic bread my fa- vourite. “Like mama used to make,” That’s all I've got for an Italian accent. “How’s Pete settling in? You both seem to hit it off.” “You know my charming personality ma. Can Pete and I eat ours upstairs, please? “Yep take both plates up, Jack” “By the way, I have a girlfriend, so you both can stop interrogating me.” “love you both.” “I think that our son whistling?” I found out some pretty cool stuff, about Pete and some head wrecking things too, He said his words not mine, that he was adopted, by my Aunt and Uncle, and that they were waiting for the right time to introduce him to me. Crazy I know. My mum and dad, on the other hand, were sworn to secrecy likely story. That sounds a little bit suss, I mean what are the odds a kid looking like me, being adopted, mum said my Aunty and Uncle couldn’t have kids. Anyway, he is two years older than me, that’s all I've got, forget all that I've said, I've said too much, “This letter will self-destruct in 5.” Anyway, where was I, oh yes? See that’s the great thing about writing down your thoughts, you can leave out the boring stuff, keep in the good, while, the cool, bad things, make it exciting, with the bonus of keeping secret memories, well… secret; Yep, sorry backtrack, Peter plays mean drums and bass guitar, a step closer to being rock stars, he is a mean chess player keeps me on my toes, he also does, what for it, movie mirrors. So the day has arrived people, my birthday, sadly I didn’t wake up like the BIG movie, and my beard and deep, deep voice well it's deeper and I behold the Simon! Has two whiskers but all in all, very disappointing, plus to top it off, birthdays in school sucks. I have grown, my jeans look like they have had an argument with my socks, and my underwear keeps giving me a wedgy, I sound more like Frankie Valley, that Barry White., having to wait a whole day for cake, that’s not part of the law. “I will be down in a minute mum,” I just going through hostage negotiations, my underwear has kid- napped my balls, and my hair is like Bob Ross. “Surprise, happy birthday Jack!” Well, that made me need to change my pants, thank you, all the people I admire and love in one room, oh and DCI Sherwood for coming to arrest me for being so damn handsome.” “Jonny 23

and I got you this Jack I would have settled for a kiss, back off Jonny. “Amazing a signed Eddie Van Halen, guitar pick on a chain, thoughtful, thank you.” “Are you crying, Jack?” “No, I’m a man now!” Gina whispered in my ear “shame I love a man teen, that shows emotion.” “Right drum roll, here is your main gift son.” I annoyingly rip the paper off carefully I know it’s a bind but be patient, “Holy shit! sorry, mum, this de- serves £10s worth of swearing, it can’t be the, we are not worthy guitar, it said, Gibson, it was, and amp. “Now your crying, your girl” “Shut up Jonny,” “Thank you so much.” I knew it must have cost a lot, then I re- member what dad said about grandad in the cabin, a smile is priceless. Then this happened, Pete turned to me and said “I went thirds on it.” “Why would you do that Pete?” “Because you are my family, and it’s our job to make each other smile.” A few, years have passed now, I didn’t want to bore you with every detail, just trying to conceal and keep past years sacred, and concentrate on the present, whilst trying to maintain relevancy. We were all partners in crime, the cliché, stand by Me movie, inseparable, every 80s movie with teens, we were living it. That’s all it was, a fuckng movie, from my imagination where they cut the best actors, splitting up our gang, don’t worry I’m still with Gina, I haven’t screwed that up, by some miracle. But damn it why do I feel like hades and the underworld have, a ticket for me, it wasn’t my fault, then again, I should have protected Jonny. I will get to that in a minute, man wish, I didn’t have to relive this, maybe talking, writing will somehow lift, this heavy pain from my chest; Remove the hand that has a tight grasp, trying so desperately to rip my heart out. Was it something I said? had I acted carelessly with his emotions? Did I push too much to get the truth; I don’t know? I must have been disillu- sioned thinking, everything was good, the band, treasured memories; then it all vanished, destroyed like photographs in a fire, I gave Peter a set of dog tags inscribed ‘(Brother in Arms, love Jack);’ That would be the last time I would see Pete. Was I a naive prick, with rose coloured glasses? All I wanted was answers to a puzzle that I probably will never solve; Mum and dad are certainly keeping quiet; they won't tell me why he left. Why did he not leave a note? Even God forbid a suicide letter, at least I would have closure. Gina did, however, tell me that, Pete was fighting his demons and that his mind 24

was trapped in a type of biological battle, Pete was tired of using his domi- nant hand, he invariably wanted to switch until writing became fluid owning the right to be ambidextrous and free to choose what picture he paints, whatever that means? The truth is I miss, Pete and Jonny. Let me just pause and wipe my eyes before I continue; Last month Gina, Jonny and I, were going to meet up at the pictures in town. At 8:00 pm. Gina's friend's brother, was going to leave the cinema back door open, so we could sneak in, I think we were going to see ‘Silence of the Lambs?’ I had planned to do my famous sneeze on the popcorn scam, to get it for free, I dare say without fail, Jonny and I would scream like girls at the scary parts. I vividly recall, that evening, it was dark the street lights flickered each one arguing about being Edison’s brightest bulb. Boy, there was so much rain, each drop choreographing a Doppler effect routine on the concrete. Gina and I were waiting outside the pictures, I distinctively remember being soaking wet, because I was using my jacket to keep Gina dry, chivalry and all that, without taking away independence, that’s how it works. “Where is Jonny?” “We are going to miss the movie, we had planned this for weeks, this is not like him, there has to be a reasonable explanation.” “I am worried Jack; we have waited an hour now.” Gina’s pacing and nail had me worried but I tried to conceal it. I think because we, or rather our group are so symbiotic, we weirdly have a foreboding feeling: when either one of us is hurt, scared or in danger. ‘Call it our Spidey senses.’ “Can you hear that Gina?” “Here what? Stop playing Jack.” “I’m not playing, listen! There it is again.” A faint voice, I could recognise Jonny’s voice no matter what. No-no-no it's Jonny’s voice quick “Gina lets go check that ally.” The light- ing was bad in the Jack the Ripper Victorian-style ally way. I squinted my eyes. “Over there Gina, in the corner,” I said with urgency in my voice, I could just make out a silhouette of someone slumped against 25

the brick, I shouted using the deep voice id been waiting for, I roared “JONNY!” Time seemed to stop a slow-motion dream state, we ran over, it was my buddy, there was so much blood, the knife was still stuck deep in his neck, hang in their buddy. I held his cold shaking hand, Gina “GET HELP NOW!” I didn’t mean to be so rude barking my order, I just panic. Whilst Gina went for help, in between gargled bloody coughs and gasps for air, Jonny said “sorry Jack I guess I'm not superhuman, look after Gina, and try not to be a dick, be a legend. “I will do Goose.” See you on the other side, the danger zone, goodbye Maverick, OVER.” Tears streamed down my face as I closed Jonny’s eyes, with no pulse. Gina rushed back with the medics, they checked his pulse, we are so sorry your friend has gone. Gina slumped to the wet ground cushioned by the puddle, it was like the emo- tional baseball bat hit her right across the face and I couldn’t block it, just glad in some ways I didn’t have to tell Gina that Jonny was Dead. It is true in some ways time does heal, I thought as time moved with each passing year, I would heal, thus meaning I would catch a break, and be provided with a healthy dose of serotonin, and turning 18, things would get easier. That’s total BS, it is what it is. I didn’t get around to watching Silence of the lamb, maybe because it might be bad karma, or that Jonny’s ghost would jump out, and make me shit myself. Maybe I will watch it for Jonny R.I.P Goose, Ssssh, over. 26

The Dark Web Chapter 3 The Ambiguity effect 27

\"Flowers are restful to look at. They have neither emotions nor conflicts.\" Sigmund Freud. Let’s just focus, on the here and now shall we. It certainly was a roller- coaster of emotions getting to reach 18, I do however have the deep husky voice, George Michael stubble, controlling my erections, which embarrassingly occurred at the most inopportune moments through- out puberty, let’s just say has been dealt with; and let me reiterate, the grow- ing of a behold the Simon will not be happening unless a judge overrules it. Pete has still not attempted to get in touch! Probably dealing with, what hand to write with, his letters would look like a spider with ink roller-skates has break danced on the paper, only time will tell; oh… and also in between the world taking a massive dump on me, screwing me left right and centre making me feel violated, my dad sadly passed away, you are thinking the stresses of his job would have inevitably killed him, but oh ‘contraire, mon amis,’ the evidence shows it was the bacon sandwich to blame. Joking aside high cholesterol, plus faulty valves equal heart attack, a failed MOT. Being a partially open book should have been foreseeable by now, well one did tell you that some things are within my discretion there is a reason for choosing to be brief with some points in my life, hopefully, it doesn’t come across as heartless, I’m just trying to use my Heart… Less, “see what I did there?” I just don’t want to go into detail about too much sad stuff right now, remaining focused to get to the top of the mountain is my goal. A promise will however be kept to not bottle stuff up, but opening up is a gradual thing, check my back my fingers are not crossed I pinkie swear. Hey just look at it like this, some of the most iconic movie work on a budget, not too many fancy special effects, let’s keep it real and maybe ditch the CGI, for now, it's expensive, All I'm saying is I'm trying my hardest not to overthink things, or otherwise, the plot gets sloppy. “Well, I know what I'm trying to say even if you don’t.” Mum is still, you know? Mama hugs a lot, oh and ground-breaking news… da-da-da the magical proposal of marriage happened you guys and Gina said “YES,” no I didn’t hypnotise her, what's not to love, what can I say she is the best thing in my life, and also PS Gina/Elektra, she can kick arse. PPS I was romantic, ‘Stay on the road and don’t go on the moors,’ ‘distant howl’ please may I deviate? Some stories are best shared, “what? You may say,” I'm spicing things up, you know to break up the monotony, plus you would be helping 28

me heal, “so glad you people have empathy, did you enjoy your guilt trip, PS titty lip, I didn’t get a postcard. cheers, you’re the best.” Right first story: flashback, by the way, my GCSE results were not too shabby. picture the scene 1991, it's my school leaving disco slow dancing with Boyz 11 men track playing “I will make love to you” teachers trying to skip it, Jonny goes to get changed Jack the secret agent sneaks behind that boom box, anxiously waiting for my cue; out of the corner of my eye Jonny gives the signal, my cue arrives, quickly switch tapes to the flash dance song. “you know the one?” one job press play, Jonny busts through the hall room door dressed in a “WHAT!” Leotard, leggings, even the wig and acts out the “WHOLE” Scene to flash dance, with what a feeling as his soundtrack, he was living the dream. “Fact those legs that we teens drooled over, in the movie ‘flash dance’ they were dude’s legs “FACT! Look it up.” “They were still hot!” my eyes like camera lenses and my brain quickly took a photo- graph and put it in the album hall of fame, tears of laughter run down my face thinking about it now, classic Jonny, sure do miss that guy. Ok back to life back to reality, I am now armed with my driving license, my dreams, the world was an all you can eat Chinese buffet and I have a big appetite. Then I almost fuck it up sorry, I'm trying not to swear. I tried to keep a hold on life but memories, the blueprints for the architecture of my life redefined, planning permission denied, now I feel weak, I have bargained with Lucifer, please don’t change your perception of me based on this event. Last night, at 11:00, I snapped the sad feelings, were like a migraine I could shift, I drank a lot of whiskeys, mum was asleep. I grabbed mum’s car keys like a magpie to something shiny. I whispered to myself, “Stop! Wait, what I’m I doing?” Perhaps this is escapism, or me somehow seeking Navarna, “No I'm rat arse, yep drunk as a skunk, shush you will wake mum up, you pooh face! “I knew I was wasted because I asked the door handle to pull my finger, too much info sorry.” 29

Whilst driving headlight dazzled me car horns bullying me. Every time I blinked my eyes I would see vivid images of memories, it was like being tortured for a confession, pent up with so much anger, the sadness choking me till I gave in. You see, I found out who killed Jonny, and it's all thanks, to a dads note pad; I stopped off at a 24-hour petrol station, I don’t smoke but I bought a pack of Woodbines and some matches. I need time to think to clear my head I slouched back into the driver's seat, I could smell the odour of the detailing soap, clean, I turned over the engine the car purred like a content cat, I turned on the radio, Elton John, he seems to know the answer, my antidepressant, id almost calmed down, “No, it’s the only way, justice, I will be Jonny's voice, a one-night vigilante. I drove around and like a bloodhound tracking a scent, finally, I’ve found the prick selling drugs, time to lure this fly on to my web, my partner in crime will have my back, meet Barbra, aka baseball bat, the answers were so chromatic time to purge. Earlier on I said I like to keep certain things close to my chest, Well I need to come clean, you see my dad had a separate note pad ( called the oracle) containing information to crack cases, off the record information i.e. names, phone numbers, addresses… underworld street stuff I'm lead to believe that dad and DCI Sherwood used you scratch my back, you get my drift, the information in exchange for a get out of jail free card, a tactic implemented to keep crime safe, a contradiction in terms. I pulled up to the curb beside let's stick with the name prick, I casually stepped out of the car and lit a cigarette, as I inhaled, the nicotine filled my lungs with a calm vape of euphoria, but the cough was my cessation urging me to quit before it started, I felt in character, now is my chance, “Hey man can I bum a ciggy from you?” He said in a friendly inviting way that threw me off guard. “You looking to buy some golden girl, “Hey shh you want to get shanked.” Sorry man my bad, I will give you a good price, I said it in such a street style, he fell for it “yep man”, his voice now sleazy, I had to play it cool, I said not here, jump in, we will do the exchange at the laird docks, “ “Nah I don’t know you, man?” Quick thinking is needed, was there a connecting name in dad’s book?” I thought to myself; What was the name? `Ah yes, that may work.” “JAZZ, said you were the go-to man? Come on some tunes, chat, a smoke.” 30

“Alright, if you know Jazz let's go!” I’m, glad that worked I can finally unclench my butt cheeks, you better be- lieve it was scary I'm not a gangster. It, took immense will power to not crash the car, I just remained two-faced. “Hey man sweet wheels Jag Xj40, nice. “Cheers, you’re a son of bitch under my breath.” “Right, we are here it's in the boot, I left the engine purring, mum had a bag of brown sugar which may work, “Let me see it man” I showed him that fast he was dumb enough to believe it. “Hey, we're cool aren't we man? Come and get the candy Barbra was in my hand, ‘CRACK’ home run. “DID YOU KILL JONNY?” “So what if I did!” “That’s the wrong answer, Margret.” I whispered in his ear, “did you stab Jonny?” “Yes, he had it coming, the bitch”. “Barb, do your thing, WHACK!” He went down like a sack of potatoes. “Wake up, I need to know WHY?” With his last breath, he muttered between blood gargles… “Paybacks a bitch, see you in HELL” … “No pulse.” “You don’t deserve CPR, maybe I will see you in hell” … “Oh, Shit! It was self-evident that pandering to my waves of anger… was not the smartest move, queen taken now I’m vulnerable. “No shit Sher- lock,” shaking like someone battling with sobriety, or a Turkey at Christmas 31

time, perpetually arguing with the good & bad angels in my head, “What should I do?” “What! You’re kidding me thieving little shit, he had Johnny’s watch. Jonny had won that fair and square in the; “Who can shove the most marshmal- low’s in their mouth challenge,” upon lifting, his sleeve to removed it, I paused…There was a tattoo of; “Damn it. THINK? ‘Greek’ mythology, GOT IT! Anahita, Persian Goddess hanging by a noose on his forearm, well that’s going to upset the Gods?” “Bet you are wondering how I knew it was that particular Goddess? Simple; her open womb was visible which symbolises fertility, protector of women giving birth, see “Stupid is as stu- pid does.” “Right he can go to hell, aka the bottom of the Mersey.” Carefully wrapping his body in my mum's crochet blanket and with the use of some air bricks to weigh him down, this is the only way, just got to throw him into the water, “You can do this Jack? It’s just like a dead fish down the toilet?” lucky this guy was light; the calm waters were annoyed that I had awoken it the splash was like a contagious yawn causing a ripple effect, but now the job was done. casually closing the boot and lighting up another cigarette, I threw it away after a few drags because it made me feel sick, Was it the woodbine? Or the fact that I had just murdered someone, somehow justifying my actions, 'd settled my mind on agreeing that I was doing the world a favour. As I sat in the car, shaking, with feverish sweats, I lookup took a breath and started looking through the notebook, a business card fell out, maybe this could be my way out, and I could put a hold on the poker game that I was about to have with the devil, and lose. Could I be turning into the embodiment of Apophis falling into eternal darkness, with “chaos being my middle name” “Just make the call damn it?” Neatly printed card, fresh library smell, con- tact details: DCI Steve Sherwood, home phone number and address on the back, seriously let the criminals know where you live. Let's get this done, why on bad days does it rain? Don’t forget to mention funerals, it's weird how the drive back seems quicker than going to the destination, right look- ing for a phone box that hasn’t been pissed in or being used as someone’s home to sleep a drunken night off, Ah the corner of town street by the taxi rank, fingers crossed hope that one’s fine. The red paint was, chipped and the door is jammed, typical, with a sharp tug; Right it's open, upon lifting 32

the receiver I poised for a moment and then with trembling hands, dropped the money through the slot waiting for a clunk… when dialling, the sounds of the exchange tone vibrated in my ear, Automated voice ‘you have 3 minutes remaining.’ “Hello, who is it?” What time do you call this?” With pitchy tonality in my voice, and with breathless pauses, I replied “IT’S… ME, ‘JACK!’ I'M… IN SERIOUS… TROUBLE!” Desperately trying to rush the conversation before the money ran out. “Sorry to ring so late, but this is a ‘matter,’ that only you could deal with, having someone to confide in is my only solace, I'm in deep waters.” “Ok! Calm down, Jack. Have you got my address?” “Yes, sir,” I said with a sound of relief. “Make your way over, I will make a brew.” On the drive over, couldn’t help thinking that it would be wrong! to just get let off Scott free, “two wrongs don’t make a right.” I would be the poster child for parents who spoil their kids and never teach them consequences, for their actions. Pulling up outside, DCI Sheppard's house, I killed the engine, a deafening silence would ensue, the perfect habitat for negative thoughts. The once comforting night sky was looking down barring, judgement; Turning over like a wife shunning their husband in a marital bed, my paranoia was getting the better of me, bright stars seemed to switch off in disgust, the street lights shone down exaggerating my imperfections, casting a shadow of guilt. “The door is open Jack; come in lad I'm not paying to heat the street.” That’s a phrase I had not heard in a while, DCI’s voice was calm, it was un- nerving making me want to bolt from the stable. “Tea, son, I will re-phrase, coffee!” “Have you been drinking?” “Jack, choose your words carefully, and don’t lie to me unless they have started making mints whiskey flavoured.” 33

Yes, I have, I know it was reckless of me, to drink and drive, I'm such a hypocrite I preach about how those types! ‘The proverbial walking amoe- bas.’ “Don’t change the subject, let’s cut to the chase, what did you do?” I committed murder, I snapped I used dad’s oracle to find Jonny’s killer, technically it wasn’t me, it was Barbara?” “Let me stop you right there, I'm confused, a woman did it.” “No! My baseball bat is Barbra’ Lucifer’ and I were chatting, and he said, ‘Go on, do it, dare you.” “This is not the time for joking!’ It’s time for you to grow up!’ DCI Sherwood smiled, I’m noticing conflicting signals, was he an- gry or not? I w a false sense of security was accompanying me, and to boot “there it was,” the overwhelming sincerity in his eyes, Jedi mind tricks;’ he then concluded with, “You are like a son to me, this conversation is built on trust and respect, on both sides, two gentle- men partaking in polite conversation, on mutual grounds; do you admit you made a mistake?” “Saying no would make me feel jaded, 100% yes If could take it back, part of me wants to say yes. Sherwood just locks a warm embrace, which made me feel like a foolish child, I don’t think that was his intention. Uttering the words, “what will I do sir?” Feeling un qualified, clasp- ing my hands so tight, “Unexpected words came out of Sherwood’s mouth. “The streets will not miss… another heroin pusher Jack.” So many mixed emotions, maybe he was right, ‘WHAT?’ “No! Don’t do that sir? Don’t justify what I’ve done, by applauding me as a hero, we don’t get to play judge, jury, and executioner;” 34

“Jack my boy, just by you acknowledging that your actions were immoral, con firms my suspicion, that this was a bad act committed by a good person. You are a paradox, Jack, you have your mum’s kindness, and your dad's hot-headed stubbornness.” “This conversation has to end here; Simply by you divulging this whole thing to me and making me an accessory after the fact. Damn it, Jack…right you have two choices; Forget about the whole thing and make yourself accountable to me, that means if an order is given to jump, your answer should be how high; or admit guilt and accept your punishment like a man. I will give you till tomorrow, if I don’t get an answer, let's just say you will not like the outcome, by the way, don’t call me sir, you are not at school.” “I will get a blanket you can stay here for tonight, sleep of that booze.” “What about taking the car? Mums going to kill me.” “Don’t, worry I will talk to your mother…” “Please promise me one thing Jack, you will learn from this?” “turn your life around create another big bang. Good night Jack, by the way, you have given me an ulcer.” “Good night, thanks.” The next morning was crazy it’s as if I had been exorcised by a priest, no more head-spinning, levitating was cool though, my head was throbbing, on the table, was orange juice paracetamol, cereal and a note, hold your knickers, I will read it in a mo.’ I can’t concentrate on an empty stomach, that’s better, sorry! Start again, “damn now cereal dripping down my mouth, seriously.” “Dear, Jack, I have spoken to your mum, I told her some cock and bull story, that you needed someone to talk to, and that 35

you are sorry for taking the car but you didn’t want to wake her, so far so good. I need a decision, time is running out, leave me a note and we will go from there. Ps brush your teeth. Kind regards uncle Steve.” My decision has been made; forget and move on, if questions are asked plausible deniability will be used. ‘Lucifer’ is not going to back down without a fight, whilst nursing a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach like butterflies, my bargaining chip will have to be to sacri- fice my strongest chess piece. “Dear, Uncle Steve, thank you for your advice and letting me crash at yours, sorry I put you in a tricky position, that was never my intention, I was scared. sometimes finding it hard to ask for help, so I am leaving myself, at your mercy doing what- ever it takes to erase this mess. Ps, I have brushed my teeth. Kind regards Jack.” 100 hundred people should line up, each of them taking turns to kick me in the ball’s, like the scene from the aeroplane movie, would be less painful. Upon shutting the front door, stepping out into the cruel street was scary because it held me in contempt last night, ‘oh now you deciding to apologise,’ even the sun kissed my face. “NO- O-O, ‘fork handles and fart waffles’ This couldn’t be happening ‘DAMN,’ Scratches on mum’s car, permission to swear more? The probable outcome now is that death row is imminent for sure, come clean and just pay for the damages, that’s what new Jack would do.” “Time to face the ‘music,’ as they say.” The drive back to my parent’s house felt unnervingly smooth, was it the cars suspension? Or was it the road trying to empathetically cushion the blows of my mind beat- ing me up… “I don’t know?” 36

THE SOUND OF MY PARENT’S DRIVEWAY GRAVEL, WAS LIKE POPPING CANDY, AT LEAST MY KING WAS SHIELDED, TIME TO PUT THE SAFETY ON THE,\"ALEKHINE'S GUN.\" 37

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