Complicity is the new crime-fiction novella set in Hull featuring
Detective Sergeant Coleman and Detective Constable Maynard.
The thisisull.com serialisation is accompanied by the stunning black and
white photography of Roland Standaert, which illustrates the story and takes a unique look at the city.
Complicity and other stories are available for free.
for further details.
Roland can be contacted at email@example.com.
The rain refused to ease as Coleman made his way through Queens Gardens and on towards King Edward Street. He pulled his collar up and hurried his pace as he passed the decrepit looking Woolworths store; the crumbling of the once grand chain symbolising the decay of the street. King Edward Street wasn't particularly pleasant on the eye. The area wouldn't be improving, especially once the new St Stephen's leisure development and bus station around Ferensway were finally completed.
It's all very well the major stores opening units there, but what of their other stores within
the city centre? The old shops would be left to rot, unwanted and uncared for.
The local council would be complicit in the impoverishment of this part of the city centre.
It didn't seem like a well balanced plan to him. The new shopping developments would simply attract the same people to one part of the centre and leave the rest to become a ghost town. It would create as many problems as it does opportunities, he thought as he passed the library and turned onto Wright Street.
He pressed the buzzer and waited.
'Can I help you?'
'It's Detective Sergeant Coleman, I've got an appointment with Simon Gale.'
He waited for what seemed like an eternity in the driving rain.
The door was opened and he was invited in by a woman in her early twenties. She guided Coleman into the waiting room and told him to make himself comfortable.
'Mr Gale will be with you shortly.'
He looked around the room. It was quite indistinct and sterile. The walls were covered in the kind of posters you'd expect to see in such a place; bland, meaningless words about the dangers of drugs. Hardly likely to make much of an impact on most of the clientele, thought Coleman.
'Simon Gale', beamed the tall, well-groomed male as he entered the room, hand held out to be shaken.
'Detective Sergeant Coleman,' he replied standing up to meet him halfway across the room, feeling suitably ragged in comparison.
'Pleased to meet you, Sergeant'.
'Richard it is then. Can I get you a drink? A tea or a coffee, perhaps?'
'Coffee will be fine, thanks. As it comes.'
Gale guided Coleman out of the waiting room.
'Anna,' shouted Gale down the corridor. 'Can you get me a coffee for the Sergeant please? Black no sugar, thanks'.
Gale led the way down the corridor and invited Coleman to enter the boardroom. He looked around the room; the same mixture of posters and messages. He brought his eyes to rest on David Peel. Peel smiled at him. With his neatly combed hair, neatly knotted tie and expensive looking suit, he looked more like a walking advertisement for a men's lifestyle magazine than the ambitious hack that he was.
'Good afternoon, Richard. It's a shame that Detective Inspector McCormack couldn't make it personally.' said Peel as he stood up to greet Coleman.
'He did inform me that he was very busy. As this is an informal meeting to exchange views and information, we should just about manage without him.'
'That's what we all want, Richard,' said Gale, beckoning the men sit down. 'Firstly, I'd like to thank David for his excellent reporting on events so far. It's a difficult time for all concerned, but it's important that we raise awareness of the danger of drugs through responsible reporting.'
Peel nodded almost piously, while Coleman found himself biting his tongue.
'With respect,' begun Coleman 'this kind of reporting isn't helpful to us when we're trying to trace and eliminate suspects. These things take time. For instance, there is CCTV footage to review and we need to request mobile telephone details. We're doing our best, but a swift response isn't always easy.'
Fiction - Welcome To Hellville - Part 13 By Rich Mills
From: "audioally" To: "Black Star" Subject: BASF C90 tape transcribed and identified
Date: 28 Nov 2040 12:09:06
Thanks for the opportunity to investigate the origins of the BASF C90 tape that you forwarded onto me.
As I understand you found this in an open box with other items, it hasn't been
too badly damaged by the elements and
Fiction - Zero and the Neighbours Part 1 - Demo version 0.1 By Joe Hakim
Frank was one of the regulars. From the first day I started dealing poker on the tables, Frank was there. To look at, he was your typical moody old man - old in the Father Christmas sense - white hair, a huge white beard and a round gut that hung out of his shirt and over his belt. You could imagine him sat in a grotto in the bottom of Princes Quay with some mewling
Fiction - Just like Eddie by Bob Spence
I don't know exactly when I got into it but there you are.
Like most lads, I suppose it was the thought of being Bristol's answer to
Elvis that was some kind of inspiration.
Yes that was always there in the back of my mind, but the accent never sounded
quite right to be fair.
Anyway. The South Deans Village Youth Club was a right place back then and we used
Fiction - Off To See The Wild West Show Part 11 (1886: Hull, Yorkshire) By Frank Beill
We waited standing back to back, hoping this would give us some protection. The tribesmen slowly circled us, just as they would when attacking a wagon train of settlers on its way to California. Well, this is what my novel said they did.
Occasionally, a warrior would prod one of us. One snatched a hair from George's head before rushing back within the group
to display his strange booty.
Fiction - The Wall by Darren Sant
Sometimes your best is just not enough.
Panic stricken and panting I arrive.
There it is, a fucking huge wall. An obstacle blocking my progress.
A visible representation of all that I can't achieve.
Nervously I look behind me. I lash out at it, kicking and punching but to no avail.
It is rock solid. I jump but find it too high. I take a running jump
Fiction - Divine by Blair Ashworth
"Mein Führer? Mein Führer?" The old man in the long grey coat was bent over the body slumped in the chair.
"Give it a few more seconds, Henry," said the doctor. "Do you speak any German? It might lessen the shock." No, Henry didn't speak any German and he didn't much care about any shocks he might deliver.
Behind the heavy oak chair,
Fiction - Off To See The Wild West Show Part 10 (1886: Hull, Yorkshire) By Frank Beill
'So how are we gonna get in?' George kicked a loose stone across the street.
'We've got to circle the camp and look for a weakness in their defences. That's what Buffalo Bill would do.' I was not certain what my hero would do, but I thought my scheme had the right sound to it.
'Aye, but it's Buffalo Bill we're wanting to attack.
Fiction - Scissors, Paper, Stone! By Bob Spence
The Lord Nelson was your typical run-down seventies pub. The decor was in disarray, with half a mind to venerate the Royal Navy's biggest hero or to catch the eye of the potential clientele with the latest fashion. In this manner it achieved neither.
Mickey was the prototype glass collector for every
Fiction - Drowning, Swimming By Joe Hakim
Keith sat and stared at his wife, who was holding his daughter and staring at the
28" Philips Widescreen TV situated in the corner of his house, on his laminate floor,
flanked at either side by his Sony sound system and his X-Box.
He was sweating and his head was throbbing - the general effects of the weekend
Fiction - Any Instructions? By Denis Price
It wasn't the first time he'd missed the bus. From the Mess to the monitoring hangar was only a quarter of a mile walk, something he relished during the central European summer as the airbase had been carved out of heavily wooded countryside teeming with wildlife.
Fiction - Kat Out of the Bag Chapter Ten By Steve Rudd
As the sun rose, so did my spirits. The men before me were all aged and seemingly wise.
You could just tell that all three of them had been born in this valley, and had all lived and
worked there ever since.
If any, or all, of them genuinely believed in a heaven, then it wouldn't be an,
other-worldly place delighted by harp-twanging angels.
Fiction - Second Chances by Nick Quantrill
Available now, Second Chances is a crime fiction novella set in Hull that is
already attracting praise from readers.
Influenced by crime fiction heavyweights Ian Rankin and Hull's Robert Edric,
Second Chances is set to be a great success.
For a taster, see the extract reproduced below, only available
Fiction - Invasion By Bob Spence
Moody just couldn't stop scratching. His shirt was far too stiff at the edge of the collar
and the coarse material was driving him to distraction.
You could also say that Moody was distracted anyway. He was waiting for a letter from his fiancee
and there was none.
Fiction - The Death and Birth and Death of a Legend By Bob Spence
Goober liked to be busy. Some people could handle doing nothing, not Goober Walton.
Running the tidy but ancient gasoline concession suited. Suited well.
It was orderly and everything clearly had its place.
Some would say it looked almost military in its order and for that it
Fiction - Feller's in Cut By Maurice Fairfield
Well that's her gone. You don't remember me do you?
I'll have a pint while you're thinking about it.
It's me Jack, Harry Fergus's son. Here for the funeral.
Thought I'd see her get put under. Not sure why.
It's always a laugh though, watching a parson doing a
Fiction - Firm but Fair By Mark Pollard
Cry-Baby Jim Breaks. He pioneered it, they say.
And the hushed, almost ecclesiastical tones of Ken Walton had heralded it's
entry into Saturday afternoon folklore: the bright lights of
Blackpool and Great Yarmouth, down to the lesser reputes of Ilfracombe and
Skegness had all borne witness
Fiction - Puzzles By Denis Price
I've got a really nice room, when the door's closed I feel ever so safe and warm. It's quiet as well,
just the swish of the wind in the trees outside. I like the trees; they hide the big tall fence.
My watchers say the fence is there to keep me safe, and that's their job too, they're always there