Complicity Part 3 (3/4) By Nick Quantrill

(1/4), (2/4), (3/4), (4/4). Part 1, Part 2.

Coleman thought back to the grainy images that he had seen last night in the CCTV room. 'It certainly is. This place has obviously got the finances to do it properly. I suppose that their guests demand it.' They continued to watch in silence as Lock hurriedly set about his pint. 'He looks a little nervous, wouldn't say?' asked Maynard. 'Agreed. It looks like he's going to finish that pint in record time if he's not careful.' Watching the footage in real time, their attention was aroused when Lock stood up to greet his associate.

'Shit, come on...move into the picture...' Lock signalled over to the barman for another round of drinks. 'It looks like he's come to listen. He isn't saying much.' said Maynard as Lock stared intently at his companion. 'He looks distinctly uncomfortable. Look, you can even see him sweating.' Lock's companion remained tantalisingly out of sight, leaving the detectives wondering who it was. They watched for another ten minutes or so while the meeting played out before them.

'Jesus. He's had to wipe his face down with a handkerchief. He must feeling very uncomfortable' noted Maynard. Coleman was pleased. 'It's good to see a solicitor look uncomfortable. Maybe our mysterious friend here wants to discuss the size of his invoice with Mr Lock!' They watched as the meeting was brought to a conclusion as Lock's associate stood up and moved forward to shake his hand. 'Fuck me...it's David Mallory' exclaimed Coleman. 'Brendan Lock's meeting was with one of Hull's major criminals. This is a complication we could without...'

He pressed stop on the VCR and ejected the tape. 'Come on, let's get this back to the office.' McCormack was in a meeting so Coleman poured himself a coffee and sat down at his desk to clear some paperwork prior to the mid-afternoon briefing. He was pleased to see that the favours he had called in had borne some fruit. West had managed to wade her way through Companies House records to crosscheck Lock, Baxter and Smyth's client list to any limited companies known to the police.

He put the printout aside and looked at the fax from Vodafone. Usually it would take days, sometimes weeks, to get a detailed printout of the calls made to and from a specific mobile phone. Coleman picked up his highlighter and went to work on the printout from Ryan Stutt's phone. After sharing what they had seen on the hotel's CCTV at the briefing, Coleman sat back and listened to what Keane and West had learnt from their talk with Lock. Lock had made no attempt to hide the fact that Smyth wasn't very keen for the firm to sell their property and move eastwards from the city centre to a cheaper alternative.

He had also made no attempt to hide the fact that Ray Baxter was venomously opposed to the idea. Whether or not this was worth killing for was something to be considered, but it certainly gave Smyth a motive. They weren't aware of how much money this move might net the practice, but given the price of city-centre apartments, it was going to be a substantial amount. After the briefing had broken up, Coleman returned to his desk to carry on analysing the computer printouts.

Continued... Next Page (4/4)

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 Hello there, 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 Read more...

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 Read more...

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 Read more...

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. Read more...

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 Read more...

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, Read more...

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. Read more...

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 Read more...

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 Read more...

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. Read more...

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. Read more...

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 Read more...

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. Read more...

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 Read more...

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 Read more...

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 Read more...

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 Read more...