The Devil Takes A Bow (Book #2 D.I. Marsh series)

By Samantha Franklin

“The truth has been corrupted and retold to suit the teller’s whims and gains; man has been educated with lies and falsehoods not with the word of the Lord. I give you the true education, the path to knowledge and the lifting of the veil of ignorance. Join me and leave your life of blind faith, come and see the light of enlightenment and bathe in its warmth. I give you a future free of doubt and confusion, a future free from the pain of this life; transform your earthly world into one of peace, cast off your earthbound chains and join me in a world of freedom.” His voice was laden with honey so sweet his audience devoured his every word.
Standing before the crowd he performed on the platform as an artist creating a masterpiece; he ladled forth his intoxicating cocktail and his audience absorbed every word. Dressed in a dark tailored suit that fitted his athletically, toned body accentuating a physique that appealed to both males and females, blending this with looks and personality that he controlled to perfection, he was in fact a lethal weapon. A fact he happily used again and again, ‘he was not just a man, he was the Lord’s messenger; he was the one bringing his Lord the lost souls.’ He smiled, ‘they are all such fools.’

• Language: English
• Publisher: Samantha Franklin
• Release date: Jan 31, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301310975

Samantha Franklin

Books have always been a large part of my life from an early age. All my family were and still are passionate readers, therefore to progress onto becoming an author seemed natural. Most writers need to search for material or experiences to base their work on, this is were I differ from most writers; to say I have led a colourful, eventful life is possibly an understatement. Through a number of reasons I have experienced a variety of things such as, being an athletic champion, escaping an abusive marriage, working with young offenders, being a top field designer, a part time actress and model, and also being the victim of a murder attempt. Many people have suggested that I should one day write my life story, to which I answer "no one will ever believe it is a true story" therefore instead I use my experiences as a base for my novels. It is up to the reader to determine just which part I actually lived.

Book preview

The Devil

Takes a Bow

By

Samantha Franklin

Published by Samantha Franklin at Smashwords.

Copyright Samantha Franklin, 2013.

The moral right of Samantha Franklin to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Design and Patents Act of 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

This work is fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

To my family, for all those meals you had to cook yourselves because I ‘was on a roll’.

*Prologue

The truth has been corrupted and retold to suit the teller’s whims and gains; man has been educated with lies and falsehoods not with the word of the Lord. I give you the true education, the path to knowledge and the lifting of the veil of ignorance. Join me and leave your life of blind faith, come and see the light of enlightenment and bathe in its warmth. I give you a future free of doubt and confusion, a future free from the pain of this life; transform your earthly world into one of peace, cast off your earthbound chains and join me in a world of freedom. His voice was laden with honey so sweet his audience devoured his every word.

Standing before the crowd he performed on the platform as an artist creating a masterpiece; he ladled forth his intoxicating cocktail and his audience absorbed every word. Dressed in a dark tailored suit that fitted his athletically, toned body accentuating a physique that appealed to both males and females, blending this with looks and personality that he controlled to perfection, he was in fact a lethal weapon. A fact he happily used again and again, ‘he was not just a man, he was the Lord’s messenger; he was the one bringing his Lord the lost souls.’ He smiled, ‘they are all such fools.’

PART 1-

This Is My Body

Chapter 1

D.I. Angela Marsh lay back against her pillows and closed her eyes. The brightness of the late morning’s sun rays dancing across her room could not lift her spirits; her mind drifted to a back to a recent telephone conversation and she recounted the details, however a light knock on her bedroom door and the entrance of the smiling, matronly form of Elizabeth Brown, interrupted her thoughts. The woman entered carrying a small tray on which its occupants’ delicious aromas were far greater than their size. Angela had endured so much horror these last few weeks and walked close to death’s open doorway; now it seemed she would not be allowed time to recover fully. Her friend and colleague Detective Anthony Millington was about to visit her, bringing with him his disturbing news. She had been extremely concerned about him during their recent investigation of ‘The Photographer’ case, his sudden disappearance had brought both suspicion and concern his way; at least, however the suspicion had been removed but now it had been replaced by the true tale of his absence and it was revealing itself to one of equal horrors. She only hoped she was now strong enough to help him save his family from the suspected Satanic Sect.

Are you alright sweetheart? Liz Brown enquired when she saw the expression on her surrogate daughter’s face. Who was that on the phone earlier? If that was work don’t you even think of going back, you’re still far too weak to take on a new case.

I know Liz, but that was Anthony Millington, his family have gone missing, that’s why he disappeared. She explained.

Oh no, the poor things, but you cannot help Angie you were seriously injured and you could have died! Liz’s concern for her patient would not accept her involvement in another case so soon.

I have to Liz, I can’t say anymore about it now; he’ll be here in about ten minutes.

I understand your commitment love, but please think sensibly first; I know you’ll end up, right up to your neck in it all, but promise me if you do start getting involved you will be careful, Liz placed an affectionate hand on Angela’s arm.

I will Liz, now just give me five minutes to get dressed before he arrives. Angela smiled, she loved this woman and her husband, they had put their lives at risk for her and she knew they would do it again without a moment’s thought.

With her usual tut tutting under her breath, but done not too quietly so that those who deserved to know her disapproval were still able to hear her, Liz left the room.

‘Liz is right; I’m not really strong enough yet.’ She winced as she slid off the bed and walked stiffly to the bathroom.

Broken ribs, punctured and collapsed lungs, bruising and the trauma that accompanies a near death experience of only five weeks ago, added their agreement with Liz’s comments rather loudly as she moved; the recent case of ‘The Photographer’ had certainly extracted a high price from her.

Ah Liz, if I keep eating them I might not be able to get up off the sofa! Millington smiled his statement but his sunken dark ringed eyes displayed his pain; he had arrived some minutes earlier and been ushered into the comfortable lounge to wait whilst Angela got dressed. However, upon seeing his pale gaunt face Liz had immediately decided he needed some of her home cooking to ‘perk him up’. She had ordered him to sit on the large sofa and had vanished into the kitchen returning momentarily laden with a tray filled with her famous home- baking and her extra large teapot.

The heavy front door opened and Joe was heard entering the hallway with a large bag full of long forgotten memories discovered from his exploration of the depth of the garage.

Lizzy I’ve found a bag of stuff you need to sort out. He proclaimed as he popped his head around the lounge door. He smiled his greeting as he recognised the man sat on the sofa amongst his wife’s plates of cakes and sandwiched.

I believe Angie is ready so you can go on up to her. Her room is on the left at the top of the stairs and is the second door. Joe indicated with a side nod of his head.

Millington nodded his grateful thanks and stood up, with a smile and a ‘thank you’ to Liz, he stepped around the central coffee table that had been a project of Joe’s in the early days of their marriage, and left the room.

The wooden spindle staircase led up to an open area that was brightly lit from a large circular window sitting high on the wall and looking out over the beautiful back garden. Addition light shone out from a door opening allowing the new light rays an escape route and as they mingled the open doorway blazed with an explosion of colours out of which emerged D.I. Angela Marsh. She looked amazingly healthy and with the brilliant lighting effects seemed to emit a celestial glow. Well he would certainly need some divine assistance Millington thought.

How can someone have a face to face with the St Peter’s pearly gates and stand here now looking as though they went there on holiday and then rode back with a set of angel wings? Millington walked towards her shaking his head in mock amazement.

Let’s just say I do my makeup well. She smiled at her friend but her gaze had registered his pain, any thoughts of her inability to help him where immediately eroded. It’s good to see you Anthony; however, you may want to use my makeup bag though because you look like shit. She gave him a friendly hug, turned and moved back into her room.

Perching herself on the end of her bed she picked up the pen and writing pad she had placed ready, so taking her cue, Millington sat himself down on the nearby wooden rocking chair.

I guess now you want the story. His attempts at humour now gone, his voice had taken on an empty tone and his eyes radiated his pain.

Yes please, we know each other well enough so its best just move straight to the problem; you know the procedure, just take your time and try and remember all details. Angela readied herself to record his statement.

Detective Millington closed his eyes and took a deep

breath; he looked as though he was battling an inner war that he was on the verge of losing. When he opened his eyes again they were filled with tears.

"If you remember I told you that my wife, Julie, had thrown me out during the last case, well it was partly true. I guess you all noticed I‘d been kind of edgy for some time. It was Julie, you see, she had got herself involved with this religious group and I didn’t agree with it. Christ knows if I’d known more about it I’d have sat on top of her to stop her from going to the meetings, but I didn’t know what they were like, so, like a stupid pratt I allowed them to come between us and then I walked." He lowered his head shaking it and muttering ‘what a fucking fool I am,’ under his breath.

Just stop before you go any further, tell me more about this so called ‘religious group’. Angela’s detective brain was now in full motion and craved every piece of information.

"Julie had struggled after having the second child, she had had a difficult birth as you know, but then she developed ‘post natal depression’, she denied it at first and said it was my fault because I wasn’t there enough to help her. We constantly argued for a time then one day I finally got her to see the doctor and he agreed that she had developed the depression and put her on some medication. I said I’d help as much as I could but this is not the most family friendly job, things looked like we were doing alright for a time and we seemed to be getting along better, then one day she told me she had met another mum at the nursery and that she was a member of a self help group that could help her with the depression. I was all for it and pushed for her to go and join; little did I know then that it was all a fake.

The group held their meetings in a youth centre near our house and encouraged the mums to bring their children; they provided a safe play corner with toys that was supervised by one of the leaders, it all looked perfect up to now. When she had been going a couple of weeks someone suggested that she would be an ideal candidate to join the leaders group. They told her they were a large group of people with a gift to help people overcome their sufferings, and that they’d been observing her and they had noticed that she had a healer’s aura, they flooded her with a truck full of compliments and nonsense. It was a load of bullshit! It wasn’t her fault bless her, she was vulnerable, and naive, all that attention filled the gap in her life that I had created."

So you’re saying they recruited her through this self help group?

Yes.

Is this group still holding meetings?

No they cancelled their booking about three weeks ago, I tried to get an address of the person who paid for the room, but all they had was a disconnected mobile phone number, all the payments had been in cash.

Alright please carry on. Her mind was on over-drive.

She told me about this offer and like the stupid pratt I am I laughed at her and made jokes regarding the colour of her aura. I practically bloody gift wrapped her for them! His body shook as he desperately fought back the sobs that threatened to pour forth.

It’s alright, it wasn’t your fault.

NOT MY FAULT! If I’d have opened my fucking eyes I’d have seen all the signs, they practically gave me a manual to follow, ‘how to hand over your wife to a group of nutters’, I did all the work for them and they walked in and picked up the goods. The sobs won their battle at this point and his body crumpled.

It took a long ten minutes and another of Liz’s pots of tea before he could resume his tale. His swollen eyes remained lost in his pain and his voice took on an automated tone.

Once I’d sewn their seeds for them, Julie began to attend all their meetings in one of their houses; it is more of, what they termed as, their ‘patron’s private residence’. It has large walls surrounding it and electronic gates with security cameras. A regular ‘safe haven’, she wouldn’t tell me anything about the meetings when I asked, only that she had discovered ‘truth’. I then began to get really worried that sounded like classic brain washing, fanatical talk. This was around the time she threw me out; and she began to take the kids with her to all these meetings. I went crazy when I found out and threatened her with a custody fight, this was what they wanted all along because she up and moved into the meeting house. I can’t even get near the gates now before the security guards are on to me.

Angela had sat and listened intently, so she actively moved herself into their house?

"A letter had been left at Dickens’ house for me, it was supposed to be from Julie saying that she felt threatened by me and had sought a safe refuge with the group, I was not to try and contact her or the kids, I can move back to

the house as she won’t need it any longer. I will receive letters from the kids but I’m not to write to them. This is not Julie writing this, this is them. We always agreed that no matter what happened between us the kids would always have contact with both parents. We’d seen too many mixed up kids from broken homes and vowed ours would never suffer. The whole letter sounded nothing like her, but the thing that really confirmed to me that they had been