Murder to Order

By Terry Hayward

A gruesome murder in a prison leads eventually to the discovery of a badly decomposed body buried in a shallow grave. A former inmate is charged with the murder and he enlists the help of his Priest, a former lawyer. It soon becomes apparent that the mob are behind the murder and have framed the former inmate, but why? Investigating the murder leads to the kidnapping of the lawyer's wife and after run-ins with diamond smugglers and rhino poachers, the lawyer himself is kidnapped. The thrilling climax takes place as the mob force-march the lawyer along a crocodile infested riverbed in the dead of night.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Terry Hayward
• Release date: Apr 26, 2013
• ISBN: 9781612045375

Terry Hayward

I was born in Boksburg on the 3rd June, 1944, and lived in Benoni until I turned 7, when the family moved to Bulawayo in the then Rhodesia. I attend C.B.C. until the family moved back to South Africa in 1959 and then I concluded my schooling at Westville. In 1962 I attended the Durban Campus of the Natal University to study law. I was admitted to the side-bar on the 4th March, 1968, and practised law in Durban and Westville until 1987. I married Rita Hayes in November of 1968 and we had 2 children, Carmen who studied Industrial Psychology and Human Resources. Our son, Adrian, studied Nature Conservation and worked first at the Weenen Game Reserve before being transferred to the Mkhuze Game Reserve where he worked until he married a Canadian Lass and went to live in Canada last year. Carmen with her husband and 2 children now live in New Zealand and Rita and I live in a ‘granny flat’ with them.

Book preview

MURDER TO ORDER

(Terry Hayward)

Copyright: Terry Hayward

Smashwords Edition

Chapter 1

Jim was standing in the passage just outside the doorway leading into the gym, fiddling with his new toy, a brand new state of the art cellphone, that had been smuggled into the prison for him to keep in touch, surreptitiously, with his bosses in the mob outside the prison. He was in prison for murdering a woman who had failed to pay back money she owed to the mob but Jim had changed since those bad days when he had actually committed the crime and was sentenced. He was now a reformed character and a very different person.

His new toy was demanding all his attention as he struggled to push all the right buttons and at the same time read the instructions. He had found the camera app on the phone and taken a couple of test pictures of fellow inmates Spike and Zeke as they greeted each other preparatory to their surreptitious meeting in the prison gym, and now he found himself testing the video camera which he again aimed in their general direction, mainly to test the picture clarity.

He had just pressed the ‘record’ button when he vaguely heard Spike say to Zeke as the latter sat on the bench-press machine, I’m afraid that the boss is not very happy with you. You took some of his money without his authority or his permission and he doesn’t like that. In fact he’s really pissed at you, he added patting Zeke’s back less than affectionately. He wants to know how you intend to pay him back.

Spike had unceremoniously pushed Zeke onto the bench so that he sat on the bench, one leg on either side, with Spike standing behind him, also with one leg straddled on either side of the bench but standing ominously close behind Zeke with his right foot on the floor and his left foot up on the bench so that his left knee pressed uncomfortably into the middle of Zeke’s back.

You know that I didn’t steal anything. I needed money to pay my lawyer and that’s why everyone thinks I stole from the boss, but I used my own savings for that, protested Zeke defensively, looking back over his shoulder at Spike for the first time. If he really thinks I stole anything from him and that I’d cheat him, I’ll pay him back just as soon as I get out of here. But I would never steal from the boss.

I’m afraid that won’t be good enough, stated Spike, swinging his left leg completely over the bench so that he was now fully behind Zeke, his knee pressed right up against the other’s back. The boss can’t afford to let you or anyone else think that they can get away with stuff like this. What sort of precedent do you think that would set? he added, at the same time moving his right hand to the front of his overalls, nice and slowly, so as not to cause any alarm.

Suddenly Spike muttered, almost under his breath, This is with love from Johnny and the bossman.

With that, and at the speed of lightening, he clamped his left hand and forearm firmly across Zeke’s forehead, and with one smooth, practiced motion, his right hand emerged from his overall pocket and made a sweeping movement across the front of Zeke’s throat.

It all happened so fast that Jim didn’t even see the knife in Spike’s hand until Zeke slumped forward, grabbing uselessly at his throat and making a terrible gurgling sound as Spike pulled him backwards so that he didn’t fall forward onto the bench and make a mess on it.

Jim stood frozen in time, then as he came to his senses, his thumb hit the ‘stop’ button on the phone and he thrust it back into his underpants as he rushed into the gym just in time to see Spike pull a towel from inside the overalls he was wearing and wrap it around Zeke’s neck to prevent blood falling onto the bench or the floor.

Chapter 2

There is an old saying that Justice is blind. This is supposed to mean that everyone will get equal justice before the law and that everyone will be treated equally. I’m not too sure just how accurate this is because I practiced law here in Durban for over twenty years and my experience was that justice was, and still is, very selective, definitely not blind.

There is also another old saying that the law is an ass. I much prefer that saying because it’s far more accurate in my experience. I’m sure that anyone who has had the misfortune to need the services of a lawyer will agree with me. If you are rich, there’s little doubt in my mind that you have a better chance of finding what you would consider to be justice than a poor person would, simply because you can afford to hire the best attorney money can buy. But the question begs an answer, is that true justice?

If you’re one of the majority and you’re simply the man in the street (sorry, person in the street – I’m afraid I have a lot of difficulty in being politically correct), then you can’t afford the best that money can buy and have to settle for second best, and that you can still ill-afford. On the other side of the coin, if you’re poor, you can’t afford anything at all and at best you get stuck with pot-luck, what the state appoints for you.

What, with the capabilities of some of the so-called lawyers who have set up legal practices, I’m not convinced that often the poor are not in a better position than the middle classes. In their case not having the benefit of a lawyer, you’re at the mercy of the court and this is when maybe justice is indeed blind. The problem with the justice system is that it comes at a price that most of us simply can’t afford because the really good lawyers are so expensive.

In Hollywood, justice always wins out in the end and it is believed to be fair because after a long investigation by the attorney and a lengthy court case, the innocent always win. This is, of course the ideal scenario, but the main problem with this dream world ‘Hollywood’ system is that it overlooks the facts. The fact is that most lawyers have over a hundred cases on the go at any one time (not just one case at a time as in Hollywood law) and this is what brings the costs of litigation down substantially.

Could you imagine, if your lawyer only took on your one case, and only handled that one case until it was completed, what it would cost you, because you would be paying for all his time every day, and his staff’s time, until the case was over? (See what I mean by being politically incorrect – I’m sorry Madam but I know I should have said he/she because there are some very good female (Women?) lawyers around). Whatever; even the rich would then have to think twice about engaging the services of a lawyer.

When I practiced law I was part of that system (not just the politically incorrect one because everyone was part of that system in those days), but I always dreamed of one day operating as a Hollywood-type lawyer, or as an investigative attorney as I like to call myself. Yes, I’ve now retired and receive a small pension, which means that if anyone hires me, I can put all my efforts into just that one case and I don’t have to charge an arm and a leg to defend them.

What happened is that when I turned forty, I heard God calling me into the ordained ministry in His Church, so I sold my legal practice and off to seminary I went. After some years of study I was duly ordained as a Priest and in due time went into full-time prison ministry and subsequently into parish-based work. Twenty years later I retired from the Church and now I’m in the fortunate position of being able to practise as an investigative attorney. Because of my financial independence I don’t have to take on just any old case so that I can pay the bills, but I accept only those that really catch my interest; so let me tell you about this case I’m involved in at the moment.

My client is a young male, just turned thirty (I suppose at my present age I could be forgiven for calling him young) and who has been charged with murder and sundry other related crimes. My client, Jimmy, is a good looking kid, dark complexion with curly brown hair and a broken nose which is an inheritance of his criminal past. He was in prison and got caught up in the gangs there. Whilst in prison he found Christ and wanted to get out of his particular prison-gang because he couldn’t reconcile his newfound faith with his ongoing criminal activities in jail.

The gang leaders, of course, would not simply let Jim go, and so a long feud began between him and his old gang. But more of this and the whole corrupt prison system later. The long and the short of it is that Jimmy eventually got out of jail on parole.

Subsequently, after he’d been out for some years, it is alleged that he had committed a murder before his release whilst still in prison, but he claims he was framed because of his break with the gang and for leaving the mob, and so he is now back in prison awaiting trial for murder.

I had seen a story in the Mercury, our local Durban newspaper, a few days ago that a body had been unearthed in the bushes in the grounds at the back of the Westville Prison. The body, which was very badly putrefied and decomposed, had not yet been identified but investigations were continuing according to the newspaper. Apparently a dog had got into the prison grounds and while nosing around, looking undoubtedly for scraps food, had dug up a human foot.

I remember that this has always been a problem, not digging up human arms and legs, but dogs getting into the prison grounds, as warders’ pets now and again managed to get inside the prison fence in their quest for scraps of food. At one time it became so bad that the head of the prison had issued a directive to staff that if they failed to control their animals, their pet privileges would be revoked. The prison was Government property and so the staff members were only allowed to keep pets as a privilege, not as a right. The problem had been cleared up for a while but, obviously, had again reared its ugly head. This was why Jim, my client, was now being charged with murder relating to this body that had been dug up.

I’m a very good investigative attorney, basically because I always was a good lawyer, but now I have the distinct advantage of being very good at natural disguises as well, without ever having to ever stop being me. Let me explain. Firstly, I’m an attorney so I can be an attorney and slip into the guise of a lawyer and deal with people with authority as any attorney would. Then when the situation demands and circumstances dictate, I can be the Priest and put on that disguise.

You think this is nonsense? Do you have any idea how many little old ladies would refuse to speak to a lawyer, but will jump at the opportunity to open up willingly and talk freely to dear old Father Jack? By the way, my name is Christopher John Delaney (known variously to friends and family as Jack). Then of course, I can also slip into the guise of a private investigator, with, of course, a little bit of help from my friends. You’ll hear more about them later.

I’m five eleven, and whilst that’s not hugely tall, my friends tell me I’m about the same size in shoulder width. I have twenty-inch arms and in addition I also sport a shaved head and goatee beard with the result that I could well be mistaken for a professional wrestler!

Back to the present case. I met Jimmy (full name James Rutherford) when I was in the Westville prison just outside Durban. I wasn’t IN prison as such but was working there. Shortly after my ordination to the Priesthood the post of chaplain to the Westville prison became vacant and the Bishop thought that because of my legal background, I would be a good appointee. Boy O boy but was that a mistake. I always have taken my duties very seriously (that’s why I was such a good lawyer) and I was under the impression