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Illegal Aid
Illegal Aid
Illegal Aid
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Illegal Aid

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The brutal rape of a young woman provokes a group of friends to band together and provide some Illegal assistance to the judicial system. Too many monsters were evading justice, as in this case and they could no longer tolerate it. The legal system played by a fixed set of rules - the criminals however suffered no such constraints and made up their own rules. Too many were now evading justice on technicalities or slick lawyering and dangerous men were still roaming the streets because of it. These evil demons had to be punished for their crimes and if the courts could not do so - then this group of friends would gladly offer their unlawful assistance free of charge. Their sentences may be unconventional and rather severe - but they were most certainly effective and always produced the desired result and kept the general public safe as a result. While the court system may frown upon such vigilante activity, the general public most certainly would not. The crimes that some of these men committed were particularly heinous - animals were less barbaric. The guilty were now being punished - how appropriately is up to you to decide once you learn about the crimes committed. To this group of friends - their Illegal aid was considered beneficial to the everyday citizen as they could all sleep easier at night because of it.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherIan MacDonald
Release dateAug 29, 2014
ISBN9781310204531
Illegal Aid
Author

Ian MacDonald

The author was born and educated in England and served in the British armed forces and briefly as an officer in the British Prison Service. He subsequently became a financial adviser and retired as an executive in a financial planning firm. He took up writing as a hobby upon retirement and he now lives in Ontario with his wife. His writing has a military or law enforcement theme to it as his interests lie in that field.

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    Illegal Aid - Ian MacDonald

    Illegal Aid

    By

    Ian Macdonald

    Copyright 2014 Smashwords edition

    ***

    Smashwords edition Notes

    ***

    Thank you for downloading this e-book. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced copied or distributed for non-commercial purposes provided the book remains in its complete original form. If you enjoyed this book, please return to Smashwords.com to discover other works by this author. Your support is deeply appreciated.

    ***

    One of John Malcolm’s clients was brutally murdered and his wife had been raped and abused and the man responsible had walked away a free man. This prompted John and a few friends to band together and form a group that would offer their services to the judicial system to correct such wrongs. The judicial system was not exactly aware of this unauthorized assistance and the unorthodox methods being used to ensure appropriate sentences were applied to those who so richly deserved them. However, several dangerous criminals and many other monsters who posed a threat to society at large were now learning that a price had to be paid for their heinous deeds. The Justice Seekers, as they called themselves, now did exactly that. They may have used questionable methods, and the sentences imposed may not have met with the court’s approval – but most citizens would have turned a blind eye if not directly endorsing such actions had they been aware of them.

    Acknowledgements

    ***

    Cover Designer

    Rita Toews

    ***

    Photo Credit

    ***

    http://www.flickr.com/photos/citizensheep/3613179465/>Citizensheep via http://photopin.com>photopin http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/>cc

    ***

    I wish also to acknowledge my good friend Ray Armstrong for his valuable assistance and ongoing support in the writing of this book. His encouragement was a key element throughout and was deeply appreciated.

    ***

    All characters in this book are purely fictional as are the events depicted herein. Any similarity to persons living or deceased or to any similar events is purely coincidental and unintentional.

    Table of Contents

    Chapter One - The Patio

    Chapter Two – Margaret’s Ordeal

    Chapter Three – Legal Impotence

    Chapter Four – Reunion Dinner

    Chapter Five – The Gentleman’s Club

    Chapter Six - The Sting

    Chapter Seven – Claire

    Chapter Eight – The Spirit of Christmas

    Chapter Nine – Rescuing April

    Chapter Ten – Spike’s Trial

    Chapter Eleven – The Harem Slave

    Chapter Twelve – Michelle Comes Home

    Chapter Thirteen – Insurance Stories

    Chapter Fourteen –The Money Launderers

    Chapter Fifteen – International Intrigue

    Chapter Sixteen – The Baby Market

    Chapter Seventeen – Faith

    Chapter Eighteen – The Window Scam

    Chapter Nineteen – Identity Theft

    Chapter Twenty – The Artful Dodgers

    Chapter Twenty One – Investment Fraud

    Chapter Twenty Two - Humans vs. Dogs

    Chapter Twenty Three – Brent Goes Straight,

    Chapter Twenty Four – The Bodies Resurface

    Chapter Twenty Five – Back on the Patio

    Chapter One

    ***

    As I sit at the table awaiting the arrival of my friends my mind drifts back over the years to a time when we were all much younger. I am not as spritely as I once was, I am almost 60 now, but my memory is still razor sharp. At least I think it is. I can still remember my name, John Malcolm. That has to prove something, doesn’t it? (Now come on – be nice.)

    It is a warm summer’s day and my table is situated under a tree on the patio of my local pub. There is a gentle breeze that rustles the leaves now and then and the faint whiff of lilac drifts by occasionally also. The sky is almost cloudless, but the odd puffy cloud floats aimlessly by every so often. Some of the tables have umbrellas, but being situated under a tree, the staff felt it would be unnecessary to have one put up on my glass topped table. One was available upon request however; as I had been advised when I first came in. The waitress is a young girl of no more than 20 years old and she is on her own today doing the work of two or three. It is relatively quiet at present so she is not overly busy; Tuesday lunchtimes are not the busiest in terms of volume. She is wearing a short black skirt and a white T shirt, which she fills out admirably and on her feet she has a pair of pink running shoes and white ankle socks. Her smile is warm and friendly, but not flirtatious. It was obvious that she came from a good home. Just then my friends arrive, they have all bumped into each other in the parking lot and are now all talking at once. Ah Yes! I though, just like old times.

    Our friendship went back to our schooldays. We all took different paths in life, Colin was a lawyer, Derek a computer analyst, Brian was a policeman, Bill became a soldier, David a demolition contractor, Barney was a civil servant and I was an insurance man. As kids we would play together regularly, all the usual games and we all signed up in high school for various sports teams. Ah, those carefree days of youth and innocence. Colin and Derek were the brainiacs, the rest of us were merely ordinary guys having fun and barely scraping by. After graduation we lost touch with each other for a short while as we all struggled to carve out a future for ourselves. I travelled around Europe for a while, backpacking and basically living off my wits. I would seek employment where and when I could so that I might eat and pay for a hostel. I met some very friendly and interesting people doing this. It was educational, but hardly something I could do for the rest of my life. I was obliged to go back home, stop being a bum and forge out a more appropriate existence. I finally chose a career in insurance. Excitement is not the first thought that springs to mind when you mention Insurance to someone. Insurance men, by association must therefore lead pretty uninspiring lives. I never thought when I started off in my career just how wrong that statement would prove to be.

    The waitress then comes over to our table and the guys start to give her their orders. The patio has still not become busy and as the orders are being taken, some general enquires are made. Her name was Dawn. I live here in Markton with my Mom and Step Dad she told us

    Are you in college right now Bill asks. She replies saying that she is in the pre-med program in her second year.

    How is it going for you so far? asked Colin.

    Quite well responded Dawn, I find it very interesting. With that she finished taking the drink orders and smoothly glided away to fill them.

    That’s a really nice girl said Colin.

    Very nice indeed said Derek and everyone else agreed.

    Colin, that is the kind of daughter I would have liked, I said

    Me too he replied, she really is a lovely girl.

    The topic of conversation then changed to the good old days. They were not particularly good of course, but like most generations before us, we always refer back to the Good old days when everything seemed as it never was. As young men we were consumed with our various careers, getting married and raising families. Inevitably some of us were now divorced, some of us had remarried, including me. Thankfully I had no children who would experience the pain of divorce. My first wife, Doreen, sadly, could not have any children. Derek and Bill were also divorced and the others were all happily married. Their wives however, were blissfully ignorant of the activities their husbands had been involved in over the years. This is not an uncommon phenomenon of course; secrets exist in the best of marriages – but certainly not of this magnitude. We all considered ourselves to be good god fearing men – and by and large we were. All of us considered ourselves to be fair minded and just - and we carried the same moral beliefs and sense of right and wrong. After all, we had all grown up together in Markton and shared the same community values. Having said that; an event that occurred some twenty years ago, changed our lives forever. It was a simple burglary that had gone horribly wrong. This resulted in a murder and a rape and the culprit ultimately walking away free of all charges. It made us all realize that the society we had grown up in, was perhaps, a little less ideal than we believed it to be. I guess that realization galvanized us into taking action ourselves. It was 1980 then and things were not the same as they as they used to be. The days of Leave it to Beaver were long gone and so were the moral values of Ward and June Cleaver. The Civil Liberties brigade was in full stride and seeing Orwellian practices in almost everything and doing their utmost to correct them. According to them, criminals were being persecuted unjustly and their rights systematically violated by a brutal and corrupt police force intent on securing their quota of arrests regardless of guilt.

    Colin had decided to become a crown prosecutor upon graduation from Law School. He saw the way the justice system was going and wanted desperately to do something about it. He was very proficient at his job too; he rapidly rose up the chain to become a senior counsel. He had achieved considerable recognition within the legal profession and was widely respected as being a hardnosed prosecutor with an encyclopedic knowledge of the law. Murderers and villains of all types were terrified of him. Colin was merciless with them on the witness stand. Drug dealers too had a very healthy respect for Colin. They would have been even more terrified had they known his true identity.

    Derek was the geek of the group. He was heavily involved in the Y2K issue. This was a supposed computer problem that would occur at the turn of the century as the computer world had not programmed the computers to cope with a year of 00 on their calendars and clocks. It was causing quite a stir and doomsday scenarios were predicted regularly by those supposedly in the know. Experts like Derek were called in to fix things. Programs were written and re-written several times in order to thwart this problem. As the clock edged towards the midnight hour, the hand wringing and palm sweating began worldwide. The Far East would be hit first – how bad will it be? Hearts were pounding across the globe, wondering, praying that the damage would be minimal. It turned out to be more of a damp squib rather than a nuclear catastrophe. Derek and his ilk had saved the day. The world could now relax and go on as before. Derek was a wealthy man now. He had previously made millions prior to this in some Dot. Com Company he had built up and then sold, in addition to running his father’s company. He was also a brilliant engineer of world renown in his own field.

    Dawn came back to the table carrying the drinks and handed them out. She now took our food orders and then left to take them to the kitchen. Brian and Bill were now relating to each other, one or two stories involving their real jobs. Brian was with the RCPM but had ties to the intelligence branch (CSIS as it is called now) and Bill was ex Special Forces.

    Barney was a humble civil servant working in Ottawa - or so he would have people believe. The real Barney was an altogether different animal and one to be afraid of if you were on the wrong side of the law.

    Dave, the demolition man, was the very definition of the average family man, wife two kids the white picket fence. Everything one would expect him to be considering where he lived and how he behaved – boy would you be wrong!

    All the men seated at this table today were upholders of justice and most certainly dispensers of it. That is not to say the law would see it quite the same way. Their activities, although clandestine had the tacit approval of the public – or they would have if only the public had been aware of them. At this point, Dawn brought up the stand to the table and opened it out. She then appeared with a large tray containing all the food. She smiled sweetly and said Anything else gentlemen No thank you we replied and Dawn said Bon Appétit and departed. As she was walking away Dave picked up his glass as if to toast and said Here’s to the last twenty Years". We all raised our glasses, each of us engrossed in our own thoughts and reflections.

    Over the past twenty years this group had collectively encountered just about every kind of emotion and behavior known to man - Kindness and Cruelty - Hope and Despair - Sorrow and Joy. They had dealt with Murders, Rape, White Slavery, Extortion, Smuggling, Terrorism, Fraud and much more. It was these experiences that had made us who we were today. As I glanced around this table I was filled with admiration and pride for these men I was privileged to have as my friends. As concerned citizens we had endeavored to do our civic duty as we saw it. Where the courts were unable to prosecute or were unable to dispense an appropriate sentence. We willingly rendered our assistance. Justice was administered in one way or another. The courts were assisted, albeit unknowingly, by various means, in reaching the correct verdict and thereby awarding the appropriate sentence. In other cases where this was not possible, we dispensed our own brand of justice. Were we correct in doing what we did? I’ll let you be the judge of that. We were not choir boys, I certainly recognize that. However I do know that we all slept like babies, we certainly felt no guilt for our behavior. As I put down my glass, all the events of the past twenty years flashed before my eyes. Yes! I told myself, we had helped an untold number of people. We really were the good guys!

    As I mentioned I had travelled around a fair bit in my youth backpacking and earning a few dollars here and there where I could. I had seen most of Europe and at one point I ventured into North Africa. The sights I saw there I will never ever forget. It certainly gave me a far deeper appreciation for my homeland, Canada. We all take so much for granted and in fact expect it as a God given right – and for free too. Having seen the conditions some people lived under it gave me a whole new perspective on life. The daily struggles they endured were heartbreaking. To them of course this was daily life and they went about it just as we would back home being happy or sad as the case may be. The adversities they faced and their daily triumphs over them was awe inspiring. As I look back now I think this may have influenced my decision to take up a career in the Life Insurance business. Seeing how a family could be so adversely affected by the loss of the breadwinner had given me a whole new dimension on life and death and the devastation that resulted from such a loss.

    Our justice dispensing operations started as a result of a simple burglary that had had gone horribly wrong that involved clients of mine. It was a heinous crime and although the police knew exactly who had committed it – they were unable to prosecute him for it. The circumstances were such that he could, and ultimately did, slither his way out of it like the snake that he was. The realization of that was what prompted us to embark on a career as saviors of the judicial system. When we felt that they had made an error, or that they were hamstrung in giving an appropriate sentence, we would step in and render our assistance. Legal technicalities, slick lawyering or Charter Rights violations could not get people off when we were involved. We couldn’t right all the wrongs – but those that we could we most certainly did, and with ruthless efficiency.

    Chapter Two

    ***

    One morning as I was sitting at my desk one of the girls dropped off a few mailed-in enquiries. These are the ones you find attached to an advertisement in a magazine or newspaper that you send in for additional information. One of them was from a young Lieutenant in the Canadian armed forces and I subsequently dropped in to see him and his wife. They lived in a basement apartment on a country road not too far from the military base. They were a lovely young couple and they had just found out that they were going to be parents in eight months’ time. Their names were Malcolm and Margaret Barrett and they listened intently as I outlined the various options to them. I left them with the appropriate brochures and told them I’d return once they had gone over them and written down any questions they may have for me. I learned later that they were heavily involved in their local church and admired by everyone in that community. They both gave a lot of time to the church and its activities and also to the senior’s entertainment programme which ran all sorts of activities and of course Bingo sessions. When I called back a few days later I signed them up for a policy that reflected their current needs and allowed for the purchase of a house and protection of their mortgage once they had one. It was relatively inexpensive and well within their means and they were very happy with it. Two months later everything changed.

    As I am walking passed my boss’s office one morning he calls out to me,

    John, could you step in for a minute and close the door?

    Being summoned to the boss’s office and told to close the door is seldom an uplifting experience and generally involves something of a negative nature – a scolding or something like it.

    Yes George, is something wrong? I ask tentatively wondering what I am about to face.

    I am afraid there is, John, and unfortunately it involves one of your clients and the delay in processing a death claim.

    Oh, and why are we delaying the claim?

    Have a seat John and let me give you the full story. You obviously remember the Barretts, right?

    Yes, the young military couple.

    That’s them, well apparently they were burgled one evening and things went tragically wrong. The husband was murdered and the wife was raped repeated over two days. However, the husband’s body has not been found and no Death Certificate can be issued until it is. As a result we cannot pay out a claim without a death certificate as you know.

    Yes I can see that. I just can’t believe this, they were such nice people. The poor woman must be absolutely devastated –she’s pregnant you know.

    I was made aware of that, said George, this is a total nightmare all around. I’m sorry I had to dump it on you John, but you are their agent and you have a relationship with the family. I know it won’t be easy for you, but you are the best one to deliver this news and it has to be done face to face, John. This is not something to be done over the phone or by mail.

    I fully understand that, George and I will certainly call round and explain the situation to the family. When you called me in here I was not expecting this –this is really upsetting, they were such a lovely couple. I have occasionally suffered from call reluctance before, I guess we all have in this business – this however will be the toughest call I have ever made. I am certainly not looking forward to facing the family with this kind of news at a time like this. I will call in advance to set up an appropriate time – if there is such a thing in a case like this. Do you know what happened exactly?

    "Well I know what the police told me, it’s a real mess. Apparently Mr. Barrett answered the door when someone rang the bell at about 8:00p.m. on the Friday night. That was the last act he performed – he has not been seen or heard from since. Mrs. Barrett was in the basement watching TV and she did not hear the intruder enter the house. The next thing she knew she was tied to the bedposts by her wrists. This is what the police have managed to piece together so far.

    "Mr. and Mrs. Barrett were watching the TV in the basement and looking forward to a quiet weekend alone. The homeowners had left a message on the answering machine to say that they were staying at their cottage an extra day as the weather was so beautiful. Needless to say, the Barretts had no problem with having the house all to themselves that weekend, what young couple would? When the doorbell rang Malcolm grudgingly got up to answer it and was never seen again.

    ***

    The man at the door was Gavin Stark and he was well known to police. He and his brother Brent lived in a trailer park on the outskirts of Markton. Their upbringing had left much to be desired and their parents were by no means members of the social elite. Both of them had alcohol issues and promiscuity was rampant. Apparently they both had very healthy sexual urges and they satisfied them at every opportunity, regardless of whether their children were present or not. While this did not appear to have had a negative impact on Brent, it certainly did on Gavin and he had been in and out of prison several times on sex related charges. It was during these prison excursions that he had honed his skills. He had rubbed shoulders with all kinds of vermin whilst he was inside and picked up a lot of information along the way. Prison after all is a university for crooks and offers advance level instruction to inmates on how to avoid being caught again. One of Stark’s cellmates had taken him aside one day and told him how he had operated.

    Stark he said, you have no idea just how many horny housewives are out there in suburbia. They may all go to PTA meetings and look the part of hockey moms, but underneath they are lusty and in many cases totally unsatisfied. They all have these needs, they just don’t wish to acknowledge them – it’s not seemly to have such thoughts – and yet they do. They all like the bad boys – even though they have settled for urban respectability. They secretly crave to be kidnapped by a caveman and ravished by a bad boy. You just need to give them the excuse. Now if the woman is unwilling, you need to vary your technique. The secret lies in getting them to have a glorious orgasm despite them not wishing to – well not with you anyway. The secret lies in giving them the pleasure - you just go with the flow. Timing is everything, Stark. Watch for the signs of response, regardless of how minute and then strike right at the last second. Now remember, they are going to fight you at every turn and do their level best to stay calm and disinterested in your sexual administrations. This is normal – you just have to be patient, gentle rather than brutish, but above all be resolute. The technique I have told you about works, I’ve used it for years. It’s easy to hate an evil and vicious man – but a gentle rogue, who simply wishes to give them the best sex they have ever had –even if under duress, is a little more difficult. It is this that will drive them crazy later. It is their pleasure that matters here not yours. Once they lose control and totally yield to your touches you will simply go along for the ride –you’ll have won. Not one of the women I had using this technique ever reported me to the cops, or even their husbands for that matter. It works, but patience is the key.

    Gavin Stark had paid close attention to that valuable instruction and true enough, it proved to be true. He had attacked numerous women he happened to fancy and, using this new found Magic Butterfly technique as he called it, found that the women did not report him to the police. They had fought kicked and screamed and called him every name in the book, but not one had gone to the cops. He was in effect a serial rapist, but this so called technique had so far stopped the women from reporting him. Of course, the system itself may have been responsible for that and not his fantastic skills as he saw them. Rape victims are put through a vigorous grilling by defense attorneys and their whole lives are put under a microscope and often torn apart. Few women relish the thought of that, and having everyone know all the gory details. Sewer rats like Stark know this and use it to their advantage. He enjoys this game of Psychological Rape as he terms it – the women crucify themselves for allowing him to give them such earth shattering orgasms. How could they do that, it was insane, totally inappropriate and nauseating, and it would haunt them for some time, some needing therapy to counter it? Margaret Barrett was about to find this out for herself – the hard way.

    ***

    When Malcolm Barrett had opened the door, Gavin had hit him with a large 2x 4 piece of wood. He hadn’t meant to kill him, but he had done all the same.

    Shit exclaimed Gavin, and he screamed out to his brother. Brent, get your arse over here now, I’ve killed the bastard; I guess I hit him harder than I thought. Take his body out to the lake and dump it in with the others. Do not be seen by anyone and be extra careful okay. Let me go back inside first and see who else is inside.

    With that Gavin goes back into the house, pauses for a moment and listens, he hears a noise in the basement from the TV and decides to go down there first. He crept downstairs quietly and saw Margaret on the sofa watching the TV. He then picked up a heavy stone vase crept up behind her silently and knocked her unconscious with it. He then scoured the rest of the house looking for more priceless treasures. When he came downstairs with his loot he was not a happy camper by any means. His spoils did not exactly amount to a diamond heist. He checked out Margaret’s bedroom then and found very little of value in there either. He was getting angrier by the minute. As he was leaving, in his rage he accidentally knocked the answering machine and it played back Mrs. Hardy’s message about spending the extra day at the cottage. This now changed Stark’s plans. His rage now subsided; things had just brightened up all of a sudden for Gavin Stark. He hands to loot to Brent and tells him to go home with it.

    Okay, Brent, go and drop this dipshit in the lake and then leave the truck outside the trailer for the remainder of the weekend, if you need to go out use Debbie’s car. Play it real cool okay.

    Oh and what are you going to be doing here might I ask – I don’t suppose there’s a woman inside that just might keep you occupied is there?

    Yes there is and the poor woman has just lost her husband and I consider it my humble duty to comfort the poor widow in her time of need.

    I see, and I gather from that you are going to take care of those needs – whether she wants you to or not. I also assume that she must be attractive or you wouldn’t be bothering.

    Yes Brent she’s hot, a hell of a lot better than Debbie, but don’t you dare say a word. This chic is in a different class altogether – but she’ll be glad I stayed behind. She is young, beautiful and as fresh as a daisy, I’ve struck gold here this time. Okay, now go, I have to go and get ready to pay my condolences to the grieving widow.

    Gavin then goes back into the house and carries the still unconscious Margaret to her bed and then goes into the workroom for some duct tape. He comes out and then ties Margaret’s wrists to the bedposts. It is at this point that Margaret begins to regain consciousness. As he looks down at her he studies her from head to toe. She has long flowing lustrous black hair, is wearing a white blouse with a floral design and a short denim skirt with a similar floral design sewn in. He can also catch the faint whiff or perfume. Oh Yes, he thinks to himself, I am really going to enjoy her, she is way out of my league. She will really hate herself when this is all over for allowing herself to be totally satisfied by a lowly sewer rat like me.

    He then sat down on the bed and ran his fingers through her hair. She was awake now and screaming loudly and swearing at him and calling him every name in the book.

    Go ahead lady, scream your head off, nobody can hear you and I’m afraid your husband is indisposed – permanently unfortunately. I guess he had a thin skull. Anyway, don’t worry about that, I’ll take good care of you I promise.

    You evil slimy bastard she screamed, God will punish you for this."

    "Well I’m not a church going man myself, so I don’t think I’ll worry about the wrath of God. My sole purpose now is to show you how to really appreciate and enjoy your own sexuality. It has been my experience that most ladies like you have not really experienced the wonders of a full and total orgasmic explosion. Oh I realize that you certainly don’t want me to be the one to provide it, most ladies feel the same way at first – but they certainly do enjoy it in

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