First, Dig TWO Graves!

By Terence Charles

A horrible murder has occurred in Adelaide, South Australia, one that has ritualistic, and Satanistic overtones. Detective Inspector's Murnaghan and Rayner of the Australian Federal Police's Special Crimes and Terrorist Network (Trident) are sent to investigate.. The investigation takes them around South Australia into the wine producing regions, where they find they are pursuing an old nemesis of theirs a criminal that uses Celtic Occult influences to help him with his crimes.
They are involved in a number of gunfights where Murnaghan uses not only his trusty .357 Magnum, revolver several times, but also becomes re-united with a long-range sniper rifle, with deadly consequences.
The dynamic pursuits and battles continue as the criminal gangs plots become more violent and evil. The chase takes them across Australia to Sydney and finally they fly to the North coast of New South Wales where there is a final dramatic confrontation.
This novel is Book Five of the 'ThiefTakers' Series a stand alone novel, or one that can be read in sequence with the others in the series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Terence Charles
• Release date: Dec 20, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370198672

Terence Charles

Retired from the Police Force and now living in Sydney Australia, Terence Charles served in both English and Australian Police Forces, gaining long experience in various Police Departments. These experiences included being a beat 'Bobby', a Police Dog Handler, a sharpshooter (police sniper) as a member of a Special Operations Group, and as a part of a Detective Team investigating everything from missing persons, woundings, break and enters and burglaries, paedophiles, to murders.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Adelaide

He struggled as he half carried half dragged, the dead weight of Alice’s unresponsive body from the car and across the grass to the centre of the oaks. Donn, or ‘Mick’, as Alice knew him, had marked the spot earlier in the day. He had driven around the edges of the City and had walked through sections of the green belt. The spot was almost perfect, medium-sized bushes blocked the view to the roadway from the small clearing. An added bonus was the three mature oaks, growing in almost a perfect triangle, among the gums and jacaranda trees.

Earlier that night in Adelaide South Australia, a voice had penetrated the constant babble. Sure this is a lively little place isn’t it? The voice was strident enough to pierce the chatter at the bar with its strong Irish accent. Several of the drinkers standing nearby looked around with surprise at the speaker. They were an assorted group of young drinkers, students by their appearance. They were all standing in the long narrow bar of the Crown and Anchor Hotel in Grenfell Street, Adelaide. A pub with little room for sitting, but well known for the boisterous crowds of students who flocked there most evenings.

Beaming the speaker continued. This so reminds me of the Harp near the old University of Dublin. Wonderful nights were spent there I can tell you. These are the tutorials of life where you learn the essentials of the true student, eh? The mighty lessons in existence that no tutor or lecturer can impart with their cant and drivel.

The speaker was Padraig Donn, his powers of illusion exceptional, he could easily control what others perceived within the relatively small area of the pub’. Although a short sharply dressed man in his mid-thirties with dark shoulder length hair. He looked to those around him much younger, taller, hair fair and fashionably short at the sides, dressed in worn jeans and a hooded jacket. Donn’s dark eyes scanned the room intently looking for suitable prey, but to any of the bystanders the eyes appeared blue, innocent friendly and enquiring.

Worming his way between the drinkers he reached the bar and then turned sideways and exclaimed. Can I buy you people here a round then? A round of cheery drinks to celebrate my deliverance from the icy clasp of Europe?

At this proposal several of the group, male and female, looked at the man and smilingly accepted. Thanks mate, said the nearest youth. And who should we say cheers to?

Donn threw his head back and roared with laughter. I should have said shouldn’t I? Well you can call me ‘Mick’ if you like, or Micheal O’Reilly if you want to be formal about it. What’s in a name, anyway? Wasn’t it the beloved bard himself, who said a rose would smell just as sweet if you called it a cactus? The roaring of his laughter billowed over the crowd again, and he took a huge swallow from the schooner of beer he now held. Well, it was something like that, I seem to recall! No doubt one of you Australian scholars will correct me. He held his glass high as if toasting the crowd. "Me, I always say I’ve lived the ‘Life of Reilly’, and living it to the full indeed I still am!"

Soon ‘Mick O’Reilly’ was holding court to a group of eight of the young patrons, five young men and three young women. They found his conversation fascinating, and his presence remarkably stimulating for the young women.

He seemed to have travelled widely and could discourse knowledgeably on any of the subjects that were raised. Towards the end of the evening ‘Mick’ was directing his attentions towards one young women in particular, Alice Trent. ‘Mick’ had elbowed his way through the crowd to stand next to Alice. A pretty fair-haired twenty-year-old, who was studying psychology and communications. ‘Mick’ seemed to have an amazing grasp of both subjects and was explaining several difficult points to her whilst gazing into her bright blue eyes.

Hey guys they’re about to close here, we better get back to the dorm’s. The speaker was Roger, the twenty-five-year-old apparent leader of the group.

‘Mick’ turned towards him, his expression no longer friendly, but he caught himself and generated a smile. So early when we were just having fun and getting to know each other. Oh, Alice if you let me give you a lift back there we can drop by my motel. I’ve got some of my text books there you can have. I’ve no use for them any more. They’re the ones I was mentioning a few minutes ago. The motel’s virtually on the way to your dorms. It’ll only take a minute, probably faster than you walking.

Alice looked up at ‘Mick', she was obviously flattered by the attention and the thought of free textbooks. OK Mick, if you’re sure it won’t make me late. We do have a curfew at the dorm’s you know?

Sure we’ll be there in a flash. My car’s just across the street, in that little lane opposite.

Roger didn’t look too happy at losing one of his group. He could see that Alice was interested and keen to go with Mick so he turned to others. Drink up then you lot! The group all left together, the seven students still with Roger turned to their right and they went chattering along the pavement.

‘Mick’ took Alice’s arm and led her across the road, and into the small lane opposite the pub’. They walked for a few minutes and then he opened the doors of a BMW sedan.

This is very nice Mick. Alice was looking around the car approvingly. The smell of new leather upholstery and the obvious expensive accessories.

Oh, it does the job all right. So it does. As he was speaking ‘Mick’ leaned across Alice as if he was about to kiss her. Instead his right hand grasped her temples and exerted a slight pressure. Simultaneously he gazed into her eyes and muttered an incantation in words that made no sense to her wine suffused brain.

Alice was transfixed, almost rigid in the passenger seat of the car. ‘Mick’ released her temples and started the car. He drove away from the lane, not towards the University accommodation, but North out of the City.

Adelaide has an unusual aspect for a modern City. The entire down-town City area is surrounded by a green belt. A wonderful facility for City office workers who can stroll in the park like surrounds. Or they can jog or run, or just have a picnic style lunch in the open air. It’s a broad ‘ green belt’ with rolling green lawns, trees and shrubberies.

Part of the difficulty he was experiencing with moving Alice’s body was the sports bag that was now slung over his left shoulder. Finally he was satisfied with her position between the three oaks. He took care with orienting Alice until her head was pointing due West. Placing the bag on the grass near Alice’s head he took from it an unusual piece of metal. It was semi-circular in shape, polished with four holes on the concave side. He also extracted a strangely ornamented flask type of object from the bag. Putting the fingers of his right hand through the holes in the metal blade he held it above his head. The moonlight gleamed and reflected on its silvery sickle shape.

He walked completely around Alice three times murmuring quietly an invocation in an ancient tongue. Finally the blade was lowered until it was level with his eyes. Continuing with the invocation, his dark serpentine eyes reflected the glitter of the blade, as they moved over the runes etched into it. He smiled satisfied, the moon blade had been re-energised, it was ready. He could feel the subtle tremors as it moulded itself snugly to his hand and around his fingers. Looking down at Alice’s supine body, he stretched her arms wide and tilted her head back. The moon blade flickered in the moonlight and cuts sprang up on the inside of both of Alice’s wrists.

Two more cuts magically appeared on her neck just below the jaw line. Donn held the flask in his left hand so that the blood pulsing from the carotid artery slash on the left of Alice’s neck spurted into it. It didn’t take long until the flask was charged, full to overflowing, and the pulsing of both arteries had ceased.

He flicked back the light jacket that covered Alice’s upper body, and with care wiped the blade until all traces of blood were erased. The sickle blade once again pristine. He restored Alice’s jacket back to its former position, tucking it neatly around her body.

As he replaced the moon knife, and the sealed flask in the sports bag Donn glanced at Alice’s body. He was pleased with the aesthetic composition.

Alice’s arms were stretched wide, head back legs close together ankles crossed. The bloodied cuts on the neck and wrists shone eerily black against the pallor of her skin in the moonlight. He smiled, a smile that exposed the long canines in his mouth. ‘Very nice touch that is, I like it! An inverted Crucifixion. I do hope they appreciate it when they find her. A virgin would have been much better, but I’d have to take a babe from the breast these days.’

CHAPTER TWO

Medical Leave

Jim Murnaghan was relaxing, slumped in an armchair in the lounge room, the television on, but the sound muted. He had a book in one hand and a glass in the other. He held the glass up to the light, checking its level. Looking at the small amount amber liquid left in it he shook his head and slowly levered himself out of the chair to get a refill. He was about halfway to the bottle of Jameson Irish Whiskey on the kitchen counter when he heard a pounding on the front door of the Town House.

Briny I didn’t expect to see you this evening, how’s it going then?

Rayner replied stridently, Pretty good mate, thought I’d come round tonight. I’m taking off tomorrow for a few days.

Murnaghan’s voice was as loud as Rayner’s, Where you off to?

Just a few days down in Tassie. Look up a couple of old friends.

Murnaghan frowned. You see, the doctor yet?

Yeah, I told you I was going to.

Well, if he was anything like the one I saw, he told me to rest and keep things quiet for a while.

That’s what my bloke said, and he gave me some tablets for pain too.

You won’t be keeping things quiet in bloody Tassie Briny! Your old friends down there are all of the female kind, and they like the hotels, dances and clubs. That’ll be more like you raging then keeping things bloody quiet!

No, mate I can still remember a couple down there who like the quiet life. Fireside chats, cuddles, and cool nights. I’ll be right mate. Maybe I should say ‘I’ll be apples’, get back in the Tassie mode, eh? What are you going to do then, stay here and vegetate for the two weeks?

No, I called up and rented a cabin on the South Coast, it’s a quiet little place by a National Park. I’ll just have walks in the bush and on the beach and bar-b-q most of my meals. Should be good for the ears. I’ll catch up on my reading, I might even catch a fish for my supper if I can borrow a rod.

Detective Inspector’s Jim Murnaghan and Charles ‘Briny’ Rayner had sustained ear damage when only a few days earlier explosives intended to kill them detonated close by. It was the end of a successful investigation where they had foiled an attempt to damage the Australian Mint and other important places in Canberra.

The detectives had battled triumphantly with a gang composed mainly of Russian ex Special Forces members led by Conal Vidar. Vidar an evil Celtic adept who had plagued them numerous times in the past, often changing his name. Consequently their Boss, David Smythe-Jones, OIC of the Special Crime and Terrorist Threat Network of the Australian Federal Police had demanded they seek medical attention. He had insisted they take sick leave until their hearing returned to normal.

So where is this place you’ve booked into Jim?

It’s a caravan park in New South Wales, at a place called Merry Beach, not too far from Batemans Bay. It’s bordered by the Muramurang National Park and it’s really quiet there. Kangaroos and parrots come up to you and feed out of your hand. It’s got a nice beach, a swimming pool and the cabins are comfortable and inexpensive. Main thing its got bush all around and it’s bloody quiet.

Fair enough mate, well that should be good for you. Have you called or spoken with Tania recently?

No, I’ll wait for her to call me. If I call her now, I’ll probably scare her. Not being able to hear properly I find I’m shouting at people, and it’s really hard to stop myself.

Yeah, I know I’m the same. They can probably hear this conversation a couple of blocks away!

They both laughed, Murnaghan offered Rayner a whisky or a beer, but it was declined. Well Jim, I’ll be off, I’ve got an early flight in the morning. Just wanted to let you know what’s going on. I’ve got my phone on vibrate if you need me.

Have a good time time then mate and try to get some rest and quiet. I’ll keep my phone close too. You’ll take the Glock with you?

Course I will, I’d feel naked without it. You’ll have your magnum won’t you? You never know, even in the bush, and I won’t be there to have your back for a while.

Yeah, I’ll have the magnum with me, like you its a part of me mate. Be like losing an arm or a leg to go without it.

The following morning Murnaghan packed his car and set off after making sure the Town House was fully secured. The ‘Esky’ was well packed with ice and steaks and secured in the boot of the car with a hamper of other foodstuffs and essentials. The bottle of Jameson was on the back seat, wrapped up well and padded with his spare clothing.

Driving along the Kings Highway away from Canberra he was immediately struck by the quiet, and openness of the country. His first stop was in Braidwood, a quaint old-fashioned gem of a town with buildings in the shopping centre unchanged over the years. Murnaghan made his stop, for a couple of beers and a cheap counter lunch at the Royal Malt hotel. Like most hotel food it was basic, but filling and to his taste. He stopped again near the bridge at Nelligan and spent half an hour sitting by the car looking out over the river. The quiet and peace of the scene were like a soothing medication after the turmoil of the previous weeks. He took a left turn at the Princes Highway just before Bateman’s Bay and fifteen minutes later he was turning to the right. He followed the signs to Bawley Point and then to Merry Beach, his final destination.

The cabin was ideal for his purposes, not too big and only a short walk to the beach or a bush track. It was off-season and mid-week so there were very few other people on the site. Murnaghan thought to himself how he would enjoy not having to struggle to communicate with anyone for a while. He pulled from his bag a novel he’d just started, and half filled a tumbler with Jameson. Sitting on the small verandah he gazed out between the other cabins at the deep blue of the Tasman sea. Taking a sip from the tumbler he thought. ‘It would be nice to be able to hear the waves crashing on the sand… Although I think I can put up with this for a while though.’

CHAPTER THREE

Merry Beach

In four days Murnaghan had explored most of the areas around the campsite that were within walking distance. The bush tracks leading to the adjoining beaches, and the National Park itself were an ideal thinking space for him, and he had begun to hear bird calls again. On the fifth day he had walked again to the top of the cliffs over Snapper Point. He was looking out over the sea watching a sea eagle soaring over the water and the bush, looking for its next meal. He felt a vibration on his hip and realised it was his phone. Most of the area around the camp were a ‘black zone’ for mobile phone reception.

Hallo who’s calling.

Is that you Jim?

Tania, it’s great to hear your voice. How are you?

I’m feeling so much better now Jim, but I called your phone earlier and got no answer. Then I called your office, and they said you were on sick leave. What happened to you?

Oh, it’s nothing Tania. That villain Vidar triggered an explosion near Briny and myself. We weren’t hurt by it, but the noise damaged our hearing a little. The Boss said we had to take sick leave until our hearing is back to normal. We’ll be back at work next week I hope.

I’m glad you weren’t hurt badly. Are you sure you’re hearing is all right?

Yes, it’s been getting better each day. I’ve taken a cabin at a caravan park on the South Coast and it’s really quiet here. Just what the doctor ordered for our ears. Most of the park is bad for mobile phones though, and that’s probably why you didn’t get me when you called earlier.

Oh, well I better stop talking if the doctor ordered quiet for you.

No, no it’s much better already. I haven’t spoken with anyone now for three days, and I’m starting to feel like a hermit. It’s great to hear your voice.

Where is this park exactly?

It’s a place called Merry Beach, just Sydney side of Bateman’s Bay.

I know it, my parents used to take me to Pretty Beach when I was small, that’s the beach right next to you. We had our holidays in a tent there. It’s a beautiful spot.

I walked through the bush to Pretty Beach yesterday. Perhaps you could come down for a day or so and share my cabin?

I’d love to Jim, but I can’t. I’ve seen a doctor here, and he prescribed tablets, and I’m also seeing a therapist who is helping me with the dreams. I see her every second day, and it’s really working and things are improving. I’m sorry but I want to get back to normal as soon as I can. The dreams at first were terrifying, but they’re going away now. I’m sorry it’s just too early for me.

No, that’s fine Tania, you continue with the treatments. It’s good to hear they’re working for you. It was a terrible time, and you are doing really well to recover from it. How was it going back to work in Sydney?

Well I’m working at headquarters in Castlereagh Street. The work I’m doing isn’t anything exciting, filing and compiling information but that’s fine with me now! Excitement is the last thing I’m looking for at the moment. I’m still sorry I had to leave Canberra, but I just couldn’t stay there any more.

Tania Aliman a Senior Constable in the AFP (Australian Federal Police), had begun a relationship with Murnaghan when they were working in Canberra. She had been attacked by the Russian criminals and the evil adept Vidar. The attack had been physical and also involved Vidar invoking supernatural entities and ‘infecting’ her with them.

Tania had suffered badly, physically and emotionally from the attack and had returned to Sydney from Canberra to distance herself from where the attacks had taken place.

Murnaghan was holding the phone and nodding. I’m sorry that you had to leave as well Tania. But I realise it was the best thing for you. Too many things in Canberra to remind you of that awful experience. It really is good though to hear your voice again. I bet your parents are overjoyed to have you back there with them.

They are Jim, and of course they know nothing of what happened in Canberra. I just told them I couldn’t stand the politics of the place. They live out at Leppington, a small farm like place, on the outskirts of Sydney. It’s a bit of a jaunt into work each day, but the boss has let me work early shifts, so the traffic is not so bad.

Well you keep on with your tablets and therapy, and if I can get to Leppington, will it be OK if I call by to say ‘hello’ in person?

Yes, of course I’d love to see you. Your ears though what is the treatment?

Just rest and quiet and the occasional Panadol. Mind you I think I’m almost back to normal now, so at the end of the week I should be on my way back to Canberra.

Well you make sure that you have properly recovered won’t you?

I will, and thanks for the call. Lovely to hear from you. Bye now.

Murnaghan clipped the phone back on his belt, his smile was wide and his eyes shone. He breathed deeply of the salt tanged air surprised at how sweet it tasted. Two days later the steaks had diminished and the Jameson bottle was almost fully depleted so Murnaghan started packing for the drive home.

He’d driven for a while and as he was drinking a large black coffee in the bakery at Braidwood, He realised that it had taken him much longer on the return journey than when he set out. ‘Must be the relaxing influence of Merry Beach, slowing me down even in the car. I’ll have to get back in the swing next week, it’ll be time for work.’ Murnaghan pushed away these thoughts and purposefully drove the car on towards Canberra.

On arrival at his home in Queanbeyan he switched the cars engine off and parked it outside the front of his Town House. Leaving his belongings in the car he first went through every room checking and opening the doors and windows. Returning for his belongings he unpacked and was soon relaxing in his armchair with the television switched on, and a fresh bottle of Jameson broached.

He could hear the TV with the volume at the usual level! Luxury!

CHAPTER FOUR

Trident Office

The gleaming light of the sun woke him, a bar of it forcing its way between his eyelids. Murnaghan stirred, confused for a moment, where was he? What’s going on? Then understanding arrived, he was back home, and he’d forgotten to twist the bar on the Venetian's for night time. Plus, there was no soothing sound of waves to welcome a return to consciousness. ‘Back into it I suppose!’ he muttered as he rolled out of the bed and made his way to the bathroom.

He strolled into the Trident’s office at around eleven and immediately noticed a post-it yellow coloured note stuck on the screen of his computer.

‘DETECTIVE MURNAGHAN When you return please see Cheryl ASAP.’

Cheryl, you wanted to see me?

Mister Murnaghan, how good to see you back and you’ve got a bit of a tan! How are you feeling? How is your hearing?

I’m fine Cheryl, but there’s a note on my computer to see you ASAP?

Yes, I put that there a day or so ago. Mr. Smythe-Jones asked me to, he wants to know when you are back from your leave. I’ll just buzz him and let him know you’re in the office, if that’s all right?

Yes, of course Cheryl go ahead. What’s it about then?

I really don’t know Mister Murnaghan, he didn’t say, he just asked me to leave the note, and tell him when you’ve returned. Cheryl pressed a button on the intercom on her desk and quietly spoke into the handset. He’d like you to go right in if you would Mister Murnaghan.

Chief Superintendent Smythe-Jones head of the Special Crime and Terrorist Threat Network, often known as Trident, was an unusual Australian police officer. A graduate from an exclusive Private school in England Smythe-Jones had served with a Welsh Regiment, and the British SAS. Known for his immaculate dress and grooming, he spoke with the deep voice, and the rounded vowels common to the British upper-class.

Murnaghan found Smythe-Jones seated behind his desk as usual. Come in Jim, good to see you back. You look fit, how are you?

I’m well Boss, I’ve had a really restful break, and I feel much better.

The ears have improved? I notice you’re not shouting at me any more.

Yes they’re fine, I’ll see the doctor tomorrow morning and get a slip to return to work, but there shouldn’t be a problem.

That is excellent. Have you heard from Briny?

Yes, I called him, he’ll be back in Canberra tonight. He’ll visit his doctor tomorrow. He sounds fine and tells me his ears are back to normal.

"That is good to hear. Jim, the reason I asked to speak with you is that we have