Time's Up. She's Breaking the Ice.

By Craig Steele

Detective Matilda White and her all women team confront the violent drug cartel taking control of the city. This savage battle is like no other. They fight the fascist regime and face the vile leaders with their hideous creatures that they use to torture and kill.

Meth is just the tip of this bloody Iceberg. What hides beneath is pure evil.

• Language: English
• Publisher: eBookIt.com
• Release date: Jun 21, 2018
• ISBN: 9781456631536

Craig Steele

As a Police Officer I experienced the craziest things. Most days I could not believe or accept what had happened during my shift. When writing I use these wild events as inspiration for my work, whilst processing the memories and taking stock of them at a slower pace.They say the World is controlled by the Devil. That the love of money is the root of all evil. I agree. Heaven on Earth?. Are we there yet? No, this is still hell.

Book preview

SEVENTY-SIX

PROLOGUE

Matilda stares at the incident board. Her eyes are sore from the plane’s aggressive air vent. She rubs them with the back of her hand.

Great, now I’m going blind, just perfect. She whispers. The room is small and brightly lit. Three desks lay out in a neat row facing the board which covers the whole wall. Disciplined. Tidy. Computer screens and pen holders are laid with precision on each one. A Moose Head stuffed and mounted hangs on the opposite wall.

Just popped in for a quick look did ya? She whispers and salutes the Moose with huge antlers, then puts her thumbs to her temples and wiggles both her hands, sticking out her tongue.

Wow! It looks so real. She whispers, walking over to it. Stroking the Moose under it’s hairy chin, she stares deep into the eyes then giggles to herself and returns to the board. To her work.

Concentrate Matilda Come on!.(She whispers).You are a Police Officer. This place has probably got CCTV everywhere. You are being watched!.This is the Head Quarters. Time to look your best!. Oh no paranoia. I knew that sleeping tablet would mess with my head. Well at least the flight was quick. For me anyway, it was a blur. It’s a long flight from her home country and the air vent just kept on blowing straight onto her face. She wipes under her eyes with her index finger and searches through her khaki jacket pockets. On the board are the scenes of horrific crimes. Details are pinned out with names and photographs of dead people next to them. There are many pictures of buildings and vehicles. Maps of a City and a group of large lakes are displayed, covered with red dot corpse markers.

She looks closely at one picture of a twisted body laying face up on the tree edged grassy shoreline of a beautiful lake. A young man’s body. Naked. Her eyes go blurred, she blinks repeatedly trying to focus them both in on the scene.

Damn it!. Where did I put those eye drops? She whispers and goes through her pockets again. Her khaki trousers have many of them down each leg. She pulls hard at the zips, checking inside each one.

For Gods sake, what in the Hell did I do with that stuff? She speaks out loud, annoyed by the awkward mechanical openings. The naked man’s skin is covered in tennis ball sized, circular shaped deep abrasive wounds. He is completely deflated. Hollow. Another scene shows a man naked in the back of an old pick up truck, with the same type of injuries. He is flat too. Like a nasty costume.

Why no blood at the scene, killed elsewhere? She asks and ties her long blond hair into a knot on top of her head.

Where the hell is my scrunchy?. She goes through her pockets and takes a small clear plastic bottle of eye drops out, tilts back her head and squeezes hard. The little bottle whistles and spits. The soothing fluid floods her eyes and pours down her face. Relief.

Ah bliss, that feels good, my eyes are on fire. She gasps, puts back the drops and gets a stack of big tissues out. Kitchen roll, super strong, super absorbent. The best essential, first aid kit. Her Dad always made sure she had plenty of kitchen roll with her, when ever she went out.

A tip for easy living. He would say, and was always right. Even at school when she was five he would somehow manage to fold away a whole roll of it, packed into her many pockets and lunch box. It always came in useful. Runny noses, tears, grubby hands, spilling a drink, the unmentionable stinky stuff and much worse. Her hair comes undone falling around her shoulders and over her face. She quickly checks her wild appearance in her smart phone.

Far the freak out, now I look like a zombie, where is my lip salve?. My lips are worse than a petrol sniffing frill necked lizard’s! She states, then chuckles to herself, trying to look at the crime scene pictures. Regaining her focus, she backs away from the board in disgust.

What in the Hell. Dear Lord, that looks really bad! Matilda moves in much closer, for a more detailed view of the strange injuries. She speaks out loud. Puzzled by the weird images.

What in Hell would make that mess?. So, is that extreme paint balling?. Yep I have heard of that over here. Yep. That’s what happens if you loose the game, death by paint ball. These guys play hard and I thought footy was a crazy sport. She continues to study the images. Moving swiftly and silently across the room behind her are two people in civilian clothes. Both of them are wearing Police ID lanyards around their necks. Rich perfumes fill the air. They stop and stare. The young woman and middle aged man watch. The man wears a dark blue suite, it’s ironed up the legs and arms to a sharp knife edge. His hair is pure white, combed back and immaculate. He is tall and well built, obviously no stranger to the gym. The perfect male, it seems.

The woman is tall, slim, dressed in a dark blue trouser suite. Her light brown hair is styled in a neat cut bob which frames a toned face and immaculate eyebrows. Both look tanned and very healthy. The woman speaks, her voice is quiet and slow. A pleasant tone.

Hi Matilda. What in Hell, indeed. We have never seen wounds like that either. Now paint balling, that’s something we have certainly not considered. I think we should. She giggles and looks, smiling at the man. Matilda turns startled by the voice. Long snot strings swing from her nose, her cheeks are soaking from the eye drops and mascara. Her hair is hanging wildly across her strangely, Zebra patterned face.

Fantastic!.(She states). You caught me at my very best! The young woman holds out her manicured hand towards Matilda.

Detective Jacqueline Saint. This is my Boss Detective Leon Lewis. He’s in charge of this case. I spoke with you on the phone.

Hi Jacqueline. Sorry about the bad language there. Nice to meet you too Leon. Great place you have here. Matilda frowns at the board.

I hope those pictures up there have not upset you Matilda. Jacqueline asks in a caring tone. She outstretches her hand further towards Matilda as does Leon. They both look down confused as Matilda offers her hand out to shake, stuffed full of kitchen roll.

Crikey!. What a great first impression!. I look like I need a straight jacket don’t I?. Far out, am I doing well, or what?. You must think all people from my Country are crazy cave dwellers, looking at the state of me. Well let me explain just a bit here. No the pictures are not too upsetting. Shocking yes. Confusing Yes. I am however, kind of falling to bits at this very moment, because of the flaming air con in the plane. I was trussed like a chicken up there. Add to that a bucket load of jet lag and the sleeping tablet I took and, bingo!. Matilda takes a bow. All three of them smile. Matilda folds up the kitchen roll and packs it neatly in her many pockets. She spins her hair confidently into a bunch and pulls a scrunchy off her wrist, then captures the bun with it.

Found ya!. Cool. Now I’m cooking with gas! Matilda cries out.

Not to worry Matilda. You will have plenty of time to settle in. Leon, Detective Matilda White is from the Federal Police Down Under, their Drugs Division.(They shake hands).Matilda is here to hopefully help us out. She has had to travel a very long way. Matilda stands up straight, takes a deep breath and coughs out loud. She keeps coughing. She gags and shakes her head in total disbelief.

Jeez, now it’s choking. Far out, blooming eye drops, they taste like rotten grapefruit! (She states). This is going so well. She gets out a tissue, wipes her mouth and tries to breathe again.

As you guys are both aware (she coughs loudly). Excuse me please. Ice or Meth production here has dramatically increased. So if I can help you, then we may be able to stop it from getting into our country, hopefully. That is the idea, and not a bad one. We have a serious Ice problem and it’s spreading very quickly, and it’s all bad. It’s believed that a large amount of the product is actually coming from here, so yep, it would be great for us to shut it all down. Detective Lewis passes Matilda a photograph of a close up shot of the unusual wounds. She looks at the print, frowns and shakes her head.

They have triangles of broken skin running into the middle, where there is usually a deep hole entering through the fat layers, rupturing all the blood vessels and going right down into the bone. The skin all around them is always raw, but with no bruising. Jacqueline states. Matilda looks at another photograph of a man who has the same wounds all over his face. Again, no blood or bruising is there. Around both of the eyes are large round rings. The man has his eyelids held open wide, by forensic tape. Both of his eyes are missing. In the middle of each empty socket is a deep hole revealing his white skull. Matilda stares in disbelief then quietly comments.

That is so sick! What kind of sicko would pluck out the eyes? Detective Saint points to the color map on the board of a massive lake system and a large City. She draws in a big breath and then speaks.

We have four dead. Found here (she taps the red dot locations around the Lake and in the City). Three are intact. One is in pieces. Some of the parts are still missing. All with the same injuries. All with Ice in their bodies. We have no ID on any of them except the man from your home City. Which is where your information kicks in. Matilda opens her pocket book and flicks through the pages.

Yep. So. Now this guy is identified as Simon Crane. He was from Sydney Street in the city docks area. He was twenty eight. Born here in this Country. We have a criminal record on him for possession of a small amount of Ice in our Country. That’s all pretty boring stuff!. But he worked for a shipping merchant out of the City, so we think that’s the connection and that’s how the Ice is getting into our Country so quietly. Hence, that’s why I’m here. Matilda smiles. Jacqueline taps her red painted finger nail on the board and speaks.

So to sum up. We have no hard evidence or ID on the four. Killed we think in the same way by someone or something very very strange, but all of them were positive for Meth or Ice and that’s the connection. Jacqueline gives Matilda a group of photographs of a young man with round wounds on his face, neck and upper body. She speaks.

"We arrested Jake Jones three days ago. He was found naked by the wharf screaming like a banshee. He was going ape shit crazy!. It took five officers to bring him in. He was cursing, swearing and ranting in a foreign language. His home address is right here. He has the same type of round injuries on his body. His blood test showed extremely high levels of Ice, or Meth. Actually a lethal amount. He was flagged by us after a violent incident two years ago over his overdue fuel account with the High Street Gas Station. He got a 12 month suspended sentence with a few bells and whistles attached. Not a thing heard from him since. All quiet. Now that on it’s own is of some interest. But this is the thing, if he is connected to what is going on here and the wounds say that he is, he will be the first one that we have found alive, with a story.

The first one to give us a start on this case and the first one that we have found that has any blood left. All the other bodies are bled dry!. Not a drop. Nothing in them at all. Not just blood, but all the fluids have been well, sucked out. Yesterday he was interviewed in a secure ward at the local hospital by one of our Detectives, Sarah Townsend from the Drug Squad here in the City, a highly experienced officer. It ended I’m sorry to say very badly." Jacqueline becomes upset. Detective Lewis offers Matilda a coffee from a steaming glass pot. He pours it into her mug. He pours one for Jacqueline and offers them a Whiskey top up from a small silver hip flask. They both refuse. He speaks quietly in a serious and low tone, putting his arms around both of their shoulders moving in very close to them.

We need to find something from this tape, we need a clue. There may be details in this interview, if we can unravel the crazy stuff that he is saying on it. He could be just a whack job. However it’s obvious from the tape, that this is one messed up case. He may be involved in it somehow, somewhere. It’s a mystery so far. Above the incident board is a large sign in bold black print, it reads: TASK FORCE. BREAKING THE ICE. Leon continues speaking.

Now. As this is your first day Matilda, I thought you could see the interview tape, to give you a better understanding into what you are in for, to help you get up to speed as quickly as possible. This case from looking at the bodies, and if what he is saying is for real, will be one Hell of an awful ride. This will test, I have no doubt, the very stuff that we all hold dear and our faith. We either have a mad sicko serial killer, or several killers. Or it’s just drug and I mean Ice related. Any path we take on this will lead us to the Devil. I hope you young ladies are ready for this. Welcome to our Country and to our City Matilda. This video is my way of, BREAKING THE ICE. Enjoy your stay. He smiles then places a Police ID lanyard around Matilda’s neck and pats her firmly on the shoulder, leaving his hand there, gently stroking. Switching off the lights, he presses play on the flat screen TV. It flickers and shows a title, JAKE JONES, POLICE INTERVIEW, General Hospital, Security Ward. Matilda is concerned and looks at Leon’s familiar roaming hand.

Jake Jones is sitting opposite Detective Sarah Townsend, across a small table, in an interview room. There are no windows. It is beige. Jake is very thin, his skin is covered in scabs, circular wounds are on his face and neck, he is rocking back and forth and very agitated. A door slams in the background with the sound of it locking closed. Townsend speaks quietly to him and smiles gently.

Jake you know me OK. I’m Detective Sarah Townsend, we have talked when you were brought into the Police Station, before you came to this hospital. Everything is alright now.(She smiles). You may not remember me. You are not under arrest. I’m just asking about what happened to you, that is all. To find out who did this to you and why?.That’s all Jake. Townsend points at the circular wounds on his neck and face. He immediately stops rocking and stares at her, he is completely still. Townsend smiles at him pointing to the wounds on his lower arms. Jake explodes! With a high pitched scream, jerking backwards on his chair away from the desk. He shakes his head around, violently!. Hissing, he spits loudly at Townsend. His eyes are wide with fear. Townsend is startled by the action and moves off her chair, backing away from the table. She puts her hand tightly on her gun holster. Jake grabs in a panic at his own face and neck with his wild scabby fingers, scratching great welts down his skin. His twisted face bleeds. He continues to hiss loudly and sticks out his chewed up tongue. It has a round wound etched into it, a large hole in the middle passes straight through. He puts his hand up over his mouth. He stops hissing, stops moving, then speaks!.

I took nothing!. Nothing!. He said that I should die!. That I had failed them, stolen their Ice. That is what happened. Jake wraps his own arms tightly around himself and sobs loudly, rocking back and forth, shaking violently without control. His eyes roll up to the ceiling.

He just laughed at me. He laughed! I could hear them. They were whispering. Watching me!.Down in that hideous tank!. I knew he would put me in there. They were all hissing. Oh God!. They wanted me real bad. Climbing up to get me, to kill me. No!. No!. Not like that. Oh God. No. What he does to us, what they do, it’s! He becomes more upset and starts bringing up bile as he rocks again. He looks quickly all around the room. Yellow and green froth from his shivering mouth and chin, fly off across the desk and floor.

Who laughed Jake who?. Was it all about drugs?. Was it about Ice?. If you can tell me who did this, who?. Please just say!. Who hurt you, then we can arrest them, we need your help. Jake suddenly drops and tries to get under the table, clawing at the floor like a rabid dog, pushing himself hard into the small dark space whimpering, he curls up in a tight ball. Townsend slowly approaches and gets down closer to him, she speaks quietly trying to calm him.

Who was whispering, who was hissing Jake?. What do you mean, putting you in?. In what?. Where were you?. You have to remember. Jake shivers and trembles violently. His eyes are filled with fear. He fixes his gaze hard on Townsend. Whispering, he puts his index finger up to his torn, bile covered, cracked and bleeding lips and looks all around.

Shush!.(His hands shake).They can find where I am. They can always find us, eyes everywhere, eyes watching!. He gives us to them, as a punishment. If he thinks we do things wrong, as a warning. We have to watch, to watch the other punishments. Maybe I lost a little Ice here, lost a little Ice there. They were going to punish me, for letting the Ice just melt away. He pulled me up though, changed his mind. Then I ran, I ran away.(He laughs then his face goes dead). I was naked but I ran, I got out, they didn’t see me. He will not stand for that. Oh no!. He controls them, controls us. Nowhere to hide, I can’t hide from them!

Who is it?. Who is after you?. Who was hissing Jake?. Who was chasing you by the wharf. Everything will be OK, if you just tell me who, then we will protect you. We will protect you, we can do that. Townsend speaks firmly and outstretches her hand slowly to Jake. He abruptly jumps up from under the table and smacks her hand away, then punches her hard and fast in the face, twice. Her head snaps back, blood spurts from her nose. Townsend falls silently, her head hits the floor with a hollow thud. She is stunned!. Trying to focus her eyes she raises her head and follows Jake as he circles her. He snarls like a dog at her, froth and saliva pour from his mouth. He smiles, sneers, then smiles again. His eyes are fixed on her, his posture changing with every second. Townsend fights to gain composure, pulling herself up on her elbows. Her right arm shakes then gives way, she collapses back down as the blood bubbles and spurts out, from her broken nose. She chokes on the flow running down her throat and spits it out across the tiled floor. The snarling gets louder, the movement quicker. Jake cries out and leaps on top of her, crouching over like a vulture. Baring his teeth, he moves up and down sniffing her clothes, licking and biting at her skin. Pulling hard with his rotten mouth. Saliva and brown bile strings out from his face across her body. He pauses over her neck and smiles.

His holed tongue rasps slowly up under her chin and around her throat, deep into her ears. He licks her lips, prizing open her mouth, putting his putrid tongue deep inside. She gags. He removes it slowly. She coughs up blood and vomit over his face. He smiles at her and smears it in eagerly. His tongue moves up inside her nose licking and sucking her blood. Then he slides it across to her eyes. His tongue works on her eyelids sucking at her left eye. He whines loudly, rocking on her body. She weakly pushes him away and turns her face towards the door. He snarls, whispers something in her ear, then growls out loud.

Listen to me woman, before I end you. It’s not who that is after me It’s not who that hisses, you know nothing!. It’s not who that will suck out the brain from your stupid head!. It’s what. And let me tell you this. It’s not pretty, and when it’s done, you will be ugly too. Jake slides her service pistol from its holster. Townsend tries to stop him, her arms fall to her side. He places the barrel hard up under her chin and grinds his teeth. The hissing begins again. Tears stream down her face, she coughs up blood, her breathing is choked. She strains to speak. To be heard.

Please I have a baby, a little girl. Please, I’m a Mother. At the door stands Detective Leon Lewis, he is looking calmly through the glass at Jake, who sits on top of Detective Townsend, rocking wildly. Detective Saint suddenly appears too and looks in. She is shocked!. The door is unlocked and bursts wide open. Jake sits sharply up astride Townsend and aims the revolver at her right eye then screams out loud as he sees Leon and Jacqueline enter. He fumbles with the gun.

They are everywhere. Many eyes, everywhere! Two gun shots ring out!. The video camera is knocked from the stand to the floor. Blurred, violent, chaotic images can be seen. A flash of light!. Another shot is fired. A hideous wet rasping sound can be heard, a midst the chaos of a violent struggle. The TV screen goes black. Silence.

CHAPTER ONE

Rasping in the blackness, as a match is struck against the box, held between two shaking fingers. A flash of light ignites a small stainless steel gas lamp which is placed on a tiny, metal square table. The warm yellow glow grows brighter as the roughened fingers twist a knurled knob on the side of the old fashioned lamp. The light illuminates the faces of two elderly men. It glows brighter still to reveal that they are dressed well in thick blue overcoats, black snow boots and red woolen hats. They sit opposite each other inside a cozy, green, metal and wood shack. The walls are lined with sheets of thick corrugated steel. In the corner sits a small black, pot bellied stove.

A stainless steel kettle lies cold and dormant on it’s top. The two men look like gnomes, in their little fantasy home. The shack has a small square window. Seen through to the outside, it is pitch black. Snow flakes flutter down in the night sky, they are bouncing off the glass like a mass of albino moths, attracted to the light. On a wall hangs a large mounted and stuffed fish. It looks like an unusual Eel with tiny black eyes and seven vent holes along it’s brown and green side. It is as long as the shack and as thick as a man’s thigh.

Together the men fix large double headed silver hooks onto a sturdy line, attached to two fishing rods. The Eel stares down at their work. One of the men finishes and cuts his line with a bone handled knife with a black skull on it, he stands, the ceiling is low, just above him. Turning around, he opens the door to a metal cupboard on the wall behind him. It is full of ammunition, jars and a large shot gun. Removing a glass bottle of green fluid, he places it on the table next to a black silenced pistol and a large clear jar, full of gray tongues.

I guess it’s time we hooked up hey Jim?. Before we head out. Forecasting a heavy snow fall tonight. He opens the jar carefully. The man has an unusual accent, with many layered foreign hints. Jim finishes his hook tying and slices up a tongue, pouring on the fluid. His face is covered in a close cropped white beard. Protruding from the whiskers are his purple nose and matching purple ears. Jim speaks in the same accent, blowing clouds of steam from his mouth, out across the cold shack.

Bob my brother. You are correct. Much better to bait up in here, I think we have a good chance of hooking us another King. The tide is in our favor, pushing the lake our way. Which is very good, for us. Bob runs his open palms across his forehead smoothing his white bushy eyebrows out towards his ears. White hairs bristle from his lobes. Jim smiles and rubs his hands together rapidly, blowing onto them and flexing the fingers backwards, cracking the knuckles loudly. He pulls a silver stud piercing from a tongue and puts it into a small jar filled with gold and silver studs, pours on the green fluid and weaves the sharp double hook, through the fleshy flapping morsel. Staring into the green bottle, he is briefly captured by it’s magical promise, then carefully he pours out more, onto each prepared tongue. Both men lift up and rotate their rods. Their gnarled hands caress the shape. They inspect their bait, admire its color and smell.

How are things at the factory Jim?. I heard there was a little tension down there, while I was away, a possible spy, so to speak. Jim smiles, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and replies.

Things are running very smoothly now, my dear brother. We had a few difficult moments no doubt about it, with an annoying woman cop. Caused us a delay in delivery, but that was soon taken care of. Bob raises his eyebrows at Jim and strokes his chin, knowingly.

Did our many blood hounds, take care of her, the cop? He asks.

"Oh yes! A fabulous display. Such a shame you missed it. She has gone for sure, that one will not be coming back. Oh no!. And all the bases were covered very well, with the naked fish that got away, so to speak. A slippy little one that was, but not now. The Boss