Locked Up

By Oliver Lewis Thompson

When a simple burglary turns into a murder investigation, DC Shari Ansari must unravel the strange circumstances in her new job as a Detective.

Was it an accident? Was it a break-in gone wrong? Or does something more sinister lie behind it?

Guiding her hand is Detective Sergeant Ryder, an ultra-confident investigator with a reputation for delivering results out of nowhere. But is he as good as he says he is? Is that bravado backed up by brilliance?

In this first of a series of short stories by Oliver Lewis Thompson, the fast-paced, exciting read gives a powerful and realistic taste of life policing one of Britain's biggest cities.

Will Ryder's team get their killer? Will Shari fall at the first hurdle, or prove herself worthy to her ruthless superior?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Nov 18, 2016
• ISBN: 9781326867874

Book preview

Locked Up

Locked Up

Oliver Lewis Thompson

ISBN: 978-1-326-86787-4

Copyright © 2016 Oliver Lewis Thompson

All Rights Reserved

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent re-sold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the author’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

It also shall not be printed or reproduced in whole or in part, without permission of the copyright holder.

This book also available from author’s own site:

http://www.oliverlewisthompson.com

Prologue

‘If you had to kill somebody, how would you do it?’

Detective Ansari looked sideways at her passenger, glancing to see if he was being serious. He was. He always was.

‘What do you mean?’

The man repeated himself, a touch impatiently. ‘If you had to kill someone, what method would you choose?’

Ansari glanced at him again and frowned. She found it pressure enough to drive her new colleagues around at work without being distracted with silly questions. ‘Is this some sort of test?’

Her passenger looked amused. ‘No. No test.’

‘Are you sure,’ Ansari asked sceptically. ‘My answer isn’t going to give you some secret insight into my personality or something?’

‘Just answer the question, it’s perfectly simple.’

Ansari hesitated, this time sneaking a look in her rear view mirror where she could see the rear passenger - her new partner Detective Ben Bennett - grinning with amusement. Ansari pursed her lips and thought some more. ‘I dunno,’ she shrugged. ‘I suppose shooting someone in the head is the only humane way to get it over and done with.’

‘Okay, so you’ve just shot some poor bastard in the head,’ the first man continued, ‘and now you’re holding a gun – I presume it’s a gun, unless you have a crossbow in mind – and you’ve got only a few moments before people start rushing to the scene to see what the loud bang was.’

Ansari sighed, changing lanes a little late and causing the car behind to beep angrily.

‘I take it you were looking for a different answer,’ she said.

‘So you wouldn’t go for a suffocation or strangulation?’

‘Ooh no,’ Ansari replied. ‘Too much hassle.’

‘And you’ve discounted a good drowning or a fake suicide, or a poisoning?’ the man asked her. ‘Just gone straight to shooting someone in the head...’

Detective Ansari frowned again. ‘I think I’d start with shooting and work my way up,’ she joked. DC Bennett laughed in the back.

‘Interesting,’ the first man mused quietly, before being interrupted by the in-car police radio, which screeched to life at high volume.

All patrols, the voice on the other end began, we’ve had a couple of calls about a male walking along the Mancunian Way – white male, early thirties, wearing a blue hooded top and black jeans. One caller says this male has stopped at the top and is sitting on the barrier looking down... thinks he might be about to jump.

‘For fuckssake,’ Bennett groaned. ‘I knew it was bad luck not taking a plain car.’

They were heading for the Mancunian Way now - Ansari, Bennett and their sergeant, DS Steve Ryder – sat at the traffic lights on Great Ancoats Street, just outside Manchester city centre.

‘Shall I go the long way round?’ Ansari asked, already indicating to change lanes and turn away from the ring road. It was her first day as a detective and she didn’t want to upset her new colleagues by driving them against their will towards an incident both might consider a ‘ball of shit’.

‘Yeah,’ Bennett said, ‘go down the back roads and past the uni.’

‘No,’ the sergeant said, interrupting him, ‘we’ll go to it. Ben, shout up and tell Comms we’re just round the corner.’

Bennett protested but it was no use. Ryder had made up his mind and was already preparing himself.

The build up of traffic at the start of the flyover forced Ansari to turn off it and down a side street. She thought she could use her marked police car to block the lanes of the road underneath the bridge, where the man might land if he jumped or fell. Using her sirens and lights, she positioned herself fifty metres or so from the bridge across the oncoming lane. No sooner had she pulled up than Ryder got out of the car and, rolling his shoulders forward repeatedly, as if he was warming up for a session at the gym, he turned to her and Bennett and smiled a knowing little smile that was both cool and confident.

‘I did a negotiation course a couple of years ago,’ he told them. ‘You stay here. Tell Comms I’m going up there.’

Without waiting, he strolled back across the road and toward the off-ramp of the flyover, leaving the other two stood at the car watching on.

‘Wow,’ Ansari said, ‘shouldn’t we wait for Response to turn up first?’

Bennett nodded. ‘We need a couple of cars at least