Dial M for Monkey

By Monkey Kettle

Here lies twelve tails of the criminal and corrupt, of murder, larceny, mystery and suspense. From the creative pranksters who brought you Monkey Tails Of Terror, Do Monkey’s Dream Of Electric Kettles? and A Fistful Of Monkey’s, Monkey Kettle proudly presents Dial M For Monkey…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Feb 16, 2015
• ISBN: 9781326187903

Book preview

Dial M for Monkey

Dial M For Monkey

The love of books is among the choicest gifts of the gods.

― Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

Contents

7. Introduction

The Great Monkey Robbery...…

11. The Silver Lining by Steven Bolter

15. The Accident of the Century by Duncan Belk

35. The Diamond as Big as a Golf Ball by Phil Sky

Monkey, She Wrote...

61. Rose by Persephone Delta

67. Kevin by Mike Edwards

89. Cas by Claire Spencer

95. Unfinished Business by Kayleigh Southern

111. At the Bellmarsh Hotel by Johanna Steele

Crime & Monkeys...

121. No Crime Here by Geoff Spring

127. Quid Pro Quo by Chris Townsend

149. Valentine’s Day by Kit Power

157. The Wings of a Dog by Cissy Aeon

199. The Writers

203. Afterword

Introduction

Welcome friends, to another bumper edition of short stories from the ever dependable Monkey Kettle brand; bringing you increasingly sporadic and diverse creative output from the dark and rainy streets of our fair city, for this time the genre is Crime.

I’m not sure what it is about the subject of Crime that makes it so compelling. In reality, crime is usually such a dismal subject when it is reported in the newspapers, but it’s a fair conclusion that all of us have wondered how we would get away with one sort of crime or another at some point. Popular beat artist Amanda Palmer once sang; it’s so depressing when people die in real life, but somehow Agatha Christie made grisly murders committed by devious perpetrators with despicable motives into a nice way to spend a relaxing afternoon on the sofa. History is full of heroic outlaws from Robin Hood to Billy The Kid - for four hundred years, highwaymen were revered as a unique form of local hero, admired by many and feared by most. Perhaps it is the sense of freedom that breaking the law of the land and getting away with it evokes? Or perhaps it is a fascination good law abiding citizens may find in those that don’t play by the rules? Whatever it is, be it horror or mystery, crime continues to compel us. So it is with great pleasure that I present you with twelve stories to intrigue and amaze, to laugh and to cry to, to let criminals win and justice prevail, murder most horrid and foul play at every page; I present you with Dial M For Monkey…

Phil

The Great Monkey Robbery...

The Silver Lining

By Steven Bolter

There was this guy once, or so my uncle Barry said, who had a heart attack in the middle of a burglary. I know that sounds a bit far-fetched, but Barry often came out with silly stories like that. Like the one about the guy whose cock was so big he could give himself a blow job. No-one really believed that. But the guy on the burglary, I could see that happening. And it did explain how come Jackie Milne dropped out of sight about the same time.

Anyway, the story goes that Jackie and Stooge Roberts are in the process of ransacking this film director’s house in Virginia Waters – just up the road from Elton John, actually – when Jackie starts complaining of chest pains. They’d located a floor safe, drilled out the concrete around it, and were using a couple of pry bars to lever it out. The idea was to take the safe away and open it up somewhere a bit less public.

Jackie and Stooge are both leaning back with all their weight on these pry bars, grunting and sweating with the strain of it, when all of a sudden Jackie goes: Ooh! Agh! Me chest! Me chest! drops his pry bar, and starts grabbing at the front of his jacket. Everyone knows Jackie’s a born comedian so Stooge thinks he’s just playing around and tells him to lay off.

Come on Jackie, I can’t do this all on my own. But Jackie doesn’t take any notice, just falls back and starts rolling around on the carpet squawking like a parrot.

Stooge isn’t exactly known for his tolerant nature and starts to get upset. He tells Jackie to get his fucking act together or there’s going to be a problem. For some reason that doesn’t quite cut it with Jackie, who completely ignores him and continues to roll around, flailing his arms about and knocking over a standard lamp. By now he can’t speak at all, just makes gulping noises like he’s trying to swallow a pint of beer really quickly.

Stooge shines his torch in Jackie’s face and decides he really shouldn’t be that colour. I mean, he’s used to Jackie going through variegated stages of red when he’s upset or excited, but right now his skin colour is definitely moving towards the blue end of the spectrum. Stooge suddenly realises the whole thing’s no joke, and that something has gone badly wrong. He snatches up all the tools and moves them to the French windows. He half lifts, half drags Jackie’s bulk out through the garden to the car parked around the side of the house, almost slipping a disc in the process. He goes back for the tools, dumps them in the footwell, and takes off.

As he starts driving, a light comes on in the window of the house opposite. A middle aged woman wearing a quilted dressing gown and her hair in curlers is staring straight at him. She starts banging on her window and yelling for him to keep the noise down. Not wanting to get involved in a public debate, Stooge just puts his foot down and tears off, completely misjudging the width of the driveway and ripping out two or three rosebushes on the way.

A few minutes later they’re flying up the A307 towards London, it’s pretty early in the morning so there isn’t much traffic. Stooge is doing his impersonation of Michael Schumacher, only with roses stuck under his windscreen wipers. He has no real idea of what to do or where to go, it’s obvious he’s got to put some distance between him and the film director’s house, as well as sort Jackie out somehow. So heading back to London seems like a good idea.

Anyhow, he goes through this little village on the way, and sees a car coming towards him. The driver flashes his lights at Stooge, and because he’s not thinking straight, Stooge flashes his lights back. The other guy flashes again, and Stooge flashes back and adds Wanker! for good measure.

By the time they both draw level it’s all getting a bit silly, with Stooge winding his window down, shaking his fist at the other driver and making various comments about his ancestry. As they pass, Stooge sees the other vehicle is a police car, that promptly does a u-turn and comes hurtling up the road behind him, blue lights, everything.

Bollocks, says Stooge, and puts his foot down. Well, he’s got a bit of a head start, but the law are driving a police pursuit vehicle, and their drivers have special training, so it wasn’t long before the cop car loomed large in Stooge’s rear view mirror.

Going to prison was bad enough, but spending a large part of any jail time in the prison hospital was a definite no-brainer, so as soon as he gets to a straight bit of road Stooge signals left, and stops the car. Two cops get out and come up either side of his car, textbook style. Stooge suddenly thinks of the tools in the footwell, takes his jacket off, and covers them up. He sits there, trying to stay cool.

The cop sticks his head in the car. How fast do you think you were going back there?

Stooge screws his face up and tries to look like a law-abiding citizen thinking really hard. I don’t know, officer.

Well you were driving too fast. That’s why I flashed you, to get you to slow down.

Stooge starts to feel a bit silly. Just then, the other copper goes: What the f---------! Stooge turns round to see what he’s looking at, and there’s Jackie, squirming around on the back seat like Linda Blair in The Exorcist. It seems that in all the excitement Stooge has completely forgotten about his crime partner and his apparent health problems.

Quick as a flash, Stooge says: Oh, this is my boss. We were coming back from a sales conference when he was taken ill. I’m not sure what’s wrong with him, but I thought he’d better get to a hospital. That’s why we were going so fast.

The two coppers looked at each other and nodded. OK, the first one says, You’d better follow us. Stay close.

They dive back into their car, Stooge starts up, and they both take off, the police car all flashing lights and sirens, Stooge doing his Michael Schumacher. The upshot was that they got Jackie into a hospital in record time, whereby a terminally tired trainee doctor pronounced him to be suffering the consequences of an angina attack. Not a real problem, then. A few pills and a bit of rest.

Jackie didn’t come back to the club for over two weeks. When he did a few people commented on how well he looked. He was a lot more relaxed, and his clothes seemed to fit him better. Yeah. I’ve been to a health farm, he said, which was partially true, I suppose.

And then he got straight back to business, hawking these white towelling dressing gowns around the club. They weren’t bad for a tenner each, except that they had Property of Hillingdon Hospital stencilled across the hemline.

The Accident of the Century

By Duncan Belk

They weren’t supposed to be out this late on a Monday night, and they would catch hell from their Master if they were caught, but the lure of a card game in the alehouse with the other apprentices had persuaded them. They were almost at the end of Rood Lane when the attack came. A rock cracked Neal on the temple and one narrowly missed Jason’s shoulder. Seconds later they were surrounded by half a dozen street thugs.

‘Giz all your money ‘prentices, and don’t pretend you aint got none or we’ll stick yous ‘ere and rob yer corpses.’

Jason was reaching for his knife when Neal’s unsteady hand stopped him.

‘This isn’t one we can win Jase. Just hand over the winnings.’

‘I’m not giving these scraggy wee thieving bastards anything.’ Jason turned to the thug who’d spoken. ‘Just you and me pal, if you’ve got the balls for it?’ he challenged, slowly drawing his long, razor-sharp leatherworking knife.

‘You’ve got guts ‘prentice, I’ll give you that, but there’s six of us and barely two of yous.’ He nodded at Neal, who was trying to stem the flow of blood from the gash in his head. ‘Just hand over your money before things turn nasty on yous.’

Jason had grown up on the streets of Glasgow and reckoned he could take at least two of these southern brandy drinking pansies, but that would leave Neal undefended.

He was reaching into his jerkin for the coin purse when a larger group of thugs reeled out of a nearby alehouse and took an interest in the proceedings.

‘Well well well,’ said the spokesman for the newcomers. ‘It looks like you and your boys are a little off your turf tonight Jenks. Sephi won’t be pleased with you, especially after last week.’

Jenks seemed a lot less sure of himself now. ‘Maybe we had best be going then. We didn’t mean nothin’ by it Edders. We were just tailing these two and they crossed the boundary, that’s all.’

Jenks and his gang started to dissipate into the shadows of the side streets, but not before Jason had picked up the rock which had struck Neal and hurled it at Jenks. It caught him square in the side, producing a pained grunt. Jenks rounded on Jason.

‘Just you wait ‘prentice. We know where you bunk; and this lot, won’t be around to save you next time.’ He gestured at Edders’s gang.

‘I’ll look forward to it, as long as you’re there.’ Jason snapped back, but Jenks had melted into the night.

‘Thanks for your help there guys.’ Neal offered Edders’s gang. ‘We’d have probably been meat if yous hadn’t turned up.’

‘Nah, you’d probably just have been a little lighter for coin, if your friend had kept his calm anyway… Now, about that coin Jenks said you had. I think you might owe us some of it.’

‘You can have all you can win from us fair and square.’ Jason broke in angrily.

‘Or we could just take all of it by force?’

‘O come on!’ Neal interrupted, ‘Just give them my share Jase. If it wasn’t for them I’d have lost it anyway.’

‘You sure?’

‘Just give it to them!’

Jason counted out about a third of the coin from the pouch and reluctantly handed it over to Edders. It was more than he or Neal would make in a week from the sale of their wares.

With their prize for the night secured, Edders and his gang piled back into the alehouse, leaving Jason and Neal alone in the street once more.

‘S’pose we’d better get back before the Master finds we’re gone.’ Neal prompted. But Jason was still bitter about the loss.

‘S’pose! Do you know who those guys were?’

They started walking back to their Master’s house. ‘Kind of… The ones who saved us work for a gang leader called Sephi, she runs the Bridge Gang, and the others must have been the Tower Gang or something like that.’

Jason had only been an Apprentice in London for a few months, and was still trying to figure out the ways of life here.

‘If that Jenks was serious about knowing where we sleep, how do we stop him coming after us?’

‘You could ask the Master to put some iron bars on our window?’

‘That might work, but we cannae just cower ‘cause of one threat.’

‘We could join a rival gang? That way they might be dissuaded from coming after us.’

‘That sounds more like it. Whit’s the toughest gang ‘round here?’

‘Well, Sephi’s gang is the biggest because they run on both sides of the bridge.’

‘That’s just bloody typical! So, how d’we join a gang?’

‘I’m not sure. I don’t think it works like that. It’s not like you can ‘prentice to a gang. I think you have to be invited or something.’

‘D’you know where Sephi’s gang is based? Maybe we could just go ask them.’

‘I think they’ve got a place down by St. Magnus’s church, but I’m telling you, you can’t just turn up and ask. You’ll as likely get stabbed for your impertinence.’

‘Well, I’ll try and not get malkied then.’

The young men arrived at the back of their Master’s house, scrambled up the vines and roughly hewn beams to their roof window and slid into their room. It was a very small room to have to share, but the roof was sound and it had the warmth from the floors below, so it was a lot better than some of their associates had. The next day they explained Neal’s wound to their master by saying that they had been wrestling and that Neal had just taken a bad fall.

After their day’s labour in their Master’s workshop, Neal and Jason strolled down to St.Magnus’s church to see if they could spot what might be signs of the Bridge Street Gang. They saw lots of people coming and going, but it wasn’t until Neal spotted Edders coming out of a small side street that they realised they were in the right place.

When Edders was out of sight they filed into the narrow side street to look for the