Scooter of Death

By Anthony Padgett

In the seaside town of Brighton, twin brothers Danny and Mikey are known for their love of Lambrettas, their passion for dancing to Ska and Northern Soul, and their shady insurance fraud scheme. They crash heavily insured scooters, which they claim are wrecks, and then burn them for profit. But when one of their accidents goes terribly wrong, they find themselves in a world of trouble.

It all starts with a skirmish on the dance-floor at a Northern Soul event. The brothers start a fight, which leads to someone firebombing their scooter shop. Inside the shop were the rotten old frames of many Lambrettas that needed restoring, each valued at £5,000 despite being worth only £100. It soon becomes clear that the firebombing was an insurance fraud, and Danny is the prime suspect.

This novella was written by artist, dancer and scooterist Anthony Padgett - with the help of Artificial Intelligence, the cover was designed with A.I.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jun 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9781447594086

Book preview

SCOOTER

OF

DEATH

By Anthony D Padgett

& Ghost (In The Machine) Writer

Published by

Ghost In The Machine Writer

First Published 2023

Copyright Anthony D Padgett 2023

CHAPTER 1

The sun dipped low over Brighton's pebbled shoreline, casting a golden glow onto the bustling promenade. Seagulls squawked overhead as they circled around the fish and chip shops that stood side by side, their sharp cries mingling with the laughter of children darting between parents' legs. The salty tang of the sea mixed with the smell of vinegar-soaked chips in the air, creating an unmistakable atmosphere unique to this coastal town.

Danny and Mikey leaned against the railing, gazing out at the horizon where the sky met the ocean. Both in their early twenties, the twins were almost identical in appearance: tall, with dark hair slicked back in matching quiffs and bright blue eyes that reflected the mischievous glint they each possessed. They wore tailored suits, a sign of their love for the Mod subculture which had taken root in Brighton decades ago.

Beautiful evening, isn't it? Danny remarked, his voice hinting at a charming cockiness that seemed to come naturally to him. He was always looking for ways to make a quick buck and could talk his way into or out of any situation. It was this resourcefulness that had led them down some risky paths, but also what had protected them so far.

Can't beat a Brighton sunset, Mikey agreed, his tone more subdued than his twin's. He was the more level-headed of the two, often keeping Danny grounded when his ambitions threatened to spiral out of control. Though he shared his brother's love for scooters and dancing, Mikey struggled with the weight of their actions and the guilt that came with them.

Shall we head to the club? I heard there's a new DJ spinning Ska and Northern Soul tonight, Danny suggested, patting the seat of his Lambretta scooter fondly. The brothers were known for their impressive collection of vintage scooters, and their passion for riding them was evident in the care they took to keep them in pristine condition.

Sounds like a plan, Mikey replied, his eyes lighting up at the thought of a night spent dancing away their troubles. The brothers were regulars at local clubs, where they would lose themselves in the music and forget, if only for a few hours, the dangerous path they had chosen.

As Danny revved the engine of his Lambretta, the sound echoed along the promenade, drawing curious glances from passers-by. They admired the sleek lines and polished chrome of the scooters, a testament to the twins' dedication to their hobby. With a nod to each other, the brothers kicked off from the curb and sped toward the pulsing heart of Brighton's nightlife, eager for another evening filled with music, laughter, and dance.

Nestled between a second-hand bookshop and a fragrant Italian bakery, the brothers' scooter shop was a hidden gem in the heart of Brighton. The modest storefront, adorned with hand-painted signs and intricate window displays, reflected Danny and Mikey's passion for all things vintage. Inside, the shop was an organized chaos of scooters in varying stages of restoration - some gleaming like new, others waiting patiently for a breath of life.

Oi, Mikey, Danny called out, his voice barely audible over the hum of a sander. Hand me the wrench, will ya?

Sure thing, Mikey replied, passing the tool to his brother as he wiped the sweat from his brow. Their hands, stained with grease and dirt, were a testament to the hours they spent restoring vintage Lambrettas and Vespas to their former glory.

Another one almost ready for the showroom, Danny grinned, admiring their latest project. This beauty will fetch a pretty penny.

Mikey nodded, though his thoughts were elsewhere. As much as he loved working on the scooters, the thrill of riding them paled in comparison to their dangerous side hustle: insurance fraud.

Hey, Danny, Mikey began cautiously, about that...thing we've been doing. You know, with the scooters.

Ah, our little insurance scheme, Danny smirked, wiping his hands on a rag. What about it?

Are you sure it's worth the risk? Mikey asked, his eyes darting around the shop. I mean, what if we get caught?

Relax, bro, Danny reassured him. We've got it all figured out. We find a nice, secluded spot, crash one of these insured beauties, and claim it was wrecked beyond repair. Easy money.

Right, Mikey sighed, not entirely convinced. But what if someone sees us? Or the insurance company gets suspicious?

Mikey, we've been doing this for months and haven't had any issues, Danny argued. We're careful, and besides, who'd suspect a couple of scooter enthusiasts like us?

Despite his brother's reassurances, Mikey couldn't shake the nagging feeling that their luck would run out eventually. He stared at the rows of pristine scooters, each one a testament to their craftsmanship and passion, each one listed with a frame number then substituted with an old wreck of that frame number, which was then burned out. He wondered if it was all worth risking for a few extra quid.

Look, Danny said, placing a hand on Mikey's shoulder, I get that you're worried, but trust me – we know what we're doing. Besides, we need the money to keep this place going.

Alright, Mikey conceded, forcing a smile as he picked up his tools again. Let's just make sure we're extra careful next time, okay?

Deal, Danny agreed, clapping his brother on the back before returning to work on the scooter before him.

In the safety of their shop, surrounded by the smell of oil and the familiar hum of machinery, the brothers continued their dance with danger, each crash sending tremors through the foundations of their lives. And as they worked side by side, the weight of their secret pressed heavily against Mikey's chest, threatening to shatter their fragile world.

By the time night fell, Danny and Mikey were ready to dispose of the evidence from their latest scheme. The air had grown cooler, and the scent of saltwater carried on the breeze as they made their way to a secluded spot on Brighton's pebbled beach, far from prying eyes.

Remember to toss the petrol canister when we're done, Mikey reminded Danny, his breath visible in the chilly air.

Of course, Danny replied, the canister already in hand, his eyes scanning their surroundings for any unwanted spectators.

Working swiftly and efficiently, they doused the wrecked scooter with petrol, ensuring every nook and cranny was soaked. The brothers understood that, to successfully burn the scooters, they'd need enough fuel to turn them into unrecognizable piles of scorched metal. They then stood back, igniting the petrol-soaked rag Mikey held with a lighter.

Here goes nothing, Mikey whispered before tossing the flaming rag onto the drenched scooter.

The wreck erupted into a fiery blaze, sending waves of heat towards the brothers. They watched as the once-beautiful machine was consumed by the flames, its vibrant paint melting away into blackened ash.

Another one bites the dust, Danny muttered, his face illuminated by the dancing fire.

As the scooter burned, Mikey's thoughts drifted to their close friends Lisa and Rosie. Lisa, with her bright blue eyes and infectious laugh, had been drawn to the brothers' charisma and energy. Her fiery red hair matched her equally spirited personality, and she was always eager to join them on their Lambretta adventures.

Rosie, on the other hand, was the yin to Lisa's yang. With her shoulder-length dark brown hair and warm hazel eyes, she exuded an air of calmness that seemed to balance out the wild energy of her best friend. Rosie had a knack for photography, often capturing the essence of their scooter rallies and dance events with a single click of her camera.

Hey, Mikey, Danny said, snapping him out of his reverie. You all right?

Yeah, just thinking about Lisa and Rosie, he confessed, staring at the dying embers before them. I'm worried about what would happen if they ever found out.

Let's make sure they never do, Danny replied determinedly, clapping a hand on Mikey's shoulder as they walked away from the smouldering remains of yet another victim of their insurance fraud scheme.

As they left the beach, Mikey couldn't help but agree with his brother. Keeping their secret was paramount – not just for themselves, but for those they cared about. And so, they continued to walk the tightrope of deception, praying that the fragile threads holding their world together wouldn't snap under the weight of their lies.

The sun was just beginning to set over Brighton, casting a golden glow on the bustling crowd of scooter enthusiasts gathered at the pier. The annual Mod Weekender had started, and it was the perfect opportunity for Danny and Mikey to showcase their meticulously restored Lambrettas. As they cruised down Madeira Drive in tandem, the brothers couldn't help but feel invincible, the wind whipping through their hair and the infectious rhythm of Ska blasting from their scooters' speakers.

Oi, Danny, look who's here! Mikey yelled over the music, pointing towards Lisa and Rosie as they waved excitedly from the side-lines. With a grin, Danny revved his engine and pulled over, making room for their friends