Reckoning Point, стр. 1
RECKONING POINT
J.M Hewitt
© J.M. Hewitt 2019
J.M. Hewitt has asserted her rights under the Copyright, Design and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified as the author of this work.
First published in 2019 by Endeavour Media Ltd.
Table of Contents
Prologue
First Murder
1
ALEX
2
THE DOCTOR
3
ELIAN
4
LEV
5
ROLAND
6
ALEX
7
THE DOCTOR
8
ELIAN
9
LEV
10
ROLAND
11
ERIK FONS
12
ALEX
13
THE DOCTOR
14
ELIAN
15
LEV
16
ROLAND
17
ERIK FONS
18
ALEX
19
THE DOCTOR
20
ELIAN
21
SECOND MURDER
22
LEV
23
ROLAND
24
ALEX
25
THE DOCTOR
26
ERIK FONS
27
ELIAN
28
LEV
29
ROLAND
30
ALEX
31
NAOMI WILSON
32
THIRD MURDER
33
ERIK FONS & ALEX HARVEY
34
ELIAN
35
LEV
36
ROLAND
37
NAOMI WILSON and THE DOCTOR
38
ERIK FONS & ALEX HARVEY
39
ELIAN & LEV
40
NAOMI
41
ERIK FONS & ALEX HARVEY
42
ROLAND
43
ELIAN & THE DOCTOR
44
ERIK FONS & ALEX HARVEY
45
ELIAN & THE DOCTOR
46
ERIK FONS & ALEX HARVEY
47
LEV and ROLAND
48
ROLAND
49
ELIAN
50
ERIK FONS & ALEX HARVEY
51
FORTH MURDER
52
ELIAN
53
ERIK FONS & ALEX HARVEY
55
ELIAN AND THE DOCTOR
56
ROLAND
57
ERIK FONS AND ALEX HARVEY
58
ELIAN AND LEV
59
ROLAND
60
THE COLONEL
61
THE DOCTOR & LEV
62
ERIK FONS AND ALEX HARVEY
63
ROLAND
64
ELIAN, ALEX, LEV, THE DOCTOR and ERIK
65
THE COLONEL
66
ELIAN, LEV, BRAM, ALEX AND ERIK.
67
ELIAN, ALEX AND ERIK.
Prologue
First Murder
Near Doublestraat
3.7.15 Late at night
Four windows, four girls all in varying states of undress. He stands tall, arching back ever so slightly to get the best view.
Rita is in the first window and he knows that she can see him down here in the street. She smiles coyly, hooks a thumb in the ‘v’ of her underwear but he doesn’t see what her next trick is, his gaze has already moved on.
It’s not that he doesn’t like Rita, rather the fact that he has been with her several times recently and a lot of people have seen him. If Rita should suddenly become missing in action fingers might be pointed.
No, for what he needs to do tonight, it must be someone who is not known to him. There can be nothing to bring it back to his door.
Gabi Rossi hurries down the street, taking care that her spiked heels don’t get stuck in between the cobblestones. There’s a chill in the air, a cold front coming off the North Sea and she pulls her thin coat tighter around her and turns up the collar, thinking wistfully and not for the first time about Brazil, her home country.
The weather is the only thing that she misses about Bangu Rio. Here in Scheveningen, her home may be small and one that she shares with four other girls, but it is a palace compared to the favela where she was raised in a steel shanty shack.
And it’s safe here in Holland. And just as she is musing on the fact that she’s not known even a hint of trouble in the three months she has been here, she hears a rough footstep on the road behind her and what sounds like the chink of a chain.
She stops walking and looks behind her down the deserted alleyway. A damp mist has rolled in from the coast and she squints into the gloom. There, a hundred yards away, there’s definitely someone standing next to a dumpster. He is unmoving and seemingly looking towards her, silent and still. And the whole scene seems strange, because this is a happy place. Even in her job when some of the punters want something unusual or bordering on the perverted, it’s never sinister. On the other hand, some of her punters might be timid, unable or unwilling to voice their desires. But this guy, he’s neither exuberant nor shy. He’s just standing, staring her down, observing.
Carefully, not making any sudden movements, she slips her feet out of her shoes. The cold cobbles draw a gasp from her and she backs up a couple of steps. He still hasn’t moved, but now he takes his hand out of his pocket, drawing out a length of chain, presenting it to her, holding it as though it is a fine wine.
“Filho da puta,” Gabi swears in a whisper and after a beat, she turns and runs, leaving her shoes right where she slipped them off.
Lev leaves the slightly more upper class area of Geleenstraat and heads over towards Doublestraat. He stops under a bridge, pausing to light a cigarette when he hears the slap of bare soles on the street behind him.
The girl runs into him and when he reaches out a hand to steady her she smacks it away with a scream.
“Hey, lady–” he begins and is taken aback when she does an about-turn, leaps towards him, almost into his arms.
She clings to him, sobbing into his coat.
“There was a man. I left my shoes …” is all she can manage to say.
Lev glances back the way she came and can see nobody in sight. “You really shouldn’t be walking out here on your own,” he says.
She seems to make a quick recovery, pushing him away from her and looking up at him with a sneer.
“You think I can’t take care of myself?”
Well, no, he thinks. Or you wouldn’t be crying into my coat. But he doesn’t say it.
“As you were then,” he says, holding out his hand in a gesture that says ‘after you’.
With a final glare at him she walks away, treading gingerly over the cobbles.
He looks around once more, noting that this area between the