DIVORCE BY MURDER - A Book in the Jack Delaney Chronicles E-Book

Terry Hayward

• Herausgeber: Abela Publishing
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Beschreibung

A South African crime boss institutes divorce proceedings against his wife who defends the action. Later, she is found shot dead in her apartment and the criminal husband charged with her murder. But have the police been too blinkered in their approach and too quick to conclude that the husband’s criminal connections automatically make him the killer? So starts a flying trip to New York by the notorious lawyer, Jack Delaney, to investigate the husband’s mafia connections followed by a trip to a 'Big 5' Game Reserve in South Africa to investigate his criminal connections in the highly illegal, but lucrative, rhino horn and elephant tusk trade. While this shows the husband to be a most unsavoury character, does it make him a wife murderer? Why would the husband have started divorce proceedings and then killed his wife? If murder was on his mind, would it have not been simpler and cleaner for the wife to take a long, long vacation -  mafia style? The murder trial starts and after many twists and turns, the evidence presented often leaves the reader to wonder if the husband was the actual killer or if he hired the killer and colluded with him. The 'grande finale' comes during the trial with the unmasking of the murderer.

Leseprobe

DIVORCE

BY

MURDER

By

Terry Hayward

Divorce by Murder

Copyright © 2014 Terry Hayward

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any manner in any media, or transmitted by any means whatsoever, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, or mechanical ( including photocopy, file or video recording, internet web sites, blogs, wikis, or any other information storage and retrieval system) without the prior written permission of the publisher or author.

Published in England

by

Abela Publishing Ltd.

Sandhurst, Berkshire, England

Email: [email protected]

Website: www.AbelaPublishing.com/TerryHayward.html

ISBN 13: 978-1-909302-53-2

First Edition, 2014

I will give them singleness of heart and action, so that they will always fear me and that all will then go well for them and for their children after them.

(Jeremiah 32:39)

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to:

God for giving me the talent to sit around and tell stories.

Rita, my wife, for encouraging me to start putting the stories on paper.

Chapter 1

The two tough looking men sat at a private table in the back of the La Strada Restaurant in down town New York where the fancy light hanging elegantly above their table had not only been dimmed, but actually disconnected so that they could sit together in semi darkness without any fear of being recognised by any of the restaurant’s other patrons. The lighting from the main body of the establishment provided sufficient light for the two to sit comfortably and conduct their business in relative secrecy.

This was a regular meeting-place for the Mafia hierarchy and although the two did not want to advertise their association, they were not prepared to actually hide from others and be branded as fearful or underhanded. One of the men was of a higher rank in the New York Mafia and he certainly had no desire to draw attention to his relationship with the more junior bodyguard and hit man, a man who was not considered important within the organisation. In fact, an enforcer would probably have been a far better description of the latter’s position within the mob. He was, however, part of the family and still very much respected, or feared, depending on ones standing within the mob so it paid not to be too harsh with the man.

Sitting in the booth as if they had not a care in the world, they were obviously at home in each other’s company as they shared a bottle of Italian Chianti and waited contentedly, if not completely relaxed, for their dinner orders to arrive. This was simply a business meeting and although neither was prone to small talk at the best of times, time was unimportant that evening.

“Now, while he’s out of town, is the perfect opportunity to collect together all of his paraphernalia which you’re going to need to set him up,” suggested the senior member, taking an appreciative sip of the wine. “Can you easily get back into the apartment and remove everything you need, without anyone being any the wiser or you raising any suspicions?”

“Yeah, not a problem,” confirmed the other, non-committally, glancing surreptitiously around the restaurant, before carefully taking a brown paper bag from the pocket of his coat, which was lying on the chair next to him and pushing it across the table towards his companion. “I’ve already removed the fat man’s gun and I’ll be going back into the apartment tonight to check one final time to see that there are no other items I might need.”

The leader ignored the parcel and replied somewhat abruptly, “Put it back in the safe. You’re not the only one with access to the safe. I’d hate someone else to look into the safe and notice the gun, of all things, is missing.”

“But you don’t have access so how will you get the thing out again without my help?” demanded the hit man somewhat surprised at the rejection.

“Simple. You’ll give me the combination for the safe and all necessary codes for the apartment before you leave. Then I’ll get it out myself. You can leave your keys to the apartment with me when you go and I’ll return them to where they belong. Or you can have a spare set made for me,” the first man explained.

“I suppose that could work,” the other man agreed, even if somewhat reluctantly.

“Good,” encouraged the boss, before picking up his wine glass and taking a moment to breathe in the bouquet before taking another sip of the red liquid. He rolled the full-bodied wine around in his mouth, sucking in a breath of air between his teeth to enhance the bouquet before swallowing appreciatively. “You make sure you plan ahead and get everything out that you’re going to need tonight. I can’t afford to have you seen going in and out of the apartment too often. That, in itself, might raise a few eyebrows.”

“Don’t you worry, I know what I’m doing” he was assured by the other man toying uncertainly with his, as yet, untouched glass of wine. “I hope that you know what you’re doing because if you’re seen around the apartment that will raise a few eyebrows and cause problems.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean? You think I lack the finesse to be careful?” the boss retorted angrily, eyeing the other man malevolently out of the corner of his eye. “What makes you think you are in a better position than me to judge the timing?”

“It’s not just the timing I’m worried about,” the second man replied condescendingly as he at last took a sip of wine, not so much for appreciation but to gain some time as he considered the best way to make his point without offending his superior. “Remember, that I’ve worked closely with the man for some years now and I don’t think he’s going to fall for this plot. To me it all appears to be just a little too obvious, and he’s not stupid. He’ll know he’s been set up.”

“In this particular instance it doesn’t matter if he works that out and realises he’s been set up,” exclaimed the boss with barely hidden amusement. “It doesn’t really matter what suspicions he has or how obvious the evidence against him is, as long as he doesn’t know what we’re up to right now, and as long as it all points to him. When he wakes up to what we’ve done, it’ll be too late.”

“I don’t know,” protested the second man doubtfully.

Standing just a few meters away from where the two gangsters sat, towards the entrance of the restaurant, stood two burly bodyguards dressed smartly in suits that failed dismally to hide either their muscle power or fire-power. Their job was simply to protect the boss whatever the cost to themselves and also to make sure that nobody, other than their waiter, approached their table so that they could chat freely. The boss needed absolute privacy to complete the finishing touches on his major take-over plan.

“Just trust me,” he arrogantly reassured the other man, so self important and sure of his own abilities. “Once the hit goes down, he can protest as much as he likes, the evidence against him will be too strong for anybody to take either his protestations or his suspicions seriously.”

“But what if the fuzz start digging into his life back here in the city? What if they take the apartment apart and find my fingerprints or yours for that matter? I don’t want anything to point to me,” he argued nervously.

“I’ll make sure I wipe down anything I touch while I’m in the apartment. The only fingerprints, other than his, they’ll find might well be yours but you have every right for them to be there, after all you work for the man. Just trust me that I’m no amateur and I know what I’m doing. You hang tough,” the boss ordered.

“They won’t find my fingerprints,” the hit man retorted, now very worried about the possibility of his fingerprints being found. “When I go back there tonight I’m going to wipe the whole place down. I don’t want anything to even suggest that I’ve been in the place.”

“Good idea,” the boss responded disinterestedly taking another sip of the Chianti. “Just be ultra careful and leave all the brain work to me. We’re going to get him locked up for life and take control of the whole organisation.”

Not failing to pick up on the insult, the hit man chose to ignore the barb and one last time he protested his misgivings; “I still don’t understand the necessity to take him out of play while he’s over there. You don’t even need the money he makes. Why can’t we just organise the hit when he gets back home?”

“Because, you dumdum, it will give us the perfect opportunity to frame him while he’s over there and where a third world police force won’t dig too deep. And for your information the money is not what it’s all about, it’s the prestige and power as well. Everyone must understand that I’m not to be trifled with,” hissed the leader giving the other man a dirty look.

When the hit man failed to respond, the boss continued, “We can’t afford to start a gang war here in the Big Apple, and by trapping him while he’s out of the city, we can send a very strong message to all concerned. There’s more to all of this than just taking over his business. We are making a take-over of the whole operation, not only his tiny kingdom. We are going to be in control and everyone better believe it. This is serving notice on not only your man but on a whole organisation. And murder is just the beginning!”

“Its all right for you,” protested the underling feebly. “You will be sitting here safe and sound, far away from the firing line and any possibility of ending up in a third world prison.”

“Look my man, you’re trying to over-think the whole operation,” replied the boss placatingly, realising that he’d really annoyed his companion. “Trust me and relax. I have as much to lose as you do and before you know it, it will all be over and he’ll be in jail.”

“He wants to get a divorce? Let’s see if we can help him out and save him some lawyer’s fees,” chuckled his companion nodding his head in agreement as he accepted his boss’ re-assurance.

“The most important thing at this time is that the evidence against the man must be irrefutable. I can’t afford for him to get off on a technicality and get back here to New York and make accusations against me by trying to get his business back,” the boss explained, before adding somewhat caustically, “It’s a great pity they don’t still have the death penalty for murder back in South Africa.”

Chapter 2

Being a lawyer is not all that glamorous. Many people mistakenly think it’s a fast-moving life of action, but it’s mostly pure drudgery!

Hollywood likes to make out that the practise of law is one great big romantic adventure, all about driving around in smart sports cars, dining at the best restaurants in town, and carefully tailing suspects surreptitiously as one prepares for that great big trial. Then at the vital moment during the trial when all seems lost, you tear the opposition’s key witness to pieces with your brilliant cross-examination and, having cleverly managed to get everyone onto the edge of their seats, you ask that one all-important question that will prove the State’s star witness to be a liar, and win your case dramatically. This great victory, in Hollywood at any rate, will be for you, only another stepping stone to fame and fortune as you revel in the unconcealed admiration of your fans and luxuriate in the unbridled jealousy of your colleagues.

If only that were true in real life!

The reality is that most lawyers are largely unknown outside their own immediate circle and will remain so, except to their own close friends and a few satisfied clients. And then, as most lawyers are husbands or wives, and parents, very few of them have the chance to drive around in European sports cars. They might well drive a nice posh Mercedes or BMW, but a sports car, no! By the time most lawyers can afford the sports car, they can’t afford both the car and the kids as well. But then life is full of hardships.

At this particular moment in my life I was involved in the dull and dreary side of being a lawyer, that of preparing for the prosecution of a murder and kidnapping trial which was soon to begin in the Durban High Court. While this might very well sound exciting, even romantic, it’s really a dreary plodding through paperwork, and then, even more paperwork.

The local South African mob boss had put a hit out on a child’s caregiver so that he could kidnap the child of one of his underlings who had recently been jailed for life. This crime was specifically designed to put pressure on the man and prevent him from doing a deal with the Attorney General by spilling the beans on the mob’s operations and earning a reduction in his sentence. The actual triggerman and kidnapper had been arrested together with his immediate boss, who was arrested as the accomplice.

Although I am a private practitioner it is not unheard of for the State to brief private practitioners to assist them in specialised matters. I had been retained by the State in this instance to assist the Deputy Attorney General in prosecuting the two accused, the mob boss and the hit man, because my partners and I had been personally instrumental in bringing them to book.

As always, the preparations for this trial were anything but glamorous, consisting mainly of reviewing witnesses’ statements and other similar drudgery. This aspect of trial preparation was very much the same whether you are working as the prosecution or defence team. So much for the wildly exciting lifestyle of an attorney!