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DC Tim Shelley is on a mission to find Len Moscow and avenge his daughter's death. Meanwhile, her twin sister, Sonny, is trailing the man who made the murder possible: her ex-mafia colleague Mario Fontana.
After a meeting in Amsterdam, Shelley joins forces with Bertolt in order to find the killer. Anastacia Smirnoff also has her part to play, as each of them makes their way toward the inevitable confrontation.
Old debts will be paid, and sacrifices made, as the Warrington saga ends where it began: in Milan. But who will have the last laugh, and who will win the war?
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022
1. Introduction
2. Shelley
3. Sonny
4. The Don
5. Luca
6. Mario
7. Shelley
8. Matteo
9. Sonny
10. Luca
11. Reinhold
12. Shelley
13. Anastacia
14. Maria
15. Sonny
16. Luca
17. Mario
18. Anastacia
19. Shelley
20. Maria
21. Mario
22. Sonny
23. Shelley
24. Anastacia
25. Final
About the Author
Copyright (C) 2022 Isobel Wycherley
Layout design and Copyright (C) 2022 by Next Chapter
Published 2022 by Next Chapter
Edited by Lorna Read
Cover art by CoverMint
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author’s permission.
Dedicated to Mum & Dad
“Revenge is a dish that tastes best when served cold.”
Don Vito Corleone, The Godfather.
For months now, various Mafia families have been filling our streets with blood. Dubbed World War III, England has been the nucleus for the violent attacks, with billions of pounds-worth of damage being made in the last few weeks.
But at last, families can rest easy tonight knowing that the biggest threat from the Mafia families has been exterminated by our faultless police force. It took months, but one by one, officers picked off the foreign invaders that destroyed our livelihoods.
However, the whereabouts of a handful of Mafia members are unaccounted for, so the force asks for our continued diligence and surveillance of each other; they could be among us.
Baulsack Mafia – DECEASED AND DETAINED
Genghis Li – DECEASED
Anastacia Smirnoff – UNKNOWN
Rasmus Rasmusson – DETAINED
Leon Larsen – DECEASED
Maximus Torrio – DECEASED
Elyasaf Narkis – UNKNOWN
Dobromil Watchoutski – DECEASED
Van De Jaager Mafia – DECEASED
Dionysius Moralis – DECEASED
Paddy Quinn – DECEASED
Gyp Caruso – UNKNOWN
Brock Chadman – DETAINED
Fontana Mafia – UNKNOWN
It’s been fifty-seven days since the killer got away. I’ve thought of nothing else since. Not even the breakdown of my marriage, nor being fired from the Met.
The walls of my lonely apartment are papered with documents, clues, pictures of the suspect. I’ve been chasing a new lead, someone spotted him in Amsterdam last week, but there’s been hundreds of so-called eyewitnesses. I’ve been all over the globe chasing their testimonies and nothing has ever been revealed.
Suspect spotted in casino, Vegas – nothing.
Suspect spotted in Colosseum, Rome – nothing.
Suspect spotted in gorilla cage, Victoria – nothing. Though there wouldn’t be.
But I can’t give up.
Rushing to my computer, I book a ticket to Amsterdam, leaving tomorrow.
Returning to my police radio, hidden in the spare room, I do what I always do every day, simply sit and listen. It’s the only talking I hear these days. Never get many visitors. Apart from Reinhold occasionally, but mainly to tell me to let things go, enjoy a peaceful “retirement”.
Who does he think he’s kidding?The only thing that can stop me caring about this case is a bullet to the head.
A couple of steady knocks at the door interrupt my thoughts. I switch the radio off and cover it with the dish cloth. As I walk through the quiet hallway, the papers on the walls rustle behind me, putting me on edge. I stare at the door behind the safety of the wall. I can see a dark figure through the frosted glass. Swallowing hard, I approach the door.
With my neck pinched in like the wary turtle I am, I open the door slowly, peeking around before it’s fully open.
“Hi, Dad,” Sonny almost whispers.
I straighten up in surprise. “Sonya, how great to see you! Come in, come in.” She looks much older than she did the last time I saw her. Don’t we both.
She smiles slightly and steps inside, already frowning at all the evidence mounting up on the walls.
“Still looking for him then?” she asks.
“I won’t stop until I find him,” I reply, closing the front door gently.
I lead Sonny into the living room. “Would you like a drink?”
“No thanks, Dad. I’m only here for a quick visit, I have something to tell you.”
I quickly take a seat on the couch in front of her. “What is it?”
“I’m… going to Italy.”
I stare at her, waiting for the rest, but she stays silent. “Oh… that’ll be nice, make sure you send me a postcard.”
She looks at her feet. “It’s not a holiday.” She elaborates this time. “Me, Luca and Stefano are going to find Mario.” She looks at me again now. “To kill him.”
“No, no, no, no, no.” I begin pacing the room. “Look what happened to your sister when you got involved with those people!”
“It was Len that killed Al, but Mario is responsible for that.”
“I am responsible for that!” I don’t know how, but suddenly I am in floods of tears, finally allowing myself to break down.
Sonny wraps her arms around my shoulders. “It wasn’t your fault, Dad.” Her voice quivers.
“I should never have sent her into that place.”
We have had this conversation numerous times, there’s no convincing me otherwise. I took her out of a dangerous situation and threw her straight into another one. What kind of father does that? If it wasn’t for me, Sonya’s sister, Alice, wouldn’t be dead, she’d be starting the beginning of her career. I wonder what her profession would be. Stunt woman? Olympian? She’d always wanted to be an interpreter, but I told her to reach higher. She was too clever to recite other people’s words, too original.
“You can fight me all you want on this, Dad. I’m going, and I’m gonna kill him, he deserves it. You know this feeling,” she tells me, pointing my eyes towards the paper-scattered walls. “I’m not gonna stop until it’s over.”
After a while, I nod, my bottom lip quivering. “Okay,” I whisper, “but be careful.”
“You too.”
She pulls me up off the floor, and I walk her through the hallway, towards the front door again.
“Are you any closer to finding him?” she asks me.
My bottom teeth grip onto my lip. “I’ve got a new lead in Amsterdam, I’m flying tomorrow.”
“Good luck.” She smiles, placing her hand on my shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze.
“You too.” We look at each other with the recognition of pain.
I open the door for her, and she steps out onto the shared landing outside in the breezy Manchester air,
“She wouldn’t be happy with us living like this. That’s why it needs to end.”
I agree, silently.
“I’ll speak to you soon, I love you,” she says as she turns to leave.
“I love you too, darling.”
I slowly shut the door on myself, unsure of how to feel about the interaction. She’s so grown up now, she reminds me of my younger self, ambitious and determined.
Part of me doesn’t want to dig into this part of her life, we hardly discussed the Mafia since. But I do wonder where Sonny’s quest started.