Val Mcdermid Attacked by ink pot wielding lady
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Tag Archives: criminality
Anyone Fancy Writing this?
While browsing gumtree.co.uk I came across the below intriguing advertisement
“A smart and attractive girl is needed to help a private detective in his investigation, a good remuneration in return.”
What a great basis for a short story or a novel. Imagine the possibilities. A private detective wishes to investigate the affairs of a criminal who is known for his cunning and suspicion of anyone who is not part of his own tight knit fraternity. He does, however have one weakness, a liking for attractive intelligent women. The detective finds his girl who manages to seduce the criminal mastermind and communicate his secrets to her employer. Alternatively the young lady falls in love with the criminal and they disappear into the sunset together leaving the detective high and dry!
What wonderful material for a writer to get his or her teeth into!
An Act of Madness Part 4
Below is Part 4 of my story, An Act of Madness. For Part 3 please visit http://newauthoronline.com/2013/06/02/an-act-of-madness-part-3/.
Ian felt that sense of forboding which often afflicts one before the breaking of a powerful thunder storm. He craved yet feared the coming of the thunder and lightening. His temples throbbed and he needed release but how and when that deliverance would come Ian did not know but the thought of it thrilled and scared him half to death in equal measure.
The pent up sexual frustration churned around inside Ian struggling to get out. He became careless. Ian had long regarded Anna, the teenage daughter of the Browns who ran his local news agents as material for his fantasising about teen girls. At 14 Anna was tall, slim and blonde. She stood not quite on the cusp of womanhood and this state of becoming drove Ian wild with desire.
One morning as Anna pushed The Guardian through his letter box Ian, to her great surprise opened the door.
“Morning Anna. It is a beautiful sunny day. You must be hot, would you like to come in for a drink?”
It was indeed a baking hot summer’s day and Anna hesitated before answering
“No thanks Mr Right. I have water with me but thanks for asking”, then with a smile and a waive Anna turned and headed for the next flat.
Once the door closed Ian stood shaking uncontrollably in the hallway. He knew that had Anna accepted his invitation to come in and have a drink that he would have offered her the £50 he had in his wallet for sex. Had he done that Ian knew that Anna’s reaction would, almost certainly have been to run straight home and report
“that filthy pervert from number 5) to her parents. The police and possible imprisonment would have been the almost inevitable result.
“Thank Christ that she didn’t come in” Ian muttered.
It would, he thought be far safer to call Tom who could provide a young girl to cater to his needs with minimum risk of discovery. If he didn’t call Tom then Ian knew that sooner or later he would do something which would lead to him getting caught.
Ian wondered whether the number he had for Tom would still work. He guessed that people like Tom changed their numbers and location frequently to keep one step ahead of the authorities. It had been almost six weeks since he had visited that hovel in Brixton so it was quite possible that Tom (or whatever his real name was) would have long since moved on. There was only one way to find out. With a trembling hand Ian picked up his mobile and located Tom in his contacts. His finger froze on the call buttond. It was so easy to make that call and so simple to delete the number. Yes he would delete the number and seek counselling for his addiction. Obviously he wouldn’t tell his counsellor that he had sexually abused a child (they would be obliged to inform the police). He would, however confess to a liking for young girls and do whatever was necessary to co-operate with the counsellor in tackling his perversion. But no, he was beyond redemption. Once a paedophile always a paedophile. Slowly, almost imperceptibly Ian’s finger pressed down on the call button.
“Yeah?”
“Is that Tom?”
“Yeah”
“Its Ian not sure if you remember?”
“I thought that you had forgotten old Tom! I’ve something very special for you. Two girls, one you saw before, Lisa and the other, Angel. Angel’s petite and black. Real cute. You’ll like her. I like you man. You can have both girls for £600”.
Ian’s hand was trembling so much that he almost dropped the mobile.
“Are you there man?”
“Yeah”
“Wanna come over?”
“OK, is it the same place?”
“Yeah, see you in half an hour?”
“No, say an hour”
“OK man, see you then. You will love Angel, Tom don’t provide no rubbish”.
—
Ian sat on the top deck of the bus as it wended it’s way towards Brixton. Looking out of the window he saw a park full of bright flowers. The reds, purples and whites combined to make a magnificent floral display. Someone rang the bell. Ian half rose from his seat,he was tempted to get off the bus, forget about Tom and spend the day walking in beautiful parkland. His groin twitched at the prospect of the two young girls Tom had waiting for him. With a wistful look back at the now receeding park Ian returned to his seat.
An Act of Madness (part 1)
He awoke to a thousand little imps banging their tiny hammers inside his skull. Tentatively he opened his eyes. The battered old chair on which he had flung his clothes the previous evening with such wild abandon swam into view. Cans of beer some still half full littered the threadbare carpet but it was the scent of sex, cheap perfume mixed with the sickly odour of rutting animals which made him lean over the side of the bed and vomit onto the filthy brown carpet.
The act of vomiting made him feel a little better. Slowly his mind cleared. He focused on the girl lying beside him. She lay her head resting on the filthy pillow, her right arm clutching a battered old teddy bear. The bear had been brown long ago but the years had turned it almost black. The sheet had fallen away leaving the girl’s body exposed. Her almost hairless vagina and barely formed breasts showed that she was in her early teens, 13 or 14 but no older.
“Christ what have I done?” the man said.
His words spoken out loud made the girl open her beautiful blue eyes.
“Please, please mister don’t hurt me again” she said clutching the bear protectively against her.
“I’m sorry” he mumbled attempting to put his arm around her in what was, he hoped a comforting manner.
“Please, no more” she pleaded her eyes swimming with tears.
Without another word the man got out of bed and flung on his clothes. As he reached the bedroom door he looked back one final time at the girl. She lay her head buried in that bear her shoulders shaking convulsively with deep sobs.
The man descended the rickety uncarpeted staircase, his feet seemed unnaturally loud to him in this silent place.
“God I need to get out” the man muttered as he descended the final stair.
“Enjoy yourself did you man?”
The man’s heart leapt into his mouth. He haden’t seen the Jamaican standing, in the shadows at the bottom of the stairwell.
“Little cutie isn’t she. Just turned 13. I told you that Jo could find you fresh young meat. I didn’t lie to you”.
“No she was lovely” the man said. He wished the Jamaican would step out of the way of the front door so that he could get the hell out of that stinking flea pit.
“OK man, remember Tom and the next time you want some fun give me a call”.
The man nodded and Tom stepped out of the way allowing him to open the front door and leave.
Book Review: Pimp: The Story of My Life By Iceberg Slim
A couple of weeks ago I was browsing the Kindle store when I came across Iceberg Slim’s biography, Pimp: The Story of My Life (see http://www.amazon.co.uk/Pimp-The-Story-Life-ebook/dp/B005GK7LPG) which tells the story of how the author became one of America’s most notorious pimps. Slim ppulls no punches. The book is a no holes barred account of how Iceberg entered pimping, the people he met and of how he controlled his girls. I flinched as I read how Slim punished his first working girl, Joyce by whipping her with a wire coat hanger. The whipping had (from Slim’s perspective) the desired result as Joyce returned to the streets to sell her body.
Slim was brought up during the era of racial segregation which had a profound effect on his view of the world. As a young black man Slim saw pimping as being one of the few opportunities open to him to become rich. His mentor, Sweet Jones hates white people as a result of his father having been murdered by a white lynch mob and his mother having been raped by the same mob. Sweet tells Slim that black pimps where the early heroes who turned the tables on their former slave masters by becoming prosperous in pimping. It is ironic that Sweet and Slim fail to see that they themselves are slave owners of a kind and are perpetuating the practices of the former plantation owners (it is Sweet who recommends to Slim he keeps his girls in line by the use of practices including whipping with coat hangers). The slave holders of yester year would, no doubt have been proud of them!
As a child Slim’s mother has relationships with a number of unsuitable men including with Slim’s father who, at one point throws the child against the wall. The exception to this rule is the gentle Henry who dotes on both Slim and his mother. However Slim’s mother leaves Henry for another man, had she stayed with Henry who Slim clearly adores it is very possible that I wouldn’t have read Pimp as the author wouldn’t have entered the world of pimping.
On reading Pimp one wonders why the women Slim controlled put up with their treatment at the hands of Iceberg. Fear goes some way to explaining it, however this is not the only explanation. Working on the streets and frequently unobserved by Slim his ladies had many opportunities to escape. One or two of them did but many others did not. Ironically a number of the girls “loved” Slim and convinced themselves that their feelings where reciprocated which explains why they remained with him. In particular one girl sends Slim money while he is in prison (she could have stolen it but chose instead to sell his car, on Slim’s instructions and send the cash to him).
In the end it is the fear of dying in prison rather than any moral revulsion which leads Slim to exit pimping. There is, so far as I can see no wholehearted moral rejection of his former life but I haven’t read any of the interviews which he gave subsequently so perhaps I am wrong on that point.
If you want a comfortable bedtime read then Pimp by Iceberg Slim is not for you. However if you want to try and understand why a man might enter the world of pimping then this book makes a fascinating read.
Samantha by Kevin Morris – Liverpool and forced prostitution
My forthcoming novel, Samantha is set in the city of Liverpool and tells the story of a young girl, Samantha who is forced into prostitution by her brutal pimp Barry.
Having been born and brought up in the city of Liverpool I can vouch for the fact that Liverpudlians are a warm and friendly lot. Unlike London and other large cities the inhabitants of Liverpool say good morning to strangers a trait which raises eyebrows among visitors who are unfamiliar with the people of the North-West of England. However Samantha is not about the warmth and generosity of the people of Liverpool, it deals with the brutal reality of a young woman compelled to work as a prostitute in that city.
Can Samantha escape the world of sex slavery or will she end her life in the cold and murky waters of Liverpool’s Albert Dock? Perhaps her love for Peter (a teacher she meets in a night club) will save her, perhaps not.
Currently Samantha exists in partial draft form on my blog (http://newauthoronline.com/2013/02/02/samantha-part-12/). Once completed Samantha will be published as an ebook and, possibly in good old fashioned hard copy as well! For part 12 of Samantha which links back to previous chapters please visit the above link.
K Morris - Poet 