A little of this and a bit more

Alan Crawford presents twisted short and some longer stories for adults, with quite a number of his rants and observations as well.

Several curious people, really it’s just one, asked me how or where the ideas came from. Thankfully there’s no clear answer. When the trousers, mind, or weather conditions suit such things, the computer opens, a page appears, and it starts to flow. See menu for the main Short Stories.


Arena Casino Four

Reading Time: 3 minutes

Different Angle

Unbeknownst to anyone else there were other eager beavers at work in Lincoln Point. They had eyes on the Arena Casino coffers. Indeed they looked at the robbery lark from a completely different angle. Up.

Lincoln Point Police had a range of apples and some were terribly bad. So bad in fact, that they ran a crew of tattoo identified comrades that ripped off baddies at their leisure. Not the luckiest baddies, as they were grabbed / kidnaped / robbed at the most inconvenient times. The Splice as they were called took their cut of anything they found out about. The Splice hated DCI Thomas and his crew with a vengeance. Thomas had very nearly nabbed them on their last kidnap attempt. He’d managed to foil the nab and stopped the grab. Empty handed the Splice sulked back into normal general duties and disguised their involvement. 

DCI Peter Thomas had a good idea as to who the Splice were and decided that the needed to reveal their hypocrisy and arrest everyone single one of them, no matter what rank they abused. Criminals are at least honest in their criminality, criminal Police are the lowest of low, they’re scum. The New Tattoo managed to keep their affairs out of the noses of the Splice. They inched forward in readiness for the tasks at hand. Malcom and Leo were as efficient as the Splice should have been in their real jobs. Although the New Tattoo would earn a hell of a lot more. 

Look Up

Philip McLaren had a different view on the Casino. He was an experienced miner with a streak of genius that developed a number of miraculous ideas in his spare time. He realised that if he could obtain detailed plans of the Arena Island, on and in which the Casino sat like a Sumo wrestler sitting in bath before lunch, he’d hit the mother load. He’d thought of a way to get very, very rich. He was a clever fucker.  He also gathered a group of likeminded, greedy individuals that could at face value and while working within specific layers, be trusted. He had one well worn offsider that knew the whole shebang. 

The Splice had heard that a massive robbery was soon to occur. They didn’t know the what, where, by who or how. They just knew sort of that it would happen. Sgt Dick Brown was the coordinator for the response of the Splice and had been harassing all of Lincoln Point’s criminal class looking for detail. The numpty that set him off on this trail was now dead. An overdose of such a mix of drugs that it was terribly suspicious. Not the overdose but the content and the injection point being the middle of his right eye. Not many seasoned junkies stabbed their eye to get high. Dick thought rather correctly that he’d been killed for bragging his complete lack of knowledge to the Police, corrupt or not, it’s just not done.

While the Splice were not doing their job to the best of their ability DCI Thomas and Constable Marianne Worthy were certainly doing theirs. They had just pulled into Gloryville proper when a call came through. Another body. Another body for them to respond to. interestingly this body wasn’t the work of Eugene. It was a message from Leo Spiza to those aware folk in Lincoln Point. Only the recipient of the message would understand be keenly aware and it was clear. The head and the left foot had been removed with the foot being rammed toe first down the gaping wound that would have held the head. 

Special K

Rupert K Asquith got the message. He packed up, transferred his emergency stash via EFT to his offshore accounts, grabbed his emergency bag and drove like a law abiding car thief to Mulltinacky some 600 kilometres down the highway. It had a small domestic airport which offered a flight to Darwin and then connected to an International flight to South East Asia. Long before anyone actually knew he was gone. He was never heard of again. He got the message. The headless man was a random homeless person that was asleep on the beach dune. No-one was able to identify him, sadly  no-one apparently missed him. Police had to mark the case unsolved, wth no leads, no forensics, no evidence at all. 

Eugene read about this murder and wondered who or what maybe have occurred. He decided to ramp up his careful preparation, so his work would not be overshadowed. He had to prevail after all.

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I'm an increasingly grumpy old fart posting rants, observations and trying to write somewhat twisted short and slightly longer stories for adults. All rights reserved unless otherwise credited © Alan Crawford - 2024

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