SAVAGE A BLOOD FEUD NOVEL

THURSDAY, 12:30 AM

AIGNÉIS COUNTY was a large working-class town up in Northwest England. It had become a tossed sal-ad of Scots- Irish and English protestants, Sub-Saharan immigrants and gypsies. The town was not without its problems: unemployment, gangs, drug abuse, and knife stabbings. Making things difficult was the cuts to the lo-cal police force that have been made due to the stagnant economy and slim coffers of the local government. It had only been a few months after The Great Recession, and it was mostly the working-class towns and cities in the north whose economies were suffering the side-effects of the slump.

Police officer Grant Savage was seated in his office when the phone rang. It was half an hour past twelve and Grant had spent the better part of the day out on pa-trol, hanging out with his friend, Gill at Gilligan’s, a local bar, and of course, fucking his mistress Isabella, a young transplant from Sicily.

He was in a good mood and had no reason to suspect he’d get the most unlikely of calls when he answered the phone.

“This is the office of Police Inspector Grant Savage,”

Grant said in his Scots-Irish dialect.

There was a crooked laugh at the other end of the line.

Grant was stunned for an instance and wondered why someone would do such a thing.

“Who is this I’m speaking to?” he asked loudly.

The man followed his laughter with a question, “How long has it been since your wife got off your dick?”

Grant was taken back. “What did you just say?” he asked. He had to have heard wrong.

The man on the other end of the line continued, “I was talking about your wife, Tanya. How long has it been since she’s gotten her tongue off your fucking dick, you worth-less piece of cunt!”

Grant was now pissed. “Listen you bastard, whoever you are, don’t you dare talk about my wife like that, you understand?” he snapped.

The man laughed hysterically. Grant couldn’t figure out who the bloke was. He slammed the phone down and took a big breather. He realized it was some cunt who was trying to mess with him and he had indeed succeeded. He turned in his chair and looked out the window.

Outside, the bright lights of the town lit up the quiet street. Up ahead was a small river that ran through the center of the Town of Aignéis County. The river at times would remind Grant of the famous rivers of Amsterdam and Paris.

Chief Clancy, Grant’s superior, inserted his head through the office door. “Is everything alright, Grant?” he asked.

Grant gave a weary smile, “I’m alright, sir. Just my daughter’s boyfriend. I had a bit of a fit with him. It’s al-right now.”

Chief Clancy nodded. “Well I hope so. Things haven’t been on the ups in your end. I’m leaving the office now with training officer Sarah Brannon. She’ll begin her first shift with you tomorrow. Make sure you’re here on time.”

There was the pinch of concern in his voice. Chief

Clancy was a heavyset man at fifty-two years of age and had thinning gray hair. He left Grant alone in his office.

Training officer Sarah Brannon was a young woman who Grant had only met a couple times before. She was fair looking but at first glance Grant didn’t like her, she was the type of eager cop who was desperate to make it at all means. What he did was to try to stay away from her and it didn’t work out since there were only seven officers in the entire squad besides Chief Clancy. Sarah Brannon would be the eighth addition.

Several minutes had gone by since the chief and train-ing officer left the station and Grant was still sitting at his desk, staring out the window. His arms were folded across his chest. Truth was he was still shaken over the call, he wondered who had the nerves to do such a thing. It had to be one of those stupid high school kids he thought.

The phone rang again, he turned around and answered the call. When he heard the annoying chuckle, he knew it was the same bastard who called a few minutes ago.

“How are you Grant?” the man asked.

Grant rolled his eyes. “What the fuck do you want?” he asked calmly.

“I want a lot from you. But first I know about Isabella,” the man said. “I know you’ve been shagging her.”

How the fuck did this bloke know about Isabella? Grant wondered panicking for an instant. He shook his head, he’d pretend he’s never heard of the woman.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Grant said laughingly.

“Oh, but I know you do Mr. Savage. As a matter of fact, very well,” the man said.

“What’s your name?” Grant asked. He needed to know who the hell he was talking to.

“You want to know my name, Mr. Savage?”

“Yeah you cunt, tell me your name,” Grant snapped, be-ginning to get pissed at the condensing tone of his caller.

“My name is Larry,” he answered.

“That’s a fucking queer of a name, eh Larry?” Grant sneered.

Larry didn’t take that too kindly. “Watch it pal,” he said. “I know you have a daughter who’s turning twenty in a couple months. Let me guess, her name is Jessica, right?” Grant was silent again. The fucker mentioned his wife, daughter’s and worst of all, his mistress name.

Grant started to get worried. At first he hoped it was just a silly game. Now he wasn’t sure if he knew the man Larry was someone gaining on him or not.

“I can prove to you that you are a fucking lying son of a bitch and a fucking wanker,” Larry said. “You want to know how, Mr. Savage?”

Grant kept silent. He was waiting to see what other bombshell Larry was going to drop.

5

Vincent Muambi

Larry sensed Grant’s waiting so he continued the con-versation. “Your lack of a response tells me you’ve kept your tongue in between your ball sacks and that I have the floor. Good, in that case I shall continue.”

Grant felt unease. Something about the man’s voice was unseemly. He shifted in his chair uncomfortably. He wondered if this Larry would go on for another few min-utes if not longer so he could find out where it was leading to. He wanted none of this but he couldn’t bring himself to hang up the phone.

“I arranged for a package to arrive at your desk yes-terday evening. I’m certain you were not in the station and I’m also certain that you did not check your mail this morning, am I right Mr. Savage?” Larry said.

Grant did not respond. He managed to keep his com-posure while pressing the phone receiver to his right ear.

Larry continued. “Go downstairs and check your of-fice mail. There should be a package waiting for you. I will call you back in about five minutes from the moment I hang up the phone. Go now.”

The phone line went dead. He was angry that the fuck-ing stranger felt he could command him but he still got up from his chair and grabbed his keys. He didn’t want to think that something bad could happen to his wife or daughter, not to mention his secret mistress Isabella.

Downstairs at the reception office Grant quickly opened the mail compartment. There was a large thin brown manila envelope. He noticed his named written on the envelope with a marker engraving. He grabbed the envelope, closed the compartment, and went back up-stairs to his office.

He sat down at his desk and looked down at the enve-lope. He was bloody afraid of the contents but he had to open it. With shaky hands, he tore open the envelope and gasped at the contents.

There were five black and white photographs of him with Isabella. They were not normal pictures of him with her at a café or in a public place but rather on a bed hav-ing sex. Grant now feared the worst. This Larry guy wasn’t bluffing. His palms felt sweaty as he picked the pictures up one by one, they clearly showed his face and that of Isabella. He was so screwed. He glanced at the phone wishing it could ring that instant. He however had to wait for a couple of minutes. He went through the line and cursed, he had been called with an unregistered number and there was no way he could track the line since they didn’t have any equipment of such stuff lying around. The phone rang and he answered it immediately. “You fucking idiot. What’s the meaning of this?” Grant yelled.

Larry roared with laughter. “That’s just the tip of the iceberg mate. We’ll deal with you and your whole family. First we want to make example of your precious Jessica. I can’t wait to shove my dick down her puny little throat.”

“You piece of shit,” growled Grant. “Don’t you dare speak of my daughter that way, you hear me?”

Grant slammed the phone down. Now he was mad as hell. He wanted to punch that fucker and slam his face against a brick wall. Grant was salivating at the thought of it. It took him all he could to prevent slamming his fist into the wall in rage.

He took a deep breath and quickly regained himself.

He remembered why he reacted the way he did in the first place. His anger would not get him far, he needed to know what the bastard wanted. The phone rang again. Grant sighed. He placed the photographs in his desk drawer be-fore leaving.

He glanced at his watch. It was almost one. He ar-ranged his things signing up for the day. Standing outside he felt tensed. A moment later he got into his car. His fin-gers were fidgeting. His eyes bounced around from one end to another as if he was looking out for someone.

He stared down at the envelope which he could not afford to keep in his office. He had to get some answers.

First, he had to get to Isabella then go back home later in the morning. It felt right. No way in hell this Larry fellow would hurt his family.

Grant was about to learn what would happen when you left your family in the back burner.

ISABELLA WAS NAKED. She lay on the bed widespread when Grant walked in. A smile spread on her face and she got up and approached him with a hug. The frown on his face however stopped her.

“What’s it darling? You look so worried,” she observed.

It wasn’t any of her business but when he was worried then she didn’t gain pleasure and that was something she greatly wanted.

Grant tossed the envelope at her and watched as her face went pale when she opened it and saw the contents.

“Who took this? How did you get this?” she asked.

“I should be asking you, this was taken right here,”

Grant said. He picked one of the pictures and calculated the spot where it had to be taken, above the fireplace. He was not surprised to find that there was no camera there, fucking bastard!

“I don’t know Grant, I would never do such a thing,”

Isabella said.

He stared at her intensely to see if she was lying but he could read her well, Isabella had no idea who was respon-sible which left him back in the beginning, clueless. “Who have you ushered into your house?” he asked.

Isabella’s face colored, “Well, they are too numerous to count.”

Of course, Grant muttered, he would be dumb to think he was the only one she was screwing around with. “Do you know a guy called Larry?”

She shook her head. “I don’t. Is he the one who sent the pictures?”

Grant sighed, he could already feel a headache ap-proaching. Isabella took him to the bed and her warm fin-gers surrounded his head. They massaged him gently and he sighed satisfied.

“Let me make your stress go away,” Isabella said as she slowly pulled Grant’s trousers down.

Grant untied his shirt and pushed it aside. Isabella rubbed her hands around his chest. She was slightly taller than Grant, pretty, olive-skinned, and smelled of French fragrance. He lifted her and threw her on the bed before he joined her and fucked her while she held on to him.

“Do you have something to drink?” Grant asked after a few minutes after they were done screwing.

They two lay on the bed which had no sheets or cov-ers. Isabella was now on top of Grant who had his arms around her waist.

“I don’t have anything,” Isabella said. “I’m sorry.” “How do you not have any drinks?” he asked an-noyed.

“I was out of town for the last few days. I just came back tonight and I didn’t think you’d be here.”

“That’s alright. I can go get something at my place.” “Alright, I’m sorry, babes.”

“No worries,” Grant said as he kissed Isabella on the top of her head.

He put back on his trousers, uniform and gun holster and left the apartment. Outside it had begun to rain. As Grant entered his car., he realized that he had almost forgotten about Larry. He sat in the car for a while won-dering why he had fucked his mistress even after seeing those pictures. But then Isabelle always took his mind off things, she always made him feel better. He stared at the house and wondered if this was the last time he was see-ing her. He shook his head, those pictures would not stop him!

He thought back to when he had first seen her. It was a year ago in a small candy shop. He had just worked a day shift and was on his way home when he stopped over at the shop to get something for Jessica. He was about to leave when he bumped into the beauty who was a few years older than his daughter and had asked her out for lunch the next day. The date had led to him banging her in her house later on. They had an agreement, she was always available for him when he needed her and he took care of her.

Grant felt there was nothing to worry about. The Lar-ry guy had gotten through to him but he was nothing to worry about. He was probably an older lad Jessica might have been seeing who was behind this or one of Isabella’s customers who felt that he was competition. It was also quite possible that Jessica wanted to get him hot under the collars - a scenario Grant thought was plausible. He laughed and shook his head, he would not let the little incident ruin his day.

IT WAS CLOSE TO TWO IN THE MORNING when Grant

entered the house. At first nothing seemed out of place. The living room and kitchen were exactly as Grant remembered them.

He slowly climbed the stairs. Hopefully both his wife and daughter were safe and asleep. There was no reason to believe they were in considerable danger.

As he approached the bedroom he and his wife were sharing, Grant froze. There were hand prints on the door knob. Grant’s trained eyes told him it was possibly blood. A cold sweat ran down his back. He quickly grabbed his pistol and crept towards the door.

“Tanya,” he shouted.

There was no reply. Grant grew worried. His fin-ger was on the trigger. The thought of Larry’s laughter ran through his mind. What had that bastard done? He thought worried. He took a piece of cloth from his side pocket then slowly turned the knob with it. With his pis-tol drawn, he entered the room.

He froze. The pistol fell out of his hand. His stomach turned at the sight of the severed human head. Grant covered his mouth with his hand. It wasn’t just a human head. It was Jessica, his daughter.

Grant sunk to his knees. He yelled at the top of his lungs, then broke down and cried. The shrill of his cries could be heard from the London Tower.

His hands repeatedly slammed the hardwood, anguish had taken over. He couldn’t get his eyes off the head. By the looks of it the head was severed by a clean cut and had been for a while, it was every pale.

He may have knelt there sobbing for what seemed like an hour when he managed to stagger up and went through another door. He grabbed a telephone in his of-fice room and dialed a number.

“I need you over here quickly,” he said hysterically. “Please, be here as soon as you can.”

Grant placed the phone back. The shock was over-whelming. His hands were trembling. What he had seen what still unbelievable. His only child had been murdered in a horrible manner.

The man he called over was his half-brother, Fraser. Fraser was a former coke dealer turned cop and was the correct definition of a hard man. He was someone Grant

had come to know and trust over the years.