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Extract One: The Empire Of The Dragon
In the alleyway behind the biggest warehouse on Wilbraham Street, a dark van with a dark purpose came to a sudden, silent halt. The driver got out and placed his cargo in the middle of the alley, carefully recreating the picture he had been memorising over the last hour's drive. He got back into his van and drove as fast as the old van could go. The sun was rising fast in the Empire of The Dragon.
In the light of dawn, on a chilly Monday morning, the detectives of Green Lane Police Station had gathered around the crime scene. The glass seemed to flow into the road, now devoid of traffic. DCI Alan Turner took the first tentative steps towards the, now exposed, interior of the “wholesalers of the finest quality ingredients, fresh from home”, declared the once magnificent sign. The owner, Leo Wong, had been rushed to hospital with serious head injuries and internal bleeding. As he was their key witness, DI Josephine Castor had accompanied him in the ambulance. Now that the SOCO team were packing up, DCI Turner was given the breakdown by David Walsh, the leader of the Scene of Crime team.
“It was no ordinary break-in, for one. For two, a large, possibly red, van barged its way through the plate glass window.” He held up a shard of glass, showing the red edge of possible paint transfer. “See over here, tyre tracks. We took detailed pictures and will be analysing them later today. And over here...”
While they took a quick tour of the site, DI Johnson was giving the team tasks. In pairs, some were sent off to take any witness statement they could, while the remaining few were sent back to the station to see if there were any previous reports of trouble in the area.
“We'll have a briefing when we're finished here.” He said, dismissing them as if he were in charge. He wasn't. Alan had been watching him carefully, hopping he'd piss off, but no such luck: he was coming over. Alan saw him and took this as an opportunity to send him back to the station.
“Johnson! Watch where you're going! What do you want?”
“Oh, sorry sir. I split the team, half on statements, half to return to the station and dig around. Why? Is something wrong sir?”
Yes, thought Alan to himself, something is very wrong. However, out loud he used a different tactic.
“Johnson, go back and dig out the last six months worth of robberies in the area. Go through them with a fine tooth comb. We may have a repeat offender.”
“Yes sir!” And with that, the soppy sod was gone. Of course Alan had no way to know if it was a repeat offender, but he had to stop Johnson from taking over and what better way than to get him buried in paperwork?
Back in his office, Turner was at his desk, staring at the computer screen, hoping it would answer his questions. Needless to say, it didn't. Jo knocked at his door to say she was back form the hospital. The victim would pull through, but had been moved to a private wing in the hospital by a private benefactor named Kwan.
“Kwan?!” he snapped out of his trance, recognising the name from somewhere but with little idea why! He got up and ran into the briefing room.
“Gov?” Jo was just as confused as the others when Alan grabbed the board marker and started scribbling in his god-awful spider-dipped-in-ink handwriting on the dry wipe board. “What are you doing?”
“Trying to remember why the name Kwan is so familiar.” He said as he listed all the Kwan's he knew of. One stood out. Virlandra Kwan. She'd been a student in his Law class at John Moore's University. She was in the top three of the class and hot as they come, but she dropped out before final exams, citing family reasons. He'd wondered what she'd been up to since then but hadn't heard of her since she was given a business award back in 2000, and a bravery award one year later.
“Gov?” It was Johnson, this time, who broke his concentration.
“What?” He shouted, looking at the board, “What now!”
“Sir, look. Look at what you wrote.” Jo had come to his side now. “Alan, who's Virlandra Kwan?”
“She a suspect sir?” asked Johnson
“No. Victim."
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Extract Two: Kissed By A Rose
It was a piss poor Monday morning in the offices of the newly established Anti-gang Unit. Detective Superintendent Alan Turner, fresh from his first holiday in years and newly promoted, was briefed by his new team on the events of the summer. It turned his stomach to see that the arsonists and burglars didn't take holidays, they took liberties. Bastards thought Alan as the team droned on through the information. After the last murder when he'd only been DCI Turner, he'd made breakthroughs and the team had improved, that was why most of the officers here were from another time. Alan put a hand up and asked the all important question: why they hadn't caught the arsonist in question yet? There was the usual shuffling and mid-morning yawns, but no answer. "So, let me get this straight. You know what he eats for breakfast but you don't know where he is?" asked Alan incredulously. DS Jo Castor looked him in the eye and replied simply: "You weren't here, gov." That was when he realised that his priorities were all wrong. He sank back into his chair, looking at the maps and files Jo had handed to him. She was perched on the edge of the desk, looking at his face, unmoving.
"So, we have any leads? Any idea on what to do? Gov?"
"Sorry, Jo. Here's me fresh from Germany and I'm already fighting to stay on top." He leaned back and sighed. "What have you got so far."
"Okay, this is the gist of it..."
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