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    The Men's Club
    The Men's Club
    The Men's Club
    Ebook309 pages6 hours

    The Men's Club

    By Drew Lindsay

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    About this ebook

    All Ben Hood wanted was a quiet holiday by the sea. He didn’t want to spend time protecting beautiful women, repeatedly getting into fights or analysing bizarre death scenes. He didn’t want to be stalked and shot at by a hit man. Ben therefore, picked a remote coastal town in Australia where none of these things could possibly happen. Guess what?

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDrew Lindsay
    Release dateSep 2, 2012
    ISBN9781476125367
    The Men's Club
    Author

    Drew Lindsay

    Drew Lindsay is a dynamic Australian Novelist and Writer. He has travelled extensively throughout Australia and the world. His background includes working as a Policeman and detective, then managing his own private investigation business as well as working in Fraud Investigation Management positions within the insurance industry.Drew is a PADI Divemaster and holds a private pilot's license. He has a great love of entertaining others with his vivid imagination. His novels allow the reader to escape into worlds of romance, excitement, humour and fast paced adventure. Drew lives in northern New South Wales with his wife.

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      The Men's Club - Drew Lindsay

      CHAPTER ONE

      Kyle Slater wasn’t completely mad, although the system in which most of us live, had judged him to be so through the process of various assessments and legal judgements that eventually determined that he and his un-identical twin, Mark, also not completely mad; be sent to a minimum security mental asylum in Victor Harbor, South Australia. This coastal town is a long way from Adelaide if one was travelling on foot, as some wandering inmates attempted from time to time, and is also isolated sufficiently from the larger community of suburban Adelaide to be, more or less, out of mind.

      As a teenager, Kyle had led his simpler minded brother into a variety of difficult social situations; some which had required them both to be held in a variety of psychiatric wards in Adelaide. The more serious occurrence had landed a reasonably well known and politically connected elderly female, into the emergency ward of the Queen Elizabeth Hospital minus a finger from her right hand which had been bitten off during an altercation with Mark. She was being held down during this particular assault by Kyle. ‘Common Purpose’ is the legal term used. They both should have gone to prison for this kind of offence, but there were extenuating circumstances prior to the finger biting attack which involved the lady directing rather dreadful language towards the Slater brothers, apparently for no good reason, as well as her repeated use of the words: morons, idiots, lunatics, cretins and imbeciles, while referring to them.

      Victor Harbor had been a tiny village on the southern coast of the Fleurieu Peninsula in South Australia since the mid 1800’s. It became a popular seaside holiday destination during this time and the rich and famous ventured there from Adelaide and in fact from all over the world to soak up the vista of the beautiful rolling hinterland hills and feel the fresh ocean breeze from across Encounter Bay.

      Many hundreds of years before Captain Matthew Flinders discovered and named this town, Granite Island, lying just off the coast at Victor Harbor, was an extremely sacred site to the Ramindjeri Aboriginal people. They called the Island Nulcoowarra in their dreamtime stories. The island had endured relatively intact for generations because unlike the mainland, it was made almost entirely of Granite, hence its name.

      In the early 1890’s a timber causeway was constructed from the mainland to Granite Island and mid way through the 1890’s a horse drawn tramway was added to service the loading of thousands of bags of wheat and even more bales of wool, transported from New South Wales and Queensland, to international sailing ships which distributed these valuable Australian commodities to the world.

      The huge timber pylons which supported the Causeway to Granite Island well out of the waters of Encounter Bay often snagged jetsam and flotsam and the occasional dead whale, as Encounter Bay was teaming with whales in the appropriate season. Two very profitable whaling stations thrived in this area until the mid 1860’s.

      On the 7th of June, 2012, the timber pylons snagged something quite different. He was Chinese and about 18 years old. The sharks had ripped off one of his legs and chewed part of his face.

      Jogging in the early morning across the Causeway to Granite Island was a popular activity for many. Some of the more intrepid runners began their journey in the pre-dawn darkness. Others waited until the sun had risen from the shimmering ocean. The ‘dark runners’ as the pre-dawn joggers were nick named, had missed him. James Hay only ran when the sun was up. He was about half way along the Causeway toward Granite Island when he noticed a shoe and a leg in the water near a pylon. He stopped and leaned out over the timber railing. He saw what was left of the rest of the body. The dead man was face up. One eye remained and part of his nose, but very little of his mouth and jaw. The dead man’s long black hair trailed out behind him in the incoming tide. The remains of a heavy fishing net locked him against a barnacle encrusted, slime green pylon. He was wearing a pair of white underpants and a cheap black sandshoe on the only remaining leg.

      James Hay vomited on the timber deck of the Causeway.

      ‘One missing person two days ago and now a body,’ said Detective Sergeant Wendy Harding as she climbed underneath the police cordon tape with Senior Sergeant First Class James Saint, the OIC of Victor Harbor police station, and walked along the Causeway towards Granite Island.

      ‘Let’s hope they are one and the same,’ said James Saint, pulling his police hat down tightly over his crew cut hair to stop the wind whisking it away. ‘We don’t need this kind of thing happening down here.’

      ‘What about the kid murdered in the bath tub in 2001?’

      ‘Ancient history. This is different. It’s a missing Chinese student and hopefully he just went swimming and drowned and that’s what’s floated in.’

      They had reached the group of uniformed police standing in the vicinity where the body was snagged. Wendy leaned out over the railing and viewed the gruesome remains. ‘Bloody hell…!

      James Saint stood back. He wasn’t fond of being close to dead bodies. ‘What’s the problem?’

      ‘It’s not the missing kid. This one is fairly thin and has long hair. The missing boy was a big strapping hulk and had a crew cut from what we ascertained from witnesses. I think this one is Chinese as well.’

      ‘What do you mean by that?’ asked Senior Sergeant Saint.

      ‘Half his face is missing, but from what I can see, he’s Chinese.’

      ‘This is not good,’ said James Saint.

      ‘Where’s our bloody boat?’ Wendy called out to no-one in particular.

      ‘Back on the beach,’ said a female constable with one stripe on the sleeve of her uniform and bright red hair tucked underneath her cap. ‘Amar is running late.’

      Wendy turned to the OIC of the Victor Harbor police station. ‘Constable Amar Chopra. Your brilliant idea of a crime scene expert. Perhaps I should take the bloody photographs myself and then climb down and recover the body.’

      ‘I’m sure he’ll be along soon,’ said Senior Sergeant Saint.

      ‘Crime scene is supposed to beat us to the location, not the other way around,’ said Wendy as she looked back towards the beach. The 25 foot police boat was just backing away from the sand on the northern side of the Causeway. ‘Anyway, I’m heading back to the station. We’ll need Christine down here from Adelaide to do the forensic examination. That will make her day.’ She turned to the female constable who had explained constable

      Chopra’s lateness ‘It’s not turning out a nice day at all Skye.’

      ‘Bit nasty,’ said Constable Skye Markon, pulling her hat down firmly over her bright red hair. ‘Bloody nasty in fact’

      ‘I don’t want any tourists strolling out to the island and that includes that horse drawn tram,’

      ‘OK Wendy.’

      ‘And tell Chopra not to touch the body. I just want photographs and lots of them.’

      ‘What if the sharks come back?’

      ‘Shoot the damn things! And tell Chopra and whoever is working that police boat to stay put until Christine gets here. She’ll need access to the body. Once she’s finished, I want the body taken to shore and the ambos can put him in the cooler at the hospital until Christine decides where she wants to do the autopsy.’ Wendy took another look at the lifeless form, rising and falling with the incoming swell of the tide. ‘She’s much better equipped at the Forensic Services Centre in Adelaide, but I’ll leave that to her.’

      ‘OK,’ said Constable Markon.

      ‘We’ve got some press and a TV crew bailed up on the mainland,’ said James Saint.

      Wendy flicked her long black hair behind her ears and back over her shoulders with both hands. ‘We know bugger all, so they get bugger all.’

      ‘Wendy…’

      ‘Give them your usual bullshit James. We’ve got one missing Chinese kid and another one dead. It could be nothing. The one in the water might have got pissed last night and fallen off the Causeway.’ She looked back at Constable Markon. ‘Who found him?’

      ‘That guy over there,’ said Skye, pointing to a much shaken James Hay, sitting on a bench at the side of the Causeway about 10 metres away. ‘We told him to wait until you got here.’

      ‘Take a detailed statement in your note book; get his full particulars, then send the poor bastard home,’ said Wendy. ‘He looks like shit. Was he doing the morning jog?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Was anyone with him when he found the body?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘OK, get the statement and his contact details and get him out of here. He’s not to speak to the press. OK Skye?’

      ‘Got it.’

      ‘You sound a bit uptight,’ said Senior Sergeant Saint. ‘Have another blue with Stewart?’

      Wendy looked back at James Saint. Her dark brown eyes and facial expression reflected anger. ‘No I did not have a blue with Stewart, as if that is any of your business anyway. Perhaps you should tend more to your own domestic problems and leave me with mine,’ she snapped.

      James Saint tried to stare her down with his deep blue eyes, but he was no match for this woman with fire in her belly that frightened him to a degree. ‘Sandra and I are doing fine and my son’s problems are none of your business.’

      ‘They are when he’s punching the crap out of other kids in the supermarket car park.’ said Wendy.

      ‘That’s enough!’ snapped Senior Sergeant Saint. ‘It’s my problem and I’ll handle it.’

      ‘Yeah right.’ She strode back along the Causeway towards the mainland.

      Senior Sergeant Saint backed away from the vicinity of the body, turned and walked towards the small gathering of press and a TV crew standing behind a police cordon tape near the whale fountain.

      ****

      CHAPTER TWO

      The following day, Ben Hood settled back in the business class aisle seat in row five on QF 739 from Sydney to Adelaide. Ben was an ex New South Wales senior police detective. He and the Police Force mutually parted ways following a series of fatal shootings where Ben had dispatched extremely violent criminals. He felt it was necessary to take that course of action. The powers that be felt otherwise.

      He now worked for a VIP protection agency in Sydney. It was supposed to be a part time arrangement, but within the last 16 months he had been involved in some of the most dangerous situations of his life and been exposed to TV and media attention that made a lot of money for the owner of the security company for which he casually worked, but public exposure for Ben that he resisted like the plague.

      Now it was time out. He had booked accommodation in a cheap, rundown, obscure farmhouse off the Waitpinga road near Encounter Bay, west of Victor Harbor in South Australia. There he could totally relax; read books; sleep in till 10am each morning; wander through the surrounding bush; shoot the occasional rabbit and cook it for dinner. He’d have to see if he could borrow a rifle from someone. This would be heaven.

      The woman seated at the window seat next to him was extremely attractive, but he forced himself not to look at her. Notwithstanding, he quickly noted that she was probably in her mid 30’s, quite tall by the way her legs were stretched out under the seat in front. She had shoulder length, straight brown hair, professionally layered. She wore a light brown skirt which barely covered her knees and a tight fitting cream blouse with long sleeves. She wore no rings or other jewellery that Ben could see. She wore very large, dark, sunglasses.

      She didn’t look at Ben, or even acknowledge him. That suited him fine. He had never liked chit chatting with strangers on planes for no reason other than they just happened to be seated together. She leaned her head against the window frame. Ben pulled out the flight magazine and began to read every article. Some of them were good. Most were boring. Lunch was to be served. It’s smelled very good. Ben loved Qantas aircraft food. It was the best food in the world. This wasn’t because it was the best food in the world because clearly, it was not, but he always got a buzz about eating a meal while flying six kilometres above the earth and hurtling through the air at just under 900 kilometres an hour. To him it had always felt unnatural, so it was good. He would eat the food and he would enjoy it. If he so desired, he could also go to the toilet, wash his face and hands and have a glass of wine. It was nothing short of miraculous as far as he was concerned. They hadn’t even invented planes in his father’s young days. He wished that his father and mother could have lived long enough to experience this just once.

      A current news broadcast was on the video screens, but Ben wasn’t interested and he didn’t have his headphones on. He closed the magazine and let it rest on his lap. He closed his eyes and relaxed.

      He was conscious of heavy footsteps striding past him, headed towards the front of the plane, but took little notice until there was a loud crash and a scream. Ben opened his eyes in time to see a female flight attendant clutch her face and fall backwards, landing heavily against a food trolley. Glasses and two wine bottles fell to the floor and polystyrene cups erupted into the air. A large bald headed man hurled himself against the door to the flight deck and called out loudly, ’let me in damn you!’

      A young male flight attendant attempted to tackle the man but was roughly thrown to one side and then punched in the face. The male flight attendant collapsed against a drinks trolley. The bald man hurled himself against the flight deck door again, but it held firm. Ben unclipped his seat belt and walked quickly to the front of the plane, pushing past the food trolley and stepping over the semi conscious body of the female flight attendant. One of the female passengers in the front row on the left hand side was crying out for help. As Ben approached the bald man he turned and swung a wild punch at his face. Ben blocked it with a sweeping left handed knife-hand action which brought a howl of pain from the huge man. Ben followed through rapidly with a heavy knife hand chop to the side of the man’s neck. He slumped back against the flight deck door clutching at his neck, but almost immediately launched himself towards Ben, bellowing with pain and rage. Ben side- stepped right and delivered a heavy pointed knuckle blow to the bald man’s left temple. He crashed to the floor, not unconscious, but almost. He was now simply whimpering.

      Ben turned and assisted the female flight attendant to her feet. She clung to his arm with both hands. She was bleeding from a fairly severe cut to her bottom lip. ‘Thank you so much sir.’ A passenger handed her a thick wad of tissues which she held to the cut.

      Ben went to the aid of the male flight attendant who had almost regained his feet. As he did the bald man attempted to sit up. ‘I’ll kill you for that you bloody bastard.’

      Ben punched the man again hard on the right side of the head. He hit the floor hard this time and didn’t move again. ‘Do you have restraints?’ he asked a more senior male flight attendant who had now reached the forward section of the plane.

      ‘We do.’ The senior flight attendant opened a locker and pulled down a leather bag. He removed two large cable ties and handed them to Ben. ‘You seem to know what you’re doing sir. We don’t want any more trouble out of this guy.’

      ‘Ex Police,’ said Ben. ‘I’ll secure him. If you could re-locate the lady on her own in 1D, that will leave that row free and I’ll secure him in 1D if that is OK with you.’

      ‘Is he going to be OK?’ asked the more junior flight attendant. ‘He looks very pale and out like a light.’

      ‘He’ll need an ambulance when we land,’ said Ben, but I think he’ll be alright for the time being. I didn’t hit him to kill him, just to knock the fight out of him.’

      ‘You sure did that sir, and we’re very grateful to you,’ said the junior male flight attendant. ‘Are you OK Alice?’

      ‘No I’m not OK,’ said the female flight attendant. ‘I think one of my bottom teeth is loose.’ She sat down in a vacant chair on the left hand side of the aisle. The woman who had been sitting next to Ben appeared beside her and knelt down.

      ‘I’m a nurse. Let me look at your mouth.’

      Flight attendant Alice took the wad of tissues away and the woman with the dark sunglasses took the tissues from her hand. She wiped blood from her chin and then turned back to other flight attendants who had gathered at the front of the plane. ‘Do you have sterile gloves and some gauze?’

      A male flight attendant opened a locker and brought out a large first aid kid. The woman in the sunglasses pulled out disposable surgical gloves from a box and slipped them on. She opened a pack of sterile gauze and gently examined the flight attendant’s lower lip. She packed some gauze inside her mouth between teeth and gum and began to apply a small dressing to the cut on her lip.

      The senior flight attendant picked up the phone on the side wall and pressed a button. He said a few words and hung the phone up. The much shaken woman in 1D was moved further down to another business class seat and Ben dragged the unconscious bald man over to that seat and pulled him into a sitting position. He moved him forward in the seat and secured his wrists behind his back with a cable tie. Ben went through the pockets of his trousers and removed his wallet. He checked his other pockets and removed a small wad of boarding passes and airline tickets folded in half and tucked in the front pocket of his shirt. He pushed the man back in the seat and secured the seat belt tight around his very large frame. Then he bound his ankles together with the second cable tie. A pilot came out as Ben pushed back the bald man’s head and checked his airway and pulse. He then pulled the head restraints out as far as they would go and located the man’s head against the window side restraint. The unconscious man moaned slightly but offered no resistance.

      ‘I’m First Officer Grigg,’ said the pilot. ‘We are greatly indebted to you sir.’

      ‘His name is Ben Hood,’ said the male flight attendant who had also received a heavy punch to the face. ‘He’s from 5B. I don’t know what that bloody moron would have done if Mr. Hood hadn’t intervened. There was nothing we could do to restrain him.’

      ‘Jason. We have passengers,’ said the senior flight attendant.

      ‘No he’s right,’ said a male passenger in 2A. He’s a dead set bloody moron and thank God we had a man on board who knew how to take him down.’

      ‘The captain is radioing ahead for police and paramedics to meet us at Adelaide,’ said First Officer Grigg. ‘We had considered diverting to Melbourne but it would have taken about the same time so we’re remaining on track for Adelaide.’

      Ben flicked through the bald man’s wallet for ID and found two driver’s licenses. Both had the same face for identification, but different names, date of birth but the same address. He then unfolded the airline documentation. He examined each document for a few seconds and then handed it all to First Officer Grigg. ‘This guy flew in from Hong Kong this morning under a different name than for this flight. The captain might want to send both lots of ID details ahead so the South Australian police can check him out before we arrive.’

      ‘Good idea,’ said First Officer Grigg. He addressed the senior male flight attendant. ‘Andy, can you get this mess cleaned up and try and get the lunches out. Alice; you seem to be in good hands?’ Alice nodded. ‘I’ll brief the captain,’ said First Officer Grigg. ‘He will want to make an announcement to the passengers in due course. Is

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