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    The Dark Affair
    The Dark Affair
    The Dark Affair
    Ebook269 pages3 hours

    The Dark Affair

    By Drew Lindsay

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    About this ebook

    Ben Hood isn’t all that comfortable with BDSM practices. He’s never actually spanked anybody, and no-one has ever spanked him! When the body of his work partner’s brother is found washed up on the beach of a small island off the coast of Far North Queensland, with a dog collar and chain around his neck, Ben finds himself dragged into a dark, dangerous world where only his special fighting skills and ability to survive against the odds, can keep him and others alive.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDrew Lindsay
    Release dateNov 3, 2012
    ISBN9781301333424
    The Dark Affair
    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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      Book preview

      The Dark Affair - Drew Lindsay

      They had only recently met. The chemistry between them was electric. They could hardly keep their hands off each other. Each look between them sent tingles to areas of their bodies which immediately showed in a physical reaction, more particularly him. On the mainland of Australia, in towns, restaurants and shopping centres, this may have been embarrassing. On a 40 foot Delphia yacht well out to sea near Palm Island in North Queensland, with one very privacy conscious 50 year old skipper and a shapely 24 year old female Vietnamese cook who also doubled as a general hand, Grant and Rhonda were afforded numerous opportunities to indulge their heightened passions in numerous and often questionable ways. No-one on the ‘Sea Spray’ questioned their activities however, as Grant and Rhonda had paid up front for this 4 day exploration of a small part of the Great Barrier Reef.

      Their point of departure had been Townsville. The ‘Sea Spray’ initially set a course north under half its sail capacity, then moved out to sea and slowly turned back towards the Palm Island group. The skipper wasn’t keen on either stopping at Palm Island, or anchoring anywhere near the place. Recent unrest between the local Aboriginal population and the very substantial police presence on the island formed the basis of his decision. Grant and Rhonda didn’t care. Their priorities lay elsewhere.

      ‘Tiff. Drop some sail.’

      ‘You putting in for the night Skip?’

      Skipper Don Armstrong had been sailing his Delphia 40 for almost 10 years. It wasn’t his full time job although his ownership of the Sea Spray allowed him to indulge both work and pleasure on numerous occasions. He knew the Great Barrier Reef, the Whitsundays and the South Pacific Ocean as well as any large yacht owner.

      Tiffany Nguyen leapt towards the sails. Her bikini clad, bronzed, athletic body could have easily turned every head on any catwalk of the world. She preferred obscurity although she did have another job which kept her quite busy from time to time. Her love of the sea however, drew her again and again to the Sea Spray. She didn’t want a man, even the Skip. He got drunk one night and tried. He failed. He sported a black eye for weeks after. He never attempted to touch her again. Otherwise, as far as the ‘Sea Spray’ was concerned, she did exactly what he wanted her to do.

      ‘We’re rounding Fly Island. I think we need to stop Tiff.’

      ‘Havannah Island would be better for the love birds.’

      ‘Fly Island thanks,’ said Don. ‘Northwest beach babe. I think we should take a look.’

      ‘Don’t call me babe.’

      ‘Sorry.’

      Tiffany dropped the sails quickly and effortlessly. ‘Jesus!’

      ‘Drop all the sails Tiff.’

      ‘Is he sunbaking?’

      ‘I don’t think so. Where are the love birds?’

      ‘In the saloon.’

      ‘I need the anchor out.’

      ‘On its way Skip.’

      The Sea Spray slowed and stopped 50 metres short of the small stretch of pure white sand at the northwest tip of Fly Island. The crystal clear sea was calm. Tiny waves rippled towards the shore. Sea birds swirled, screamed and dived towards the beach. There was food there.

      Don Armstrong looked back at his yacht hand. ‘You don’t have to go.’

      ‘Good. You go.’

      ‘I’m not going.’

      Tiffany Nguyen dived from the side of the yacht without hesitation. She surfaced a few seconds later and looked back at the Skipper. ‘Throw me one of the diving cameras.’

      ‘I hardly think that is necessary. Just check it out and get back here.’

      ‘Camera!’

      The Skipper picked up a bright orange coloured reef camera and threw it towards the Vietnamese girl swimming close to his yacht. She grabbed it, gripping the nylon strap between her teeth and began to swim towards the beach. Her long black hair trailed in the warm tropical water behind her.

      ‘We’ve stopped!’ Rhonda Wilson was unsteady on her feet. She was only half way up the stairs to the main deck. ‘Have we crashed into a reef or something?’

      ‘No darling,’ said the Skipper. ‘We’re just checking out something.’

      ‘Should I come up and help?’

      ‘Can you manage the rest of the stairs by yourself?’

      ‘I don’t think so.’

      ‘Then perhaps you should go back to bed. Where’s Grant?’

      ‘Still asleep. I’d like an orange juice.’

      ‘Then off you go back to bed and I’ll be down with an orange juice as soon as we work out this little problem we have here.’

      ‘What problem?’

      ‘There appears to be a dead person on an island we’re close to.’

      ‘Dead Island?’

      ‘No, a dead person.’

      ‘On the Island?’

      ‘Yes.’

      Rhonda fainted and fell back into the saloon.

      The dead man was lying on his back. The tropical sun had scorched his skin to the point of blistering in places. The birds had been attacking parts of his flesh and his eyeballs were gone. He was in his mid to late 30’s, with several days beard growth. He was wearing bright red board shorts and a tiny silver ring on the little finger of his left hand. A thick leather collar was fastened firmly around his neck. About half a metre of light steel chain hung from a metal ring on one side of the collar. He was a tall man, perhaps just over six feet, with short black hair and a well trimmed moustache. His mouth and empty eye sockets were full of flies. His chest was starting to expand as decomposition set in.

      Tiffany approached him slowly. The birds had scattered. She flicked her long wet hair back over glistening shoulders, took several photographs and then turned and walked to the softly rolling waves. ‘Better call the cops Skip,’ she called loudly.

      ‘Already have! How does he look?’

      ‘What kind of a question is that? He’s dead! He’s also got a dog collar around his neck.’

      ‘A what?’ yelled Skip.

      ‘A bloody dog collar with a chain attached!’

      ‘Lord in Heaven,’ said Don Armstrong softly as he leaned against the aluminium boom.

      ****

      CHAPTER TWO

      ‘You have to complete a site inspection Muriel. It’s procedure.’

      ‘Thanks for the update Roy. I know the damn procedure. You weren’t even born before the so called procedure was invented.’

      Detective Sergeant Roy Hall sat back in his battered leather chair and looked out through the only window in his Townsville office. The view extended for about two metres, as someone in charge of maintaining the quickly growing vegetation around the Townsville police station had decided that the huge banana plantation on one side of the detective’s office should remain intact.

      ‘We’re flying out Muriel. The chopper takes off in 25 minutes.’

      ‘And just how have you decided to bring back the stiff? Are you strapping him into the chopper with us?’

      ‘The police launch is already on its way. The body comes back by boat.’

      ‘Who is flying the chopper?’

      ‘Alexandra.’

      ‘You have to be joking! I’m not flying with her. She’s had two crashes in less than a year.’

      ‘They weren’t exactly crashes Muriel. She spends hours in the air. This is a tropical location. Things are somewhat unpredictable. No-one was killed or injured in those incidents.’

      ‘Why don’t you just drag the body back here and I’ll deal with it in the morgue.’

      ‘Sorry lady. You are the forensic pathologist for this region. Pack your camera and whatever. I’ll have a car outside your office in ten minutes. Don’t worry about makeup.’

      ‘Well I wouldn’t be wearing makeup for you Roy. I’ve got bigger fish to fry.’

      ‘Yeah, like who?’

      ‘None of your God damn business.’

      ‘How old are you?’

      ‘None of your God damn business.’

      ‘I’m 48.’

      ‘I’m 62.’

      ‘You’re kidding!’

      ‘Do you think I’m older?’

      ‘No, I thought much younger.’

      ‘I’ll be waiting for your car.’

      The chopper slowly circled Fly Island and the nearby ‘Sea Spray’ vessel, lying at anchor. Muriel sat in the front seat of the helicopter, on the left hand side, next to the pilot, Alexandra Simmons.

      ‘I’ll land on the high side of the beach,’ said Alexandra.

      ‘Try not to crash,’ said Muriel into the mouthpiece fixed to her headphones.

      The attractive pilot glanced at her passenger. ‘I’ve never crashed.’

      ‘Do tell…’

      ‘Muriel, are you aware of a pilot’s definition of a successful landing?’

      The forensic pathologist looked over at her much younger companion at the controls of the helicopter. ‘I don’t think so.’

      ‘One you can walk away from.’

      Muriel clenched her fists and decided to say nothing more until the helicopter was firmly on the ground and the huge blades were slowing.

      Tiffany Nguyen sat on the pure white sand well away from the body, her feet in the shallow water. Muriel looked walked towards her. The turbo powered Arrius 2F engine on the ‘Hummingbird’ EC120B helicopter, slowly became silent as the blades slowed to a stop with a decreasing whooshing sound.

      ‘Did you find him?’ asked Muriel.

      ‘The skipper saw him and put in. I swam in for a closer look and took some photos. Are you from the police?’

      ‘I’m the forensic pathologist. I’ll need your photographs.’

      ‘That’s OK.’

      ‘Did you touch or move him?’

      ‘Are you crazy?’

      Muriel looked across at the body lying on the sand. Roy Hall was now standing on a grassy knoll about 10 metres inland from the body. A rather large girl in her late 20’s, with short cropped silver hair, baggy cargo pants, brown hiking boots and a white T shirt which was much too small for her, had accompanied them in the helicopter. She was taking photographs of the body and surrounding area with a large digital camera. ‘I think I am crazy honey,’ she said to Tiffany. ‘No-one in their right mind does the kind of work I do.’

      ‘The birds were pecking at him.’

      ‘That’s only natural. They have to eat something.’

      ‘He’s wearing a dog collar around his neck.’

      ‘I’ll check that out,’ said Muriel.

      ‘You’re not surprised?’

      ‘Nothing surprises me. Are you alright?’

      ‘Yes thank you. Can I swim back to the boat?’

      ‘The Detective Sergeant will want some particulars. Then you can go back to the boat.’ Muriel shaded her eyes with one hand and looked out at the ‘Sea Spray’. ‘Looks like your passengers are somewhat distressed.’

      ‘They are only distressed because their holiday was inconvenienced.’

      ‘We’ll take care of things from here. Can I ask; did you notice any footprints around the body as you approached it?’

      ‘No. There were no footprints.’

      ‘What about his?’

      ‘Whose?’

      ‘The dead bloke?’

      ‘No, none at all.’

      Muriel pulled a small notebook from a pocket of her bright red shirt, flipped it open and scribbled notes with a large pen. ‘Have you seen a body before?’

      ‘Yes, a few and I saw my mother after she died.’

      ‘You will be quite upset at seeing this dear. If you’ve got a good friend, tell them all about it and don’t keep it locked up inside.’

      Tiffany nodded. ‘I’m alright thank you.’

      ‘OK. Go talk to the Detective. Walk well clear of the body and then get the hell out of here.’

      ‘Yes Ma’am.’

      Muriel took photographs with her own small digital camera as she approached the body. Alexandra stayed with the helicopter. Tiffany Nguyen and Detective Roy Hall spoke together for some time. Muriel activated a tiny digital recorder. ‘We have a deceased male in his late 30’s. He is wearing bright red board shorts and some kind of dog collar around his neck. There appears to be a stainless steel ring attached to the left side of the collar and clipped to that ring…correction, permanently attached to the ring by padlock, is about one metre of bright silver chain. He’s been attacked by scavenger birds.’ Muriel looked across at Detective Roy Hall speaking with the stunning Vietnamese girl. Roy towered over the girl. It reminded her of a giant talking to a midget. She wondered why they were taking so long with their conversation. She glanced at the huge helicopter parked on a sand dune nearby. Then she passed out, her face landing heavily on the sand next to the decomposing body.

      ****

      CHAPTER THREE

      ‘What happened?’

      ‘You fainted.’

      ‘I know I fainted you dumb copper but what’s the medical explanation. I can see I’m in a damn hospital,’ said Muriel; her voice rising in volume and pitch.

      Detective Roy Hall got up from his chair. ‘If you’re going to be a nasty bitch, I’m leaving.’

      The forensic pathologist closed her eyes. ‘I’m sorry Roy. I am a nasty bitch, aren’t I?’

      ‘Not all the time. Sometimes you can be quite charming.’

      ‘How did I get back here?’

      ‘Alexandra flew you back in the chopper.’

      ‘I’ll bet it was the flight to the island that gave me the fainting spell in the first place. The return flight wouldn’t have helped.’

      ‘The flights out and back were as smooth as silk.’

      The door to Muriel’s hospital room burst open and a small, stunning and extremely shapely Vietnamese girl with a stethoscope around her neck strode in. ‘Your blood pressure dropped. That’s why you dropped.’

      ‘The helicopter ride did that,’ said Muriel.

      ‘More likely your age darling,’ said Doctor Tanya Mai.

      ‘And what the hell do you mean by that?’

      Dr. Mai laughed. ‘You’re asking me?’

      ‘I take tablets,’ said Muriel.

      Tanya Mai clipped a patient file to a hook at the end of Muriel’s bed. ‘I’ll bet you do. Were they prescribed 10 years ago?’

      ‘Go away Tanya. I don’t feel well.’

      ‘I’ve taken all the blood I need from you and its being run. I’m then adjusting your blood pressure medication and whatever else may be necessary.’

      ‘I didn’t know anyone had taken blood samples?’

      ‘No, you didn’t, did you?’ Dr. Mai turned and left the room.

      ‘I’ll have her balls,’ said Muriel.

      ‘She’s one of the hottest women in Townsville,’ said Roy. ‘You won’t find balls.’

      ‘I’ll have her tits then….whatever!’

      ‘She won’t part with them easily,’ said Detective Hall. ‘They made the local magazine last month in a bikini shot that won her the Miss Far North Queensland beauty pageant. That photo that still has the town talking.’

      Muriel looked away and was silent for a while. ‘First a Vietnamese chick on the island and now I have to deal with another Vietnamese chick with a stethoscope. We’re being over-run by these foreign imports.’

      ‘They were both born and raised in Australia. Sorry to have to bring you up to date with things Muriel, but we’re multicultural now.’

      ‘Well these two appear to be having problems keeping most of their clothes on from time to time.’

      ‘They’ve both got it Muriel. Let them flaunt it.’

      ‘Dirty old man.’

      ‘OK, I’ve been insulted enough for one day.’

      ‘How long was I out?’ asked Muriel.

      ‘Around 4 hours.’

      ‘That’s not good.’

      ‘Apparently not. You best do what Dr. Mai recommends.’

      ‘I hate growing old,’ said Muriel.

      ‘Well unless you actually croak, you’re stuck with the job of forensic pathologist here because no-one else wants it. Even the Army medics stationed here don’t want to get involved in civilian deaths.’

      ‘What happened to the stiff?’

      ‘We did a million photographs, bagged him up and shipped him off to the Townsville morgue.’

      ‘So I have a cut job in the morning?’

      ‘Depends on when Tanya will let you out.’

      ‘She’s not big enough to stop me,’ said Muriel.

      ‘She’s strong and very fit. I wouldn’t tangle with her.’

      ‘Fiddlesticks!’

      ‘He was wearing a dog collar and chain,’ said Roy. I don’t see that every day….not on a bloke anyway.’ He sat back with his hands clasped behind his head. ‘There’s a porno book doing record sales in Australia just now.’

      ‘So I’ve heard,’ said Muriel.

      ‘Do you have a copy?’

      ‘Good heavens! Of course I don’t..!’

      ‘It’s creating a lot of interest.’

      ‘Do you think this dead guy was involved in that kind of thing?’

      ‘He wears a dog collar and chain so there’s a good chance,’ said Detective Hall. ‘I don’t even know who he is yet.’

      ‘Do you have any idea how he died?’

      ‘I think his body washed up or was dragged onto Fly Island. I’d say he died somewhere else. Sorry

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