Gold: Blood Of The Beast

GOLD - BLOOD OF THE BEAST

By Terence Charles

‘ThiefTakers’ # Four

Copyright © 2017 Terence Charles

All rights reserved by the author

No part of this book may be printed or copied without the written permission of the author or his agent

Paid.downloads are acceptable

ISBN:9781370811335

ISBN-13:

Beware the rage of a patient man!

A Celtic and Irish saying.

Information

There is a NEW addition to this book. It is on the last pages, which are referenced in the Table of Contents as LINKS.

The ‘Links’ are a series of hyperlinks which if activated by clicking on them use the Google Maps applications to display images of some of the areas that are described in the book.

You can magnify or ‘shrink’ the images with the mouse, and also explore them in a number of ways.

Most of the images are initially displayed as ‘Earth’ overhead images. In this view you can move the image around and alter its magnification. If you click on the ‘MAP’ view you can also then use the ‘Street View’ to explore the images further.

Readers using a computer device to read this EBook will find these Links a helpful addition to the text descriptions of the places referred to, particularly if they are unfamiliar with Canberra, or some of the places described in the following chapters.

However some readers may prefer to access this type of facility immediately after reading about a particular place or site. At the end of the Chapters that have these ‘Links’ you will see the word LINK, underlined and coloured blue. Clicking on this word will also take you to the image of the area referred to in that Chapter.

The LINK below is a link to the authors Web Page and Blog.

LINK

Flight

CHAPTER ONE

Have a good trip boys!

I hope you don't have too many nightmares on the way.

Rayner smiled easily. What us? No fucking way!

What do we have to get nightmares about Dave? We’ll sleep like a couple of babes once we’re up in the air.

We'll soon be back home in Australia mate.

D.I. Dave Bloxham looked at Rayner and Murnaghan sceptically. I don't think I'd sleep too easily if I was in your shoes, even on that big plane and flying away from here.

The Coroners Officer told me that chap Takouba, that you put down in the dock was an awful mess.

He said the two bullets in his guts just about disintegrated and ripped his intestines to pieces. Took his manhood and everything else down there away they did.

Then the one you put in his head went through the bridge of his nose. The nose and his eye was gone, and there was nothing left of the back of his head. It was all over the dock railings, apparently.

They had to use a sponge to clear up I heard.

He said he'd never seen damage like it before from a handgun.

What the fuck do they issue you with down under. Howitzers, fucking cannons?

Murnaghan glanced at Rayner then back to Bloxham with a tight smile. Well Dave, he won't bother us, or anyone else any more will he.

So we can sleep on the flight back home securely, knowing there’s no loose ends left here.

You’re right though, the old magnum packs quite a punch.

Bloxham looked from Murnaghan to Rayner, Do you get counselling, or psychiatric help when you get back to Australia?

You know to get over the gun fights, the deaths and stuff?

Murnaghan laughed easily, Australia and counselling, you got to be joking mate! The only counselling we’ll get is what they pour in the glasses on the plane.

It's usually the bodies we leave walking around that give us sleepless nights mate. Come on Briny, lets get onto that bloody 'plane.

The two detectives shook hands again with Bloxham and moved through the ticketing gates of the boarding lounge. They walked towards the waiting jet with the characteristic red kangaroo on its tail.

Bloxham was left standing in the gate lounge watching them walk away. He was slowly shaking his head. ‘It’ll take them a day or so before they get off that plane again."

"Cooped up all that time the poor buggers. Still better them than me.’

Just hope that none of Takouba’s evil mates send spells or anything after them.

The Lord only knows what they could do to a plane if they really tried. He thought to himself as he walked back towards the exit doors. His mind now firmly focused on the thoughts of large beer, in the back bar of his favourite pub’.

The flight, as ever, was long but largely uneventful.

Murnaghan looked to his left, Rayner’s earphones were firmly in place and he seemed oblivious to the vibration and the grinding noise of the flaps lowering. Earphones clamped on, he was tenaciously concentrating on a lurid novel he had picked up at a newsagent in Hong Kong’s transit area.

The thump of the wheels contacting the concrete and the roar of the engines as they braked the huge Qantas jet finally broke through to him. Rayner looked up and turned his head to Murnaghan. We here then Jim?

Australia. At bloody last.

Yeah, Briny, you’re becoming quite the cool international flier, eh’.

Landings and take-offs, you’re not trying to pull the arms off the chairs anymore!

Well we’ve done it enough times now Jim.

Can’t say I like it, but I reckon I’m getting used to it now.

The two detectives were returning from an assignment in England. They had been sent there by the A.F.P. (Australian Federal Police). Their mission, to assist with the rash of supernatural and criminal events that were occurring in the Midlands. The paranormal events had resulted from the manipulations of a terrorist group, led by two evil Satanists. The two Satanists had created the psychic disturbances with their evil conspiracies. Dealing with the terrorists resulted in both of the two detectives having to contend with multiple attacks. Mental and physical attacks with guns, bombs, and fanatical suicide bombers.

As they exited with their luggage through the customs barrier, Rayner turned to Murnaghan. We got time for a beer before the flight to Canberra?

Yeah, I reckon we have mate, although I might make it a coffee.

Seven thirty in the morning’s a bit early for me.

Still feels like the middle of the night to me Jim.

Bloody jet lag I reckon.

Looking forward to tasting a good cold beer again.

That warm beer in England, and the Heineken on the plane, it’s left me gagging for a Cascade or a Four X.

Briny, the way you were tossing them down when we took off from England. I thought I’d have to pour you off the ‘plane when we got here!

It’s a wonder you’re not as pissed as a parrot.

You going to keep it up all the way to Canberra?

Rayner gave his characteristic mischievous grin. No, a quick taster now, then ‘breckie’ on the ‘plane.

It’ll be good to get back to my little flat mate, and even to see everyone at ‘Trident’ again.

The two detectives had been conscripted into ‘Trident’, or the Special Crime and Terrorist Threat Network department, of the A.F.P. The Commander of S.C.T.T.N. Chief Superintendent David Smythe-Jones. He had recruited them both from the New South Wales Police Force. He recognised their abilities when they dealt with a criminal with psychic powers in an earlier investigation in Sydney and Melbourne.

The small jet flight from Sydney to Canberra seemed cramped and chaotic and only took thirty five minutes including take-off and landing. The detectives caught a cab from Canberra airport, and Rayner was the first to leave it. He now lived close to the City Centre. Murnaghan’s townhouse was a little further out in nearby Queanbeyan.

I’ll unpack and have a shower, and I’ll give you a ring Jim.

OK, mate, take your time. Do you fancy going in to the office today, or shall we leave it for a day or so?

Let’s see how we feel after a shower, when we’ve unpacked and settled back in.

OK, I’ll wait for your call.

LINK

Canberra

CHAPTER TWO

Murnaghan had quickly unpacked his suitcase and attaché case. After opening all the town house’s windows he switched on the radio and plugged a capsule into the coffeemaker. Stretching his arms wide he revelled in the luxury of being on his own with his own space for a while.

After a shower, and another cup of coffee he was just about to close a few of the windows when his phone chirped. Hallo who’s calling?

Jeez, it's good to have a shower and stretch out in your own place isn’t it Jim?

It most certainly is Briny, particularly after all those hours we were cooped up in that ‘plane.

So how do you feel, and what do you want to do now?

I reckon one of us better give the Boss a call. He’ll know by now we’re back in Canberra.

I don’t mind going in for a couple of hours, it’s only early.

I know you want to find out more about the bullion dealer breaks.

During his last conversation with Smythe-Jones, Murnaghan had been concerned by the mention that two bullion dealers in Australia had recently been robbed. Extreme violence was used against the staff at the premises where the robberies occurred. This was the hallmark of an Irish villain Rayner and Murnaghan knew as Padraig Donn, or by his alias Liam Credne. An evil adept they had crossed paths and had battled with in the past.

Yeah well, it has been on my mind.

I couldn’t help thinking about it, and the fact that bastard is still on the loose.

Not much else to think about on a plane really, with you snoring away in the next seat.

I don’t snore!

I hardly bloody slept, anyway. Too uncomfortable.

Yeah yeah. So what do you want to do?

Let’s roll on into the office, be better than a phone call.

We don’t have to stay too long.

We can tell them we’ve still got unpacking to do, and we’re still dealing with jet lag.

OK, then I’ll pick you up on my way.

The two detectives strolled through the main office of the S.C.T.T.N. and made their way to the small office where Cheryl was sitting.

Mr Murnaghan and Mr Rayner. So good to see you back again and both in one piece.

You both look very well. No walking stick Mr. Rayner.

I hope you had a lovely time in England.

Cheryl, a pleasant cheerful middle-aged woman, is Smythe-Jones’ personal assistant. She always appeared efficient, calm and collected. That is until Rayner lapsed into his inevitable teasing. Making the most obvious amorous remarks to her and enjoying her embarrassed responses.

Rayner leaned across Cheryl’s desk smiling lecherously. England was all right Cheryl, but the whole time we were away I couldn’t get the thought of you out of my mind.

I don’t need my walking stick any more, so if you’d like a quick foxtrot, or maybe a tango?

Just a quick whirl in my arms around the main office.

Mr Smythe-Jones, Detectives Rayner and Murnaghan are here to see you.

Can I send them straight in please? Cheryl had grabbed the telephone and gasped out the sentence while she leaned back, well away from Rayner’s beaming face.

Just go straight through, Mr. Smythe-Jones is happy that you’re here.

He is waiting for you right now.

The two detectives walked past Cheryl’s small desk, then through the door to the adjoining office. Smythe-Jones sat behind his large impressive walnut desk. Immaculate as ever in a pin-stripe silver grey double-breasted suit, his gun metal blue eyes swivelled from one to the other as they approached him.

Sit down lads, you both look a little tired. Long flights they do drain one slightly.

Murnaghan smiled, Yes the flights take a while.

We’re back now though, and we’ll soon be ready for work again.

I suppose there’s plenty of that to be done?

Smythe-Jones leaned back in his large chair. Yes, we always seem to have plenty of work Jim.

I’m very pleased to see you today. Although I didn’t really expect either of you in the office quite so soon.

I have a file here that I’d like you to have a look at. No rush, just give me your opinions in a day or so.

Smythe-Jones reached into the open drawer on the left side of the desk and took out a buff coloured manila folder. He slid the folder across the desk towards them.

Murnaghan glanced down at the white sticker on the folder. Perth and Adelaide, are these the bullion robberies?

Yes that’s right Jim, I’d just like you two to see if you get any feelings from reading them.

Rayner looked directly across at Smythe-Jones, Donn or Credne in the bag for these you reckon Boss?

Smythe-Jones shook his elegantly groomed head, I’m not really sure Briny. Could be, or maybe I can’t see past the M.O.

Anyway lads, I think you two are the best informed on the subject of Donn.

Is there anything that either of you need, or require help with now that your back?

Murnaghan immediately said, Yes there is Boss, can you direct me to a priest, one of our contacts here.

I need to pick up a supply of ‘holy’ water.

Smythe-Jones smiled, Yes of course Jim, running low on your special supply of three five sevens are you?

Murnaghan just smiled back and nodded.

We have a few friends here, but probably the most confidential one for you to visit would be the Holy Trinity in Curtin.

The church is on the corner of Strangways and Theodore Streets. Ask for Father Vincento and mention my name, he’s a good man.

Thanks Boss, I’ll see him tomorrow.

Good. Then you’ll let me know your feelings about the reports when you’ve had time to familiarise yourselves with them.

Smythe-Jones looked down, and withdrew another folder from the desk drawer, opened it on his desk and began to read.

Rayner looked at Murnaghan and they both stood up and were walking back out of the office when Smythe-Jones cleared his throat conspicuously. Murnaghan and Rayner turned back to face him with questioning expressions on their faces.

Smythe-Jones was looking at them with a smile on his face. Good work in England boys, very well done.

I spoke with John Tapstone, the Chief Constable of the West Midlands, last night.

He was very impressed.

Of course the news items they have released are bemoaning the fact that Takouba was killed, and he can’t be bought before the courts and to justice.

John said privately though, he’d like to congratulate you both on your efficiency and accuracy.

The thought Takouba could have been placed back in an open court again is just something he’d rather not contemplate.

Smythe-Jones the smile still on his face held up his right hand, a gesture of acknowledgement, a salute, and a dismissal.

The two detectives smiled back at Smythe-Jones. They about turned and continued out of his office.

Holy Trinity

CHAPTER THREE

The two detectives sat facing each other at Rayner’s desk. They passed sheets of paper from the folder Smythe-Jones had given them, across the desk too each other.

Looks like that bastard Donn’s work Jim.

The unnecessary violence to the staff of the office in Perth and then running the security guy down in Adelaide. Poor bloke, both thighs smashed, he’ll be lucky to ever walk again.

Murnaghan nodded, Yeah, it looks that way Briny, but I’m not sure.

The fact they took almost exclusively gold sounds like the way he works.

Murnaghan had been highlighting some of the passages on the pages with a yellow highlighter. Skimming through them rapidly. I don’t know though mate.

There’s a comment here that one of the staff in Adelaide was sure he heard at least one man speak with a European accent. French, Swiss, Danish or something like that.

Yeah, I saw that, but the Perth crew say one robber was shorter than the others.

That sounds like Donn himself.

Doesn’t seem likely though that Donn would work with anyone that wasn’t Irish.

No mention of long hair, or a high-pitched laugh either.

Nothing left at either of the scenes forensics could pick up.

Seems they are real careful robbers, not to leave a print, a hair or a trace of something.

Looks like we’ll have to give the Boss the file back and say we’re not sure about it.

Let’s have a look at this Church in Curtin first.

Leave the facts to roll around in our heads for a while. We’ll hand it in when we get back, with our comments. After we’ve spoken with Father Vincento.

Rayner stopped the car in Theodore Street a typical street in the leafy environment of the suburb of Curtin. They both got out and walked around the church. The Holy Trinity has a red-tiled roof of an unusual shape, viewed from above it would appear like a six pointed star.

They entered the front doors and walked down the cool dimly centre aisle almost to the altar before they saw a young man. He was dressed in black trousers and a short-sleeved black shirt with the inevitable white ‘dog’ collar. He appeared busy doing something with hymn books.

Excuse me can you tell me where I can find Father Vincento?

I’ll get him for you, who can I tell him is looking for him? The voice was deep with an Australian accent.

My name is Jim Murnaghan, and my friend is Charlie Rayner, but the Father doesn’t know either of us.

A mutual friend, David Smythe-Jones directed us here to the Father.

Just wait where you are, I’ll only be a minute.

The young man walked briskly away and disappeared through a side door on the left side of the church.

Rayner and Murnaghan took a seat in a pew. It was only a few moments later when they were approached by a tall ascetic-looking man dressed in black clerical clothing.

Good morning, I believe you are friends of David’s.

The man spoke with a heavy accent, the face tanned, long and lined. Heavily hooded dark brown eyes a slightly hooked nose, and shiny straight black hair.

‘Italian, Spanish, maybe even Portuguese.’ Murnaghan thought to himself. No, I’m sorry Father, we're not friends we work for David, that is Mr Smythe-Jones. He suggested that we come here to meet you and ask for your help.

I see. I see. For what reason did David suggest that you seek my assistance?

Father I’m sure you know the people in David’s employ often have to arrest, or battle with people who are not just average criminals.

DI Rayner and I are two of his staff who do this regularly. We’ve already found that our regular weapons and other tools are of no help against this type of criminal.

I hoped that you could supply me with a small amount of Holy Water.

The priest didn’t seem at all surprised by the request. He nodded, Yes David and his staff seem to battle against the most unholy creatures of humanity.

Do you have a container for the water?

Murnaghan nodded back, Yes Father.

He pulled from his jacket pocket the baby’s feed bottle they had purchased in Hobart, to contain their original supply of Holy Water. He handed the bottle to the priest.

Ah, a container to nourish an infant. How appropriate.

The priests face clouded over and he looked concerned. It’s fortunate that you called here today. I was considering speaking with David about something that happened here just a few days ago.

It was during mass, and I was giving communion. There was a young lady, long fair hair, and as I moved onto other members of the congregation, I saw her put a tissue to her mouth.

I think she didn’t swallow the host but took it away with her in the tissue.

It disturbed me she may have done that. I wondered why and thought I should call David. But you are here now.

Murnaghan nodded, Can you give us any further details about the woman Father?

She was young, well built and athletic, she appeared furtive but there was a coldness there I think. That’s why I noticed her actions while I was giving communion to the others at the altar.

She was with two men, one very fair almost white, like an albino. The other a big man I didn’t notice very much about him.

I asked an altar boy during the mass to watch them. He slipped out of church and followed them.

These are the details he gave me.

The priest handed to Murnaghan a piece of paper on which was written in block capitals the registration number of a car, and the words ‘WHITE HONDA’.

Murnaghan smiled, Your altar boy is smart to have got these details and written them down.

We’ll look into it and let you know what we find.

It wouldn’t class as a standard offence, theft or anything. As the host was freely given. We will track these people down and see what they are about.

I’ll let you know what we find Father.

The priest nodded, turned and walked down the aisle and vanished through the same door that the other priest had used.

It was about five minutes before he reappeared.

I have the bottle here for you gentlemen.

Perhaps you would oblige me and both kneel for a moment.

Murnaghan looked at Rayner who shrugged his shoulders. They both knelt down on the kneeling pad attached to the pew in front of them.

The priest stood directly in front of them, almost hovering over them. He intoned words, probably in Latin,