Life Ain't Pretty

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Author bio

Chapter 1

Rampant cloud

Her words echoed inside Dan’s mind. He’s potty over my dishes. He thinks just because it’s his retirement meal, he’s got to have the head chef serve it to him, personally. He keeps using my meals as an excuse to brush against me or pass some smutty remark. I just don’t want to be left alone with the creep.

Dan glanced at his watch, picked up his fishing rod, cut off the small fish that dangled on its line and chucked it back into the river. In seconds, he’d packed his fishing items then hurried to his van. The traffic was lazy; he rolled past sun-kissed sky scrapers while thinking about their conversation the night before. Are you telling me you’ve got no other option than to entertain him privately? he’d asked.

Dan, it’s not as simple as that, she’d told him.

Why isn’t anyone else celebrating with him?

He’s got too much influence there. Even though he’s leaving, he’s still my boss. Will you just make sure you pick me up, so I’m not left alone with him?

Dan resumed his focus on the red traffic light then hit the dashboard with his fist. Come on!

***

Half an hour elapsed before he entered the reception, made his way across its marble floor, through to a side-room. Alright guys, my name’s Dan McBray.

A group of security guards turn from their CCTV monitors, face him.

I have security pass attendance with Mrs Annie McBray.

A large man in a cream suit approached. Greetings, I’ll just need to carry out a quick rub-down search, alright? He moved quick, gently patted Dan’s back and legs. Here. He handed Dan a small gadget.

What’s this for?

Take this with you in the lift up to the third floor, said the guard. When you get there, walk along the end of the landing and make sure you point this at all the doors. Only authorised areas give you access.

Thanks. Dan gazed at the CCTV monitors. So where are they then?

The guard seemed indifferent. You won`t spot them on these. He gestured towards the nearby lift.

***

The gold-plated elevator reflected every contour of his tense brown face. His hand slid into his jacket side-pocket. He froze for a second when his fingers touched the contour of a cold steel blade. Shit, he muttered.

The doors opened and he was alerted to the sound of screams at the end of the corridor. He raced past vacated offices towards the sound before stopping outside a double door. With the gadget aimed and pressed, he saw a suited bald man with Annie pinned to a table.

Dan ran, threw a punch to the man’s head. You bastard!

The man tumbled to the floor, grabbed Dan’s leg, pulled him to the ground, where they wrestled beneath a table.

Annie was about to run outside, turned back. Dan, watch out for the knife!

Dan released his grip on the man. They scrambled on their hands and knees towards the object. He was too late. Butterflies gnawed at his stomach, his breath became urgent when the pointed blade was thrust towards him. He dodged the attempt, grabbed the man by his wrist while catching a stench of alcohol, twisted his arm away.

You want to play rough, do you! the man yelled. I’ll cut your bloody heart out, son, and feed it to my fucking dogs!

Their arms lock. Dan felt the cold sweat trickle over him while staring into the man’s hawkish blue eyes, back down at the knife tip. His heels slid around on the ground. Annie! he called.

Annie grabbed the attacker’s arm, her long fingernails clawed into his hand, bending it toward his own chest. Suddenly he groaned like a wounded bear, collapsed onto Dan.

Dan rolled him onto his back, stood up, looked down at the glossy blood oozing onto the thick, grey carpet. Trembling, Dan watched the man’s blood-soaked hand reach inside his blazer, retrieve a small black box that started a red-light pulse. He gurgled bubbles of blood before his hands slumped by his side, eyes closed. Silent.

Dan crouched, slowly attempted to pull the knife from the man’s chest.

Behind him, thundering footsteps grew louder. A deep voice shouted, Stop!

Dan spun around, saw a squad of security guards. He attacked her, he’s hurt, said Dan.

Where the hell were you? I called for help, Annie shouted.

The guards ignored her and ran towards Dan. Stay where you are! Don’t move! They grabbed his limbs, forced him flat onto the ground with both arms firmly pinned behind his back.

Oscar Romeo twelve, began the senior guard, urgent medical assistance required in the executive lounge! He turned to Dan. You’re staying right here until the police get here, okay.

I haven’t done anything; I was defending her! Dan yelled.

Well that isn’t what we saw, replied the guard. He turned to Annie, shrugged his shoulders. You’ll have to wait around for the police, stay in the staff room.

Chapter 2

Wild seas

Hold the number card up to your chest and face the camera, said the burly police officer whose head reminded Dan of a large potato. Yes, that’s fine, he added. Now we’ll need to carry out a strip-search before we take your fingerprints…

***

Inside the police cell, Dan glossed over the pale-yellow walls, while seated on a solid bench, engraved from corner to corner with graffiti. He held his head in his hands, got up, searched for an opening in the block-like glass that seemed to curve daylight away from the room. A noisy air conditioner gave off a continuous swoosh drone. He paced back and forth again. Can’t we open the windows in this damned place! he yelled. He could hear the voices of nearby detainees, one who begged for a smoke, another moaned about property being taken. Dan sat, feeling naked, although dressed from head to feet in a white paper suit.

The DS opened his cell door, four constables escorted him. Mr McBray, he said. You’re going to be detained until tomorrow morning, when we’d like to interview you. Would you be seeking any legal assistance? He peered down at him, as if seeing through his own long pointed nose.

I don`t have anything to hide, Dan insisted. I`m ready to be interviewed any time you need to. I just want this sorted out so I can go back home.

The DS responds with a hushed tone of voice. Mr McBray, there needs to be a lot of satisfactory answers before we can even imagine entertaining thoughts about you going back home, just yet. Now I suggest you think seriously about contacting a lawyer. May I offer you a selection from our list of registered legal practitioners?

***

Good morning, Dan, take a seat, said the DS.

Dan sat by the small table. The words kept repeating inside his head: the suspected murder of Patson Zalmer.

Now, Dan, continued the DS, do you mind us referring to you by your first name?

It doesn`t bother me.

Well, I have in front of me here an exhibit retrieved from your home. We’d like you to tell us please, Dan, why do you keep a collection of South African apartheid related paraphernalia?

Oh, those are from my college. They’re just old articles I was using to chronicle modern day state racial oppression as part of my university project.

How very interesting, remarked the DS. Well, we know that you’re not at university at the moment. But tell me, Dan, would it be fair to suggest that you’re passionate about the idea of violent revolt against oppressive white regimes? I mean, it’s perfectly understandable. I can imagine, for example, if I were a dog and my master kept me fastened to a short chain, feeding me grub I didn’t want and beating me for every little thing, I think I’d probably snap sooner rather than later, wouldn’t you agree? he prompted, raising his bristled mousy eyebrows expectantly.

Of course, I don`t agree! Dan answered, First, I’m a peaceful human being, you can’t compare me to a dog, and I don’t harbour malice or violent fantasies okay? Secondly, I’m a philosophy student on my gap year. Those are just chronicled media reports along a certain theme. I wanted to use them in future, for a project. I’m going to be a philosophy teacher some day.

Alright then, Dan, the DS butted in. I notice you have amongst these records a number of articles relating to anti-apartheid terrorism. Why entertain that? How might this relate to a British man, such as you, Dan? he feigned curiosity.

What’s this got to do with my wife being attacked or me defending her? he asked. Yes, I’m Black, I have interests that affect Black people, is that a problem?

The problem, Dan, is that from what we`ve seen and heard so far, there seems to be an unhealthy interest, on your part, relating to the violent use of knives for a start. Secondly, it does strike us as a bit too coincidental in this matter that you just happened to be interested in the old apartheid regime. Finally, you`ve told us that you went fishing after half a day at work. But although you allegedly caught fish, you subsequently disposed of them, as they were too small. Is it fair to say, Dan, there is no evidence that you were actually fishing other than your own assertions?

Of course, there`s evidence, there were witnesses everywhere alongside the river, you just need look if you don`t believe me.

The DS sighed, as if he were growing tired of the explanations. Did you know that Mr Zalmer was a former paratrooper who carried out several tours of duty in Northern Ireland during the seventies?

I didn’t know anything about him.

Well, are you denying that you were aware Mr Zalmer was patron to the then apartheid-run banking corporation Soar Zone for a number of years?

Look, who would know all of that? Dan responded. I wasn`t even out of school at that stage.

No, the DS shot back. But you might just have easily learned about this.

Well there’s no end to what a person might learn. Who on earth would be interested enough in me to go explaining away another man`s past occupation while I don`t even know this man? It’s ridiculous.

Well, answered the DS. There`s your wife Annie to start with. She would have known about his background. Her mother was an old acquaintance from what we understand. Perhaps she spoke about Mr Zalmer and it came out.

Where are you going with all this? He felt hot.

Alright, Dan, announced the DS, unfolding his arms. I suppose we`ve been a bit in the grey about exactly where we`re coming from with all these questions. What we`re getting at, Dan, is we believe Mr Zalmer was your target. He was on your agenda.

I haven’t met the man, how could he be a target?

Listen carefully, Dan, his background and interpersonal work relationship with your wife could be described by some as being controversial. You knew he was pro-apartheid. That must have riled you, surely. He was a man of financial means. His resources were dependent upon the exploitation of Black African labour. You were obsessed with the notion of racial equality by any means necessary. We’ve seen your Malcolm X poster.

I owned that since I was a kid, it was tucked away in some cupboard.

We believe this is precisely the type of material which motivated you to launch an attack against Mr Zalmer. You were inspired by your heroes of violent civil rights campaigns. You sought to re-enact fantasies you probably harboured for years about righting some wrong you felt was committed against you by white people, isn’t that right, Dan?

That’s nonsense. My wife is white and I love her just like my own family.

That wasn’t enough for you. It was well known among staff that Mr Zalmer had no qualms about using his position. He took a fancy to your missus. I dare say she welcomed it. He paused as though holding his breath.

Dan said nothing, realising the detective wanted to provoke a response.

You despised him, continued the DS. You believed he was a man with racist ideologies. Naturally, you felt threatened when you learned he was former patron for Soar Zone Banking Corporation. Understandably, this would have railed against everything you stood for. You couldn’t help yourself. After finding out about his cosy relationship with Annie, how he wooed her, we’ve no doubt that was the last straw. You later spotted them at it, on the office table and probably felt just like that little dog I mentioned earlier. That would’ve been breaking point for many a man in your shoes, Dan. That was the point when you decided to be judge, jury and executioner.

That`s total rubbish! he shouted and then quickly calmed down realising the detective’s rouse was working. If you speak to anyone about what happened, you’ll have the truth.

Well this is precisely what we do, Dan, the DS said in a matter of fact tone. Every one of the security staff who arrived on the scene at that time, including those familiar with Annie, have confirmed the same. There seemed to be a very close relationship. Our witnesses collectively formed the view that Annie was extremely fond of her boss. There was no indication of any annoyance or distrust of Mr Zalmer. No record of anything untoward.

Well this is evidence of being untoward, he answered, you`re twisting the truth. I need to speak to a solicitor. I need to make a phone call and I won`t answer any more questions until I’ve spoken to a solicitor.

Of course, Mr McBray, replied the DS. You`re perfectly within your rights to have legal assistance. I believe we had explained that to you at the start of the Interview. However, I think it’s fair to say that we’ve amassed sufficient evidence to substantiate a charge at this stage. Come with us please, Dan.

He followed the men to the station desk where the desk officer read out a document. Dan McBray, you are being charged for the murder of Patson Zalmer on the first of August 1995, at the West London bank. You do not have to say anything when questioned, but it may harm your defence to do so, if you fail to comment on anything that you later choose to rely on in a court of law. Do you understand the charge?

You’re wrong.

Mr McBray, do you understand the charge? repeated the DS.

I understand, he answered. But this was an accident, you’re wrong.

Perhaps you would like to select a provisional duty solicitor from our list of registered practitioners?

I need to call my wife first. After I’ve spoken with her, I`ll know what to do.

Lovely jubbly, replied the DS. We`ll arrange for that in a mo`, no problem whatsoever.

Chapter 3

Daylight dread

You’ve been standing there with that phone now, Dan, without speaking a word, said the tall police officer.

It keeps ringing; I’ll try her mobile, said Dan. Seconds later, his face brightened. Annie, are you alright?

I’m okay, she answered. I was worried about you. Are you still in the police station?

They`ve arrested me and charged me with murder.

Oh for God sakes! They can`t do that!

Well they`ve done it. I can’t believe it’s turned into this. I`ll definitely need a solicitor because there`s no way anyone in this police station believes I`m innocent. I’m in deep trouble here, Annie.

I`m in a taxi with Issacs, we’re going to meet his mother at the port, he’ll be staying with her in Londonderry for a while. They’ll be on a ferry pretty soon, we're approaching Dover.

It's a good idea, said Dan.

Dan, I’m getting stomach cramps from the stress- after all those questions by the police.

Dan sighed, briefly held his head in his hand. What kind of questions were they?

They asked me a load of questions about Zalmer and our work relationship. Then more intimate questions like how I feel about his death? They wanted to know if I ever had any disagreement or complaints about his behaviour, his attitude towards me. I told them I spoke with you, about his attitude towards me. I told them I’m devastated that he`s dead, but he’d become dangerous when he got drunk. I explained how you`d heard me and tried to stop him. All they seemed interested in was if I`d been drinking.

And what did you say?

I told them I had one small glass of champagne which I hadn`t even finished when he tried to overpower me. That`s all they wanted to know, Dan.

He chewed on her words. You didn`t explain to them how he`d ended up with a knife in his chest? Dan asked.

Dan. Annie spoke as though she were warning him. To start with, I don`t know why on earth you came into the office with a knife on you. I told them I didn`t see where the knife came from. Am I to blame for that?

No one`s blaming you, babes. He wiped his face. I forgot that I still had the damned knife on me from fishing.

Dan, I’ve been thinking. I want to let them know that I’m responsible for his death, it was an accident because I shouldn’t have twisted his hand then the knife wouldn’t have—

No! You played no part in it, Annie, I won’t let you do that.

Maybe I could tell them that I brought the knife up and I—

No! One of us in custody is enough, I’m gonna fight this.

I think my mother knows some lawyers who work around London. Her voice became shaky. I`m sure they deal with this type of stuff. I’m going to ask her, just to make sure. Do you have my mother`s home number?

Annie, you know she hates me. She cut you from her will just for marrying me. I’m surprised she’s even accepted her grandson.

Look, I know she’s stuck in her ways. Annie sighed. But my mother can be really helpful when she wants to be. That factory she runs has paid for her house, acres of farmland and that Bentley she loves so much. I still think it’s worth talking to her, Dan. Just take down her number, please.

Hold on, I need to get a pen.

When he returned, the line was dead. Officers escorted him back to his police cell. He lay on the solid bench, covered his face with both hands. He couldn`t seriously believe that Annie`s mother – the miserable Mrs Morris, as he`d often thought her – would have any desire to help.

***

The second night in the police cell, seemed to last forever. The images of his small son protrude into his mind. How would he turn out with his father in prison? Annie would surely leave at some point, he fretted. How would he cope without her?

Chapter 4

Ripe fruit

In the morning, the cell door was unlocked. A police officer turned up holding a plastic tray, laden with a fried breakfast, warm water and tea rations. A towel was chucked onto the cell bench along with a bar of soap.

After you`ve ’ad your shower, began the stocky officer, there`ll be a solicitor here to see you at nine-thirty.

***

Inside the interview room, sat a navy-suited bespectacled man. He locked eyes with Dan, watching him enter the room escorted by several