Roskov, Book 1 by Wolak Geoff

Author:Wolak, Geoff
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-05-08T00:00:00+00:00

A cold day in hell

The following Monday afternoon, and the lady reporter popped in, in tears. ‘Gladys is dead. Murdered.’

Julie, myself, and my uncle stood shocked.

She added, her voice going, ‘They robbed her.’

I glanced at my uncle. ‘What the fuck happened to this town?’ I quietly snarled. Facing the reporter, I told her, ‘I’d like to be at the funeral.’

She nodded, and she said nothing more as she walked out.

I slumped, and blew out. ‘I should have got a few pupils in with her.’

‘Not your fault,’ Julie angrily pointed out. ‘Fucking police should do something, make the streets safe!’

‘Be a cold day in hell before that happens.’

That night my parents were shocked, and afraid - we lived just three streets away, and at 9pm a knock came at the door; the police.

I let them in. The same tall officer as before began, ‘I know you were close to Gladys, and we all saw it in the papers, but … just to say we got DNA and prints, and we have the little bastard, drug addict.’

I nodded, a look exchanged with my father. ‘Always. House burglars need money for a fix.’

The officer added, ‘He … smashed her up pretty badly, when he could have just robbed her. Some anger there, the drugs maybe.’

‘Will the body be held?’

‘Yes, the funeral will be delayed a week or two, it’s a serious murder charge. Same man robbed two other houses, we have the prints.’

Thanking them, I led them out, a chat on the pavement as Bonza walked up.

With the police in their car he asked, ‘Trouble?’

‘Gladys.’

‘I visited her a few times,’ he angrily stated, wanting to kill someone with his bare hands. ‘Had a cup of tea now and then, and my mum got to know her.’

‘They got the guy, druggy.’

‘Fucking druggies,’ he spat out as I led him inside. He could see the look on my parents’ faces. ‘I wanna kill someone!’

‘You and me both,’ my father responded. ‘When I was a kid, this street was safe, we left our doors open.’

My mother wiped a tear with the back of her hand. ‘We’ll retire someplace away from here.’

‘I’ll have the money by then, I can help you buy a nice place. So … start looking. You liked the village, Crockton.’

My father put in, ‘Hundred and twenty thousand, three bedrooms, nice big gardens.’

‘I can help with that, I have a shit load of money on the way. What’s this worth?’

‘Sixty thousand at best.’

Bonza faced me, ‘Next weekend, Labour Party meeting.’

‘I’ll be there. Remind me.’

Head low, he headed out, and I had a call to make to Stockholm. Rolf answered. I began, ‘It’s me and … I have some bad news, but … I need to tell you because it may be in the newspapers here.’

‘What happened?’ came a worried man.

‘The old lady you visited with me … a burglar, a drug addict, he … beat her to death.’

‘Oh dear god.’

‘Let the girls know, because they may see it in the news here.’

‘I … I will yes.

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