This is the 62nd story of the life and career of Murder Squad Detective Joseph Lind.
This also is the first Novel-length story where our Detective finds himself without his partner Detective Shelley Anne Shields who, mid-way through a complex murder announces she prefers motherhood over the partnership role she has happily experienced with Detective Lind for so many years. This places her in a position she has so long cherished, while feeling guilty as she severs the ties of her long-loved career for a role in motherhood through the adoption of a boy and girl.
A shooting death of the CEO of the unlawful Fallen Angels Motorcycle Bikie gang occurs which is no surprise for many. Everyone holds their collective breaths waiting for the revenge attack which when it comes, the CEO and his Number Two of the White Skulls are killed. Both attacks not the normal assassination manner of the Boyz…and neither is the method of disposal.
Could it be there is a higher power above the Bikie gangs pulling strings that constantly concerns and confuses the Detectives involved. Without his loyal partner of some fifteen years, Detective Lind’s investigatory skills are questioned.
Detective Lind accepts the attempts to partner him with a fresh faced young Detective-in-training straight from the Academy who is yet to gain her Detective ID. Sophie Grasso has a lot to learn, not the least her acceptance of the grumpy old Joseph Lind and his unusual style of investigation.
A hard pill to swallow for both persons.
He knew he was dying.
He had confirmation of that from the people who had examined him last week. Sticking swabs up his nose so deep, he thought they were going for a brain sample! He had received the results via an SMS… for a man facing death how bloody impersonal and rude is that! A bloody SMS to tell him he was dying!
“Sorry sir, but I have to sadly inform you, you have tested Covid-19 positive. Stay at home for the next fourteen days…get some-one to help with your groceries and medicines from the Chemist for you as you are restricted to your house for the next fourteen days. If you are found to break that self-isolation, you could find yourself in Jail or billeted in a Hotel of the Government’s choice with all monies owing for that choice to be met by yourself and/or the payment of a hefty fine. If your condition worsens, call for an Ambulance”.
How bloody inhumane is that…she sadly informing him he was walking in the shadow of death…she didn’t know him from a bar of soap and would have sent off similar SMS’s countless times…but she feels sad at giving such advice to a faceless person!
How bloody condescending is that!!
That’s all very well if you had some-one to do your chores and shopping for you. He had begun to go inward a long time ago. Those that hung on, eventually accepted his aloof manner and snide remarks as his usual carry-on and after a brief period, would cut ties with him. They voluntarily divorced themselves from his ‘orbit’, leaving him ‘mate-less’ with no-one around to help him out…their fault, he would often murmur.…bloody mates, he would scold! If they were true mates they would have stuck to him like glue…he incapable of blaming himself for the situation. It being their fault showing him they were not true mates! And family!! Don’t even mention them as he had divorced himself from them a long time ago.
A twisted outlook that didn’t help his opinion of life or people…merely confirming what he shouted for years. As you got older, the more isolated you became…and no bastard was going to rectify that situation. Fix it himself? Not on your bloody life as he didn’t have the gumption to rectify anything!
He had no-one…how do you tell the people who may be able to help him that he needed help. That original message was an automated SMS with the final prompt saying that there was a no-reply attachment to that message. As if those so diagnosed didn’t have a question or two on their coming death! Those voiceless people remaining hidden behind that cloud that they called the ethernet not even wanting to help the poor sod slipping into oblivion.
‘An immense help’, he grunted as he again read the SMS.
He made an appointment to see his GP…again it was something he had voluntarily ceased some time ago.
Because of his age, he should immediately self-isolate, the Doctor said gravely, looking over his spectacles as though dealing with a naughty boy. He was told impolitely and with a degree of snootiness that he should not have come into the Surgery! Tut-tut, he felt that his GP should know of his coming demise, he thought, a little perplexed at his attitude…a telephone call was more prudent. How could the old conger diagnose anything at all over the phone. He was vague at the best of times… ring him when things got any worse and as he worsened, he should ring for an Ambulance.
None of this come back and see me in three weeks! He figured that this was serious stuff…death within weeks. It could either be a mild case or one that brought him to his knees.
However, the Doctor’s demeanour stated that death was the next step for him.