Of All Flesh

OF ALL FLESH A Detective Loxley Nottinghamshire Crime Thriller By A L Fraine The book is Copyright © to Andrew Dobell, Creative Edge Studios Ltd, 2022. No part of this book may be reproduced without prior permission of the copyright holder. All locations, events, and characters within this book are either fictitious, or have been fictionalised for the purposes of this book. Book List https://www.alfraineauthor.co.uk/books Acknowledgements Thank you to Crystal Wren for your amazing editing and support. Thanks to Kath Middleton for her incredible work. A big thank you to the Admins and members of the UK Crime Book Club for their support, both to me and the wider author community. They’re awesome. A big thank you to Meg Jolly and Tom Reid for allowing me to use their names in these novels. I really appreciate it. Thank you also to the Authors I’ve been lucky enough to call friends. You know who you are, and you’re all wonderful people. Thank you to my family, especially my parents, children, and lovely wife Louise, for their unending love and support. Table of Contents Book List Acknowledgements Table of Contents 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 Author Note Book List 1 The churning, roiling waters of the River Trent, several metres below, were the perfect metaphor for what was going on inside Malcom’s head. His thoughts were chaotic, troubled, and crashing through his mind like a tidal wave of pain and regret. He’d had an absolute nightmare of a day, and now he was here, a couple of miles away from home in the middle of the night, with no idea what to do or where to go. Leaning on the railing of the Trent Bridge, with the occasional car driving by behind him, Malcom buried his head in his hands and sobbed, letting out the emotions that had been building up inside. “Oh, God,” he muttered, sniffing and wiping his eyes. Was it too much to ask for, to have a mum who cared and friends who didn’t hate him? He didn’t feel like that was asking for a lot, but he had neither of them right now. Malcom stared out over the river. On his right, the Nottingham Forest football ground stood proudly on the banks of the Trent, but right now, in the depths of the night, it was as quiet as a tomb. Gripping the railing, he closed his eyes and took a long breath. He’d stormed out of the house maybe two hours ago, leaving his mum to deal with her boyfriend, Ernie, alone. He’d had it with their arguments, his violence, and her complete dereliction of duty as a mother. Rather than run after him or come looking for him, she’d probably just opened another bottle or, worse, gone straight to the crack pipe. She didn’t care about him and hadn’t for years now. All she cared about was that next high. It just seemed to be how she dealt with everything in life. When another past-due bill came in, she had a drink. When the food ran out, she sparked up the crack pipe. And when Ernie hurt her again, her chosen coping method was to get as drunk and as high as she could and forget about her life. But that meant she forgot about him too. She wouldn’t be out looking for him, she wouldn’t call the police, she just didn’t care enough. He’d stayed out before, at a friend's house or whatever, and she’d never batted an eyelid. A small part of him hoped that today would be different. When they started fighting tonight, and Ernie started hurting her, he’d jumped in to help. Ernie punched him in the face for his trouble. That had been Malcom’s breaking point, and he’d stormed out, fed up with his mum, his friends, and his life. He wanted out. Out of that house, out of the Hyson Green estate, and out of this city. But he was fifteen, and it simply wasn’t that easy. He’d seen what some of the other kids his age and younger were doing to make money. There was no way he was getting involved in the gangs. It was far too dangerous, and no matter how much he wanted to earn more money to buy the things he wanted, there was no way he was going to do that. On the one hand, it looked glamorous and alluring with the stacks of cash, the new trainers and new phones. But these trinkets hid a life of danger and violence that Malcom had no interest in at all. He knew friends that had disappeared for days and then turned up beaten and bruised or worse, all because they’d been seduced by the 'Trap Life’ as they referred to it. No, that wasn’t for him. He wanted out of the life he was in, but drug dealing was not the way. The right way was to work hard at school and stay away from those idiots, but that was easier said than done. Turning away from the water, Malcom continued south over the Trent Bridge, recalling the day he’d had with his mates in the park. Jordan was nice enough, as usual, although he was too easily led by Zeke. Malcom sighed. He never quite knew where he stood with Zeke. One moment he was his best mate, laughing and joking, and the next moment he was being an abusive, racist bigot and getting Jordan and Angel to side with him. Things had got a little out of hand today, with Zeke turning on him for some perceived slight that was just stupid. But when he decided he wasn’t taking Zeke’s shit and