Chapter 5 - The Meeting, Part 3

Note: to go to start of SEA DOGS click on the very first post
The Beginning; Prologue - The Attic

Chapter 5
The Meeting
Part 3

Jenkins as a result of the approach had sought his friend Higgins’ advice on the matter. Many times before Billy Jenkins had been duped into such meetings, only to find later that it was either some cheap newspapers ploy of obtaining information to twist & use against him, or it was amateurs that built up his hopes without foundation. There were also the sympathizers & the nuts that wrote to him. Some were women who even proposed marriage. Many of the sick letters he received he submitted to the governor, who was in turn supposed to pass them on to the CID for further investigation. Unknown to Jenkins the majority ended their days at the bottom of the governor’s waste paper bin.

There had also been written approaches made by prominent writers & doctors of this & professors of that requesting audiences before, but none were able to grab the attention of Higgins like that of the correspondence received from Dr. Hodgkins. It was true to say that Dr. Peter Hodgkins was a public figure, but it was more than this that struck a note. It was as if he had inside information. There was an edge to his letters which implied he had access to information that Jenkins had long forgotten. It was only after he had written that Billy was reminded of it. How was this possible? This intrigued the friends that shared cell number 58. So a meeting had been agreed, but only in Higgins’ presence, for he wished to test the Doctor’s conviction.

    The old partitioned interview room was small & shabby. The four men sat in silence at either end of the tabled surface. Separating them was a reinforced Perspex screen, specially constructed for visitors of category “A” prisoners years before. It would be an understatement to say that the room was in desperate need of redecoration. However, demolition & perhaps a rebuild would be more like it, thought Stark as he observed the shabby room from his uncomfortable chair, before facing forward to focus on the scratched Perspex & beyond. Stark observed that the years had not been kind to Billy Jenkins. He sat head hung, slouched in the chair directly opposite, only glancing up on odd occasions, as if to confirm his very existence, to reconnect with the outside world for short periods before drifting away again. He looked drawn & tired. His pale face & lined forehead were concealed slightly by a long greasy fringe, parted in the middle, which hung like curtains.
In contrast to this, Higgins sat bolt upright in his chair next to Jenkins, opposite Stark’s comrade Peter Hodgkins. Peter appeared as professional as per normal, with his pens & note books arranged neatly in front of him on the surface. Higgins’ shoulder length brown hair was swept back behind his ears & his piercing grey eyes alert & inquisitive. Dressed in a pressed navy blue prison uniform, which was immaculate in comparison to Jenkins’s scruffiness, he looked ready for business.

A very special occasion indeed, for it was not usual for two category “A” prisoners to be present at the same visit, in the same room. Extra security had been arranged to ensure there were no problems, because of this. It helped greatly that both inmates were well behaved. So much so that Higgins’s classification was up for renewal, which could have led to his eventual relocation if it continued. This type of evaluation was an on-going prison service process, which in addition to its cost cutting aims was supposed to alleviate problems of overcrowding, but, due to the ever increasing numbers of convicts, was never realized. Higgins’ relocation was OK theoretically, but because Jenkins would never be allowed the privilege, it could one day pose the Governor the discomfort of choice.

Hodgkins inhaled deeply & then began, as the four prison warders looked on.


Written by T.R.Vinnicombe (aka Dr. Peter Hodgkins) ©2009 all rights reserved & none of the contents of this site can be copied or used in any way without the written consent of the author. Published online by MicroHotStar 2009.

Chapter 5 - The Meeting, Part 2

Note: to go to start of SEA DOGS click on the very first post
The Beginning; Prologue - The Attic

Chapter 5
The Meeting
Part 2

Soon the car slowed, & the mist cleared, as it entered the 30 mile an hour speed limit of the small town, which was situated on the upper featureless wastes of Dartmoor. Every single house that they passed was built of imposing grey granite, that collectively implied tough, fortress-like togetherness, as if to parameterize a mystic kingdom. However, it wasn’t hard to imagine that on dark stormy days, or grey misty mornings that this place could be mistaken for hell on earth, by some, whilst others admired it’s cruel beauty. Today, thankfully, there was a break in such weather.

                     The few locals that walked the roadside pavements, as the sun peered down on them through gaps in wispy cloud, were by contrast colourfully dressed, as if to deny there somewhat grim surroundings. In some cases they stood out like exotic birds of paradise, loud against the greyness, rebellious with cause. Especially the sprinkling of youths, with their silent, yet colourful, cry for escape, from the town they were born into without choice.
                     It happened that most of the town's folk worked, or had family members that worked for the town’s principle employer & its premises loomed over each & every other building present castle-like; So much so that every road lead to its front gates, except that this was no fairy tale kingdom!

    The infamous Princetown prison, better known in some parts as Dartmoor prison, was built during the Napoleonic wars & was originally used to incarcerate French prisoners. It has been home to murderers, terrorists, bank robbers & some say ghosts, since. The armed bank robber John McVicar, once termed “public enemy number one”, was an inmate there in the past. Reformed he is now an author, but during his spell at Dartmoor he was at his most intimidating. Jailed during the sixties, at his height he chilled the blood of many a warder & fellow inmate, even from behind steel bars. Rumour had it that his disruptiveness & imposing attitude lead to a deal that was designed to quell his misbehavior. Whether it was true or not, it involved visits to the local pub, under police escort, on special occasions, such as birthdays!
Anyway, long before McVicar’s time & long since he’d left, there were others who boasted that they had survived the place. However, it is interesting to know that many of the convicts, that are on record as having escaped, had either been recaptured on the roads, or had perished on the moor! Dartmoor was also the fictional location of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Baskervilles Hall & you’d be forgiven for believing that it was possible for hounds from hell to roam these parts. The story after all was based on local legend! Therefore, I guess you get the picture? It’s not a place for the weak hearted.

    Stark parked in the visitors car park & after locking the vehicle the pair made their way to the gated entrance. On arrival they were greeted at the guard house & asked to present ID, before being searched.

Prior to their visit Hodgkins had written many letters & made many telephone calls to enable the meeting. He had managed to convince Jenkins that the visit was more than just research for a novel, & that a genuine attempt would be made to unearth fresh evidence. Obviously he stressed in the letters that he hoped that it could perhaps lead to an appeal with some chances of success, if they were lucky enough to force the re-opening of the original closed case.


Written by T.R.Vinnicombe (aka Dr. Peter Hodgkins) ©2009 all rights reserved & none of the contents of this site can be copied or used in any way without the written consent of the author. Published online by MicroHotStar 2009.

Chapter 5 - The Meeting, Part 1

Note: to go to start of SEA DOGS click on the very first post

The Beginning; Prologue - The Attic

Chapter 5
The meeting
Part 1

As they neared their destination the two men could now see, at firsthand, why this desolate location was perfect. For there really was no place to run!

    A mist hung, like a shroud, over the moor as Stark’s Jaguar manoeuvred the windy roads. Granite tors, as if stacked by giants long ago, but shaped, eroded by wind & rain, formed the distant skyline. Beautiful, but all the same, unforgiving & merciless should any stranger stray from path on foot in bad weather. Lose your way in those conditions, in these parts, & you lost your life.

Along the small roads, which climbed to higher ground, flanked on either side by heather & bracken, they continued. The way was broken every now & then by narrow stone bridges over bubbling brooks & streams that rushed away at speed & ghostly empty check points that were rarely utilized. Sheep & ponies dotted the hills, but eerily not a single tree grew on the high ground. The only shelter from the harsh winds that in winter could cut a man in two, were the old Celtic towers, the Tors. To begin with there had been small woods & copses in the approaching valleys, but they had long since given up their cover as the car approached the 600 meter mark.

    The two men were best friends since their days at university. They had roomed together & in most instances shared similar interests. Whilst Hodgkins’ career in medicine had deviated from psychiatric studies to criminal psychology, Stark’s had gone the whole hog from medicine to law enforcement. Throughout this steady transition they had remained close; each unintentionally influencing the other’s destiny.
   
Twenty six year old Doctor Peter Hodgkins stood 5’ 11 & was of slim build. His mousy coloured brown hair was swept to one side, preventing his boyish long fringe from dangling into his brown eyes. He wore studious looking steel rimmed glasses, round in shape, that made him look professor-like, dressed in his customary tweed jacket. He had dressed & looked that way for as long as Stark could remember, ever since they had met. His accent, like his complexion, was clear, but refined. He originated from Cheltenham, middle class in upbringing, much like his friend.

An only child, he had lost his parents after they were killed in a plane crash over the Swiss Alps, when he was nineteen. It happened whilst he was attending University & his roommate of the time -Stark helped him through his grief. In the process their relationship had strengthened to near brotherhood. These days he was recognized most often by strangers in the street, due to his phenomenal success as a writer. He was the Author of three best selling criminal thrillers to date, all of which featured his portrait on the inside back cover. The publisher had suggested it originally, but Hodgkins had not anticipated the level of success that he would achieve at such a young age & more recently it had become a little laborious to say the least. He had decided that he would limit the problem by ensuring that there was no such photo included in his next publication.
             More importantly, Hodgkins was considered to be a leader in his field of expertise & much sought after. He was not just an author, nor a pretty face. His success had enabled him the luxury to pick & choose cases, as he pleased, in between lecturing home & abroad. On this particular occasion the subject was of a more personal nature & he, & Stark had been working on it during their spare time, on & off for the last 3 years. As well as it aiding his friends cause, he reasoned that it could also one day be used as veiled subject matter for some future novel; -with Stark’s consent of course. However, due to its controversy & that it crossed over into their professional domain, it was particularly dangerous, especially for Stark. Therefore it was necessary for them to tread with care, knowing that when the time was right that they could disclose anything that they might find, which could be of use, in the event of the case ever being re-opened. It occurred to Stark that, at this point in time, such a possibility seemed a long, long way off.

Written by T.R.Vinnicombe (aka Dr. Peter Hodgkins) ©2009 all rights reserved & none of the contents of this site can be copied or used in any way without the written consent of the author. Published online by MicroHotStar 2009

Chapter 4 Higgins & Jenkins Part 4

Note: to go to start of SEA DOGS click on the very first post

The Beginning; Prologue - The Attic

Chapter 4

Higgins & Jenkins
Part 4

Christened, William Deacon Jenkins, but known as plain Billy, he was born simple. Not simple enough to warrant special treatment, or education (even if his poor Mother could have possibly afforded it). No, he was simple enough so as to limit his worldly understanding. Indeed, Billy was not the cleverest, but what he lacked in terms of normality he gained in other less obvious ways. He was a boy in a man’s mould.

Although he had never met him & his Mother had chosen never to tell, Billy Jenkins was the image of his father. Blond wavy hair, a light completion, with high cheek bones, it all contributed to his blue eyed good looks. Looks which had tricked his Mother into conceiving him, against her will, in the first place. Some of the reason she never talked of his father’s resemblance was because she hated it! It reminded her of the pain of the rape & the birth.

He was born in 1948, three years after the war, a bastard, of which he was constantly reminded by the other kids in his neighbourhood & at school. Growing up had been difficult.
“Billy Bastard”, they’d call at him in the street. Sometimes they’d stretch it to
“Billy-the-stupid-bastard!” Being that little bit stupid however had helped him to get through his ordeal though.
     He had originally lived on the outskirts of Bockford, in an old stone cottage, with his Mother. They had rented it from Oden Foster, before his son Johnny had inherited the farm after his death. Later they moved on to Highgreen, which was nearer the city.

So you see that even from a young age, Billy had always been a target & an easy one at that.

Billy Jenkins by contrast to his friend Higgins, had been sent to the prison directly after sentencing at the Old Bailey, in blaze of publicity. He was given 13 life sentences for mass murder, the Judge remarking before his departure,

“Whilst some may call this a modern day disorder & others may point to insanity as a reason; I, for one, believe personally that you William Deacon Jenkins & your kind are a cancer that I hope will one day be cured, wiped from the earth! The sentence I have passed is the severest I have available to me. You have left a blood curdling path of death caused by monstrous acts that are straight from hell!    ....You have taken women in the prime of their lives, causing pain & suffering of an indescribable nature, not only to the poor victims you tortured to death, but to their families you have decimated in your wake!
.....Therefore you will be taken directly from this court & you will be transported, under police custody, to the highest security prison of its kind in the land. A place where you will be held at her Majesty’s pleasure, with other beasts of your kind, until you die! I will, I hasten to add, see to it personally that you never set foot outside again, as long as you live!
May the demons, that you’re obviously in league with, forever haunt you until your eventual death in prison & god willing,


Written by T.R.Vinnicombe (aka Dr. Peter Hodgkins) ©2009 all rights reserved & none of the contents of this site can be copied or used in any way without the written consent of the author. Published online by MicroHotStar 2009.

It's been a long time... since Rock n Roll!

Hi!

I'm sorry that I've been away such a long time!

All kinds of things have been happening, like appearances on TV, but that's another story.

Anyway here's a couple of other things that fill my time (see links below).
I must also add that I didn't mean to leave anyone hanging... particularly Stark & James & with me just about to join the plot!! I will post the next installment of SEA DOGS shortly...

The next part is particularly Sir Arthur Conan Doyle-ish, with a big influence from Hound of the Baskervilles.

Bye for now...... & 1 ... & a 2....& a 3.... hit it!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3hxZZyqzYck

http://zenniva2.com/en/index.html

Chapter 4 Jenkins & Higgins, part 3

Note: to go to start of SEA DOGS click on the very first post
The Beginning; Prologue - The Attic

Higgins felt sudden relief & walked from the room passed the terrified secretary who had wet herself & was hiding under her desk. The stench of fresh urine, mixed with a waft of gun smoke that had followed him out, filled the air as the secretary sobbed. Higgins was obvious to all of it as he went. Elated, as death hung in the air, it felt as if this act was his sole contribution to mankind; a matter of destiny to rid the world of such a man. To be honest if you had ever met Waspmen you would have probably agreed!

Later at the murder trial the Judge had uttered some words of sympathy concerning his predicament. The massive loss of his wife, who had been 8 months pregnant, had no doubt affected him immensely, causing irreparable damage. However, the Judge conceded that his atrocious act of murder, which claimed the life of Leon Waspmen was one of the worst he had ever witnessed the description of in court during his years. Without mercy Higgins had taken the life of an unarmed man in the bloodiest manner imaginable. Waspmen’s secretary, who had entered the room in shock soon after Higgins had calmly left the building, was still in hospital heavily sedated, the Judge informed. The Police on arrival described what they termed as “a scene from a slaughter house, a blood bath.” Higgins’ lawyer pushed for a plea of diminished responsibility & the Judge awarded a charge of premeditated murder, instead of man slaughter, as hoped. So Tony Higgins was sentenced to a life term & sent to the psychiatric wing of Exeter prison initially.

During his short spell at Exeter he claimed that he was provoked after he assaulted a warder. He was placed in solitary confinement for three months, after which his aggressive somewhat irrational behaviour escalated, with more punishment to follow. Without repent, even after multiple warnings from the prison Governor, he was eventually transferred to the nearest high security prison. The Governor’s patience had been tried once too often & now it was to be the end of the line for him!
                On transfer his induction to his new home was carried out in the ancient C Wing. It was considered by many of the authoritarians in the prison, to be a good way of welcoming new inmates to the harsh reality of life there. Without sanitation & electricity, the single cells were indescribably bad. Many times there had been recommendations made by The Board of Visitors, when accessing the prison’s living conditions, that C Wing, still Victorian in nature, should be immediately closed. Due to government spending, or the lack of it, this of course never happened. After two weeks Higgins was moved to F-Wing, on his 40th birthday. Although it was a terrible Wing its advantages over the infamous C Wing were that there were shared cells, with modern amenities, psychiatric help & it allowed more contact with the staff & other convicts alike. This is where Higgins met Jenkins for the first time & soon after they were paired together in the same cell, which resulted in them becoming close; for it didn’t take Higgins long before he realised the need to protect his new found friend. The decency in Higgins shone like a beacon.

CLICK HERE to jump to the next installment of SEA DOGS.         
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Written by T.R.Vinnicombe (aka Dr. Peter Hodgkins) ©2009 all rights reserved & none of the contents of this site can be copied or used in any way without the written consent of the author. Published online by MicroHotStar 2009.

 

 

Chapter 4 Jenkins & Higgins, part 2

Note: to go to start of SEA DOGS click on the very first post
The Beginning; Prologue - The Attic

Chapter 4
Higgins & Jenkins

 

Tony John Higgins had originally sought promotion, but instead he had received what many would consider to be unfair treatment.
                      His MD was a horrible, slippery, little weasel of a man called Waspmen. And it wasn’t through lack of experience, or education that Higgins’s name was excluded from the short list of interviewee’s for the technical job; for he had more than what was required for the position. It was simply down to Waspmen’s discretion. In addition to this Higgins had sadly lost his pregnant wife, some six-months earlier, in a car crash & everyone including the MD knew it.
                      After Tony had asked for a meeting to clear the air & it was granted, a date & a time was set. However, from the outset, it was plainly obvious to him that it was going to be more of a pre-planned belittlement than a career discussion. After all it was what this gutless little man enjoyed most; for it was Waspman’s greatest pleasure to the point of orgasm, to wield his power over helpless employees, but not all. Only the ones whom he disliked, for no particular reason other than they were either too strong or too weak, were allotted such treatment. These included people (women in this number) that, because of his callousness, were reduced to tears, who would under normal bar-room circumstances crush him like a fly. The style of leadership he employed was therefore an abuse of his position, due to his own egotistic insecurities. (More of a Waspmen-pleasure than a company benefit.) Anyway, after the first talk had remained unresolved, ( or should I say, after Waspmen had had his fun) a second meeting was arranged exactly two weeks later & Higgins had made his mind up that enough was enough.
                 Soon into the second meeting it was noticeable that he never flinched, or squirmed in his seat as the verbal onslaught commenced; well... not as Waspmen had hoped for anyway. To Waspmen’s annoyance Higgins remained calm & collected, perhaps a little too calm the tormentor thought for a blink & then it was gone. Higgins even looked to be smirking at him as he blazed; even after Waspmen had made it clear that his career was at a dead-end & that no reference would be issued to aid him in his search for other work. Never-the-less Waspmen continued on, claiming that the CV Higgins presented before him, on request, was a concocted set of lies, when the names & contact details of valid referees were present & clear on the bottom of the last page. Obviously Waspmen was looking for a conflict, any excuse to perhaps even fire him, Higgins concluded. In truth it was just the MD’s sick & demented pleasure. It was therefore apparent that Tony Higgins was trapped with no way forward & no reasonable way out of the company, for the chances of saving his once-promising career without a reference from his currently employer was limited to say the very least.  Higgins was indeed smirking, but not only in expression for inside he knew that a surprise of a life time awaited this wanker-of-a-man; for he understood that Waspmen had inflicted the same treatment on many a poor employee in years gone by & now it was payback time.
               
Trivial as it may seem, it was well known that Waspmen was an avid Lou Reed fan. He had mentioned it once when he was being interviewed for the company magazine & they published it afterwards. However Higgins, on numerous occasions since had been forced to wonder what the fuck Lou Reed would make of such a fucking idiot, if he was ever unlucky enough to meet him, let alone learn of his existence.

    So Higgins, who was sat directly opposite Waspmen, just as the meeting seemed to be drawing to its predictable yet unacceptable close, -inappropriately (or so it seemed) began to whistle.     

 “Are you listening to me man?” bellowed Waspmen from across his desk.
“Are you completely crazy? Wait, ... isn’t that... yes, you’re whistling “A walk on the wild side” aren’t you?” He questioned, as a puzzled expression was soon replaced by a broad yellow-toothed, sick smile.

Higgins had decided that the tune would be appropriate, having played out the scenario, over & over in his head during the last few days which had lead up to the final meeting.  Pre-planned he was primed for his moment of truth.

Before Waspmen had time to utter another word, let alone see it coming (after he had been initially distracted), Higgins in one fell swoop pulled the sawn off shot gun out from under his donkey jacket & blasted it at point blank range, decorating the wall paper & book cases behind with pieces of the MD’s brains & fragments of his skull. Taken to the brink & passed, without his family & with his career in tatters, there really was no other option left, he reasoned as he calmly stood & walked towards the door.

To jump to the next installment of SEA DOGS click on this link.

Written by T.R.Vinnicombe (aka Dr. Peter Hodgkins) ©2009 all rights reserved & none of the contents of this site can be copied or used in any way without the written consent of the author. Published online by MicroHotStar 2009