Stories and Paintings
“Thank you, Mr Speaker. “My fellow members of parliament, as elected officials, it is our duty to represent our constituents and their best interests with honesty and courage. I wish to draw attention today to a glaring failure of that duty—my own. But it is not only my own. There are many other... Continue Reading →
I assumed this whole British-mafia-boss-coming-to-murder-my-best-friend thing was one of LaShawn’s odd jokes. I don’t always get jokes. I stared at him, awaiting an explanation, but he just nodded, then went and crouched between two nearby bushes and looked about in the fallen leaves and dirt like he was trying to find a lost contact... Continue Reading →
Yesterday afternoon, justice buried its head in the sand as London crime kingpin, Jimmy O’Shea, was released from prison. He had served just eight months of his eight-year sentence for money laundering and arson. Aside from his proven crimes, O’Shea (a.k.a. Biscuits) is also suspected of drug dealing, bribery, assault, robbery, match fixing,... Continue Reading →
Scotland Yard chief, Giuseppe Mellow, was found dead yesterday in an abandoned dance studio in Chelsea. Local breakdance crew leader, William “Groove Wizard” Atkinson (who asked to be named), made the gruesome discovery around 9am. Mellow had sustained injuries including multiple gunshot and knife wounds, third degree burns, partial disembowelment and beheading. Despite an apparent... Continue Reading →
St Gavin’s Cathedral, Norwich, England, 29th May 1999. Two tuxedo-clad groomsmen discussing football, three flower girls admiring their own pink dresses, and a stressed out woman trying to fasten a bow tie to the collar of a squirming page boy occupied a small room to the side of the church entrance. The father of the... Continue Reading →
A dockside office in Grimsby, 12th March 1999. Two men in tracksuits—one black and one red—stood waiting in the dim moonlight seeping through the window. “This is a bad idea,” said the man in the black tracksuit, in between biting his thumbnail. “We should have run as soon as it happened.” The man in the... Continue Reading →
A small apartment in Grimsby, England, 1995. “I swear to God, I can get the money! I just need a few more days.” “You agreed to have the money last Friday.” “I know, I know. But I can get it.” “Terry already gave you another week to pay him back. And now you’re saying you... Continue Reading →
After we passed through customs, Rory said he was peckish, so he and I stopped at a little airport coffee shop plastered with Italian flags and paintings of the Colosseum, called Caffè di Venezia. Rory ordered a ham and cheese croissant, Vegemite toast, bacon and eggs and an orange juice; I ordered a chocolate milkshake.... Continue Reading →
A dockside office in Grimsby, England, 1992. “So, you’re the fella Gavin’s been tellin’ me about. Done all that mischief up in Halifax, yeah? How old are you, kid?” “Old enough.” “Hmm.” “I’m looking for work.” “Well, I got plenty of work on. But I don’t give jobs to just anyone. I’m lookin’ for the... Continue Reading →
It is almost fifty years since Mario Puzo’s classic tale of a fictional New York crime family hit bookstores, and it remains as popular today as it was then. It’s not hard to see why. Early in the story we are brought to a wedding scene. The bride is Connie Corleone, daughter of the crafty... Continue Reading →
