Short stories, Hot Topics and relevant information on Music and the Arts! The official Blog page for Bodederek.com seeking to educate, entertain and inform. We invite aspiring writers to showcase their talent here. Read short stories for free here!
Stories are all works of fiction. Names, characters, place and events are the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events and places is totally coincidental
Stories are all works of fiction. Names, characters, place and events are the product of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events and places is totally coincidental
4
Fafo stared hard at the charm that seems to have taken on a mischievous life of it's own. The many events that now seemed to have had a bearing on this thing that he now holds in his hands, had become too numerous to dismiss as coincidence.
The open and shut case that both the Customs people and the police thought they had, almost disintegrated before their very eyes. The lead detective charged with prosecuting Fafo suffered a nervous breakdown. Detective Sergeant Eric Fisher's problems began, when an urgent report came in stating that the contraband stored as evidence in a supposedly secure police bonded warehouse was gradually diminishing in size.
Almost half of the exhibit had somehow vanished; no one could explain why, so Sgt. Fisher's credibility came under scrutiny. When his superiors started to suspect and accuse him of tampering with the evidence, Sgt. Fisher promptly quit and had to be replaced. Further delays came at the committal stage when the new officer in charge failed to show up to court on the actual date that this case was to be referred to the Crown Court. His only child had been killed in a hit and run incident that very morning.
Meanwhile, Fafo stayed on remand longer than was usual. Of course various interviews were carried out with him by investigators who suspected that maybe Fafo had people on the outside who were proactively engineering the various calamities happening. All they got out of Fafo were the usual mumbles which made no sense to any of them.
The evidence kept shrinking, suspicion reigned as an air of distrust developed amongst the investigators, technicians, customs and even the judiciary. The prosecution, customs and the police quickly regrouped, consolidated the remaining evidence and the depositions to preserve what was left of their open and shut case. At the same time they were doing this, the charm had mysteriously disappeared from around Fafo's neck.
5
Fafo got ready for court with mixed feelings, relief on the one hand that the process had begun, he would at least know what his fate would be. Hopefully he might even get a result. His barrister seemed a smart fellow who looked capable of literally pulling the proverbial rabbit out of a hat. He was also apprehensive that he might, on the other hand, get the proverbial book thrown at him; which was what happened in the end.
At least with the start of the trial, the feeling that he was in limbo would cease. So smartly dressed, watered and fed by the prison guards, he hopped into the van with a spring in his step. He was happy as the van sped through the quiet english countryside. Looking out of his little cubicle he drank in the view, envied those that he saw quietly going about their daily business. The view from his mobile cell was enchanting, especially the shop signs and the brightly coloured clothes on those he saw, seemed even more colourful, at least compared to the drab prison environment that had been his home for quite a while now.
He felt an itch around his neck and scratched under his collar. The shock when he felt the leather string hanging there, almost made him faint. The charm had returned, and this time it seemed to be radiating some kind of mild energy; pulsating and throbbing. He swallowed his panic, replaced it with a kind of hope, if he could only remember the incantations he was taught verbatim, he might still be able to control this thing that was fast becoming a millstone around his neck.
In court, while locked in the basement cells of the courthouse, he tried to remove the string from around his neck, unfortunately the harder he tried, the more the string dug into his neck and began to hurt. Fed up, he grabbed the pouch itself in an attempt to yank the thing from around his neck. The searing pain went from his palm and shot up his arm. It felt like he had grabbed a red hot piece of burning coal. Fafo screamed!
Continued soon!
'Bodederek
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