Sneaky Peek - Behind Closed Doors (a Novella) by Phillip Jordan (release date 27th November 2020)
Delighted to have AN EXCERPT FROM New Release, BEHIND CLOSED DOORS , featuring DI Veronica Taylor, by Phillip Jordan for you today.
Blurb: BEHIND
CLOSED DOORS
A VIOLENT KILLING. A SUSPECT OFFERING NO DEFENCE. AN OPEN AND SHUT CASE
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| Available here |
With the suspect offering no opposition to the charges and with witness testimony and his own violent history stacking up against him, the charge officer deems the case open and shut.
As the victim’s influential Mother pressures her police contacts for a quick resolution and with only one lone dissenting voice speaking out, Taylor must uncover the circumstances leading up to the tragic events that played out BEHIND CLOSED DOORS.
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS is an introduction to Detective Inspector Veronica Taylor and the gripping Belfast crime series.
Explore the historic yet infamous city of Belfast in this lightning-fast police procedural from a new voice in British and Irish crime fiction that will keep you hooked until its shocking conclusion.
An introductory case-file for fans of Ian Rankin, Adrian McKinty, Stuart Neville and JD Kirk and the NETFLIX Series 'THE FALL'
SNEAKY PEEK
ONE
“There’s no clock in here.”
It was an accurate observation. The absence of which prevented a
means to pinpoint and measure the passage of time and served to ratchet up the
acute anxiety Jimmy Harding was feeling.
He slammed a balled fist against the thick plexiglass panel of a door
that had no lock yet couldn’t be opened. The door remained unyielding.
“I need to know about Julie! Is she OK? For God’s sake tell me
something!” he shouted.
He slammed his fist home again. Half-heartedly this time. Resting his
head against the opaque glass. Tears fell down his face.
“You can’t keep me locked in here not knowing.” He slumped against
the door. Rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes. “Please, what about wee
Tommy? He wasn’t breathing. Jesus, he wasn’t breathing.”
Jimmy stalked across the room. Stared at the beady black eye set in
the wall at head height above the only other furniture in the room. A table and
four chairs. Covered panel lights hummed overhead. Ensconced in the smooth dry
lined ceiling.
“Can you hear me?”
He looked into the lens. Red eyed, hair askew and hanging on his last
ragged nerve.
TWO
Detective Inspector Veronica Taylor scanned the charge sheet and glanced up at the large screen that dominated the wall of the observation suite and displayed Interview Room 3.
“Jesus, he wasn’t breathing.”
The voice captured by the AKG boundary microphones in the Interview Room
was relayed in total clarity through the FAP-40T in-ceiling loudspeakers above
her head. The voice that filled the Obs Suite was strained and creaked on the
verge of breakdown.
“I still can’t see why they dragged you in? I’m perfectly capable of
handling something like this myself. It’s hardly one for bloody Inspector
Morse, is it?”
Taylor ignored the comment. Confirming at least the initial paperwork
was in order. Which was something. The suspects face loomed in the screen.
“Can you hear me?”
Taylor slipped the charge sheet into the document folder on the desk
beside the mixing equipment and the Digital Video and Voice Recorders that
monitored the room next door.
“Where’s D.I MacDonald again?” she said.
“Majorca.” Said the other man in the room. Resentment that his DI was
sunning himself in the Balearics while he remained stuck in an unseasonably wet
and miserable Belfast evident in his tone.
Body language suggesting that having his interview gate-crashed was also
an affront to an equal power.
Taylor looked at her watch and then to the subordinate officer
leaning nonchalantly against the door frame.
If CID didn’t work out for him he’d be a good snake oil salesman.
Detective Constable Samuel Simpson liked to believe his nickname, Slick, was
due to his sharp dress sense and the suave sophistication he reserved for
superiors and colleagues of the opposite sex.
Taylor knew however that behind his back any self-respecting WPC and
her own Detective Sergeant Robert Macpherson put it down to his egregious oiliness
and the half tub of hair ointment that slicked his hair into a style he thought
gave him a debonair look.
“Well, have you read enough?” Simpson pointed at the document folder.
His enthusiasm to impress those further up the chain of command not extending
to her.
“Yes. I think it’s time Mister Harding explained his version of
events.”
Simpson scoffed. Smoothed his skinny spotted tie and adjusted the
ostentatious pin that held it in place.
“What’s to explain? Creep shot his wife and child. Had the gun on him
when he was lifted and kept telling anybody would listen that he was sorry. No
brainer, Veronica.”
Taylor pursed her lips.
“Guv will do, DC Simpson. Make sure any additional reports from the
scene or the hospital are legible and accurate when I ask for them. Can you
manage that?”
Simpson glowered and then took a seat at the recording console.
Hitched up his skinny-fit suit trousers to reveal an inch of sun-bed tanned leg
and paisley patterned socks.
“I still don’t see why they dragged you in. This is a hole-in-one.”
Simpson tossed a biro onto his spiral notepad.
Taylor tightened the bobble and pulled her shoulder length chestnut
hair into a sleek ponytail.
“It’s tunnel vision like that got me involved, Slick.” She said.
“No-one wants your lazy thinking turning this
into an Albatross around our necks.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Phillip Jordan was born in Belfast, Northern Ireland and grew up in the city that holds the dubious double honour of being home to Europe's Most Bombed Hotel and scene of its largest ever bank robbery.
He had a successful career in the Security Industry for twenty years before transitioning into the Telecommunications Sector.
Aside from writing Phillip has competed in Olympic and Ironman Distance Triathlon events both Nationally and Internationally including a European Age-Group Championship and the World Police and Fire Games.
Taking the opportunity afforded by recent world events to write full-time Phillip wrote his Debut Crime Thriller, CODE OF SILENCE, finding inspiration in the dark and tragic history of Northern Ireland but also in the black humour, relentless tenacity and Craic of the people who call the fabulous but flawed City of his birth home. Phillip now lives on the County Down coast and is currently writing two novel series.
He also writes The Tom Shepard Series which follows an ex-special forces operator attempting to exact revenge on those responsible for a personal tragedy. Shepard unexpectedly uncovers a deeper conspiracy that puts him on a collision course with a shadowy global consortium responsible for greater injustice and threat than just that which has befallen him.
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