Read Stark Contrasts (An Adam Stark novel Book 1) for Free Online

from anything else, he would  really like to be able to pop round and see his Ma without having to book a flight or sit on a train for six hours.
    Snapping out of his torpor, he noticed how late it was, and decided to hit the hay.
    Stark turned out the light and pulled the duvet up to his chin; back to sleeping alone...for now. That wasn't the problem preventing him dropping off though. It was the case. The sadism seemed so at odds with the social conscience being proclaimed. It also amazed him that there were no witnesses. The killer must be so careful, precise...
    Stark also worried about the moment the excreta connected with the whirly thing. The moment when the press got hold of it. Up until now, no journalist had made the connection between the mutilation of Dwayne Clements and the murder of Ernie Martin and, as yet, no-one from the department had been tempted to leak it. However, it wouldn't be long before the lure of financial recompense proved too great for some low ranking clerk or beat cop to resist. He couldn't blame them really. Then again, the most likely source of information would be this self-appointed moral crusader. Whoever he was, he'd gone to the trouble of leaving messages intended for mass consumption; the fact they'd hitherto gone unpublicised would be unlikely to meet with his approval. All this effort would be for nought if he didn't get his message out to a much wider audience than a couple of cops and a forensic team.  
    Stark drifted into sleep and a strange dream about Lara Katz seducing him in a distinctly sadomasochistic fashion. Not his first choice of kink if truth be told but, for Katz, he'd give it a bash - literally.

9. A Bad Call
     
    I'm no different to the next man in many ways. I enjoy a beer, sports and a posh meal with the wife once in a while. She's my second wife as it happens. The first one left me, taking my son with her, but sometimes these things work out for the best. I get access and our relationship is amicable and cooperative as far as the lad goes. To be fair to number one, I wasn't as faithful as I should've been. It's a behavioural problem I really should've grown out of by now. I don't know what makes me find monogamy so difficult to achieve – even when I'm deeply in love.
    The current Mrs and me have a  favourite restaurant but it's a bit pricey. Actually, it's frigging extortionate and we can hardly ever afford to go there. When we do, it's for something really special like our anniversary, or a worryingly significant birthday. This time it was due to her promotion at work. She's the brains of the operation. And the beauty.
    As restaurants go, it's a fairly big place; set across two floors, with a mix of open tables and more intimate booths. It is at once modern and traditional but extremely nicely done. I suspect it cost a whole heap of cash to get it kitted out. These qualities help it attract the rich and famous, as well as the fiscally challenged, indulging themselves every once in a while. Unfortunately, it has always been my experience that there's a certain type of money that deletes the manners and consideration most of us have in such social situations. On a couple of previous occasions our enjoyment of the night had been diminished by loud-mouths, braying about how they made their fortunes and how they did it all themselves. The worst intrusions into our cherished and infrequent moments of indulgence were perpetrated by the mobile-phone-shouters. Tonight, the guy in the next-door booth was going to learn a very important lesson in restaurant etiquette.
    We were not even finished ordering our meal when he started.
     
    “Yeah, that's right, man. I'm down at Cardoza's. Slumming it with the football players and a few wannabes.”
    Insert unheard reply from fuckwit at other end of the line.
    “HAHAHAHA!”
    Insert etc.
    “No, I tell you what, it's going downhill. They let all sorts in these days.”
    Insert...
    “Waitress is a babe, though. Reckon I