Hell Bent on Murder #1

Author(s): Robert James Bridge

Location(s): London

Genre(s): Fiction, Crime

Era(s): Present Time

As I poured myself what was to be the last drop of Scotch in the bottle, I sat back in my chair, watching the pictures the neon lights up on the wall of the office. I reached for my cigarettes and realised I was trying to give the damn things up. I swallowed the Scotch, and my mind raced back to my time spent as a cop in the Met.
My name? Sorry, but I was stuck with a surname that for many of my years I was almost afraid to mention, but seeing as we are about to become pals, well, here goes; it’s Bent. Yes, Jimmy Bent. Now, don’t you go laughing since I have already heard all of the jokes. Jokes from school days to my days in the Met are not funny anymore.
My mind raced back fifteen years, and a bullet was still lodged in my back; was this all I was going to get for my troubles? I knew the modern-day force was no place for Jimmy Bent ever since I got saddled with that damn desk job. I did not take lightly the thought of becoming a private detective, especially as I knew I would be a target for each and every low-life I had put away. Also, my office and my ex-beat was one I knew very well since I had spent many a time walking it. I knew of the pimps, their minders, and many of the girls who worked for them in and around Soho.
Entrance to the twilight world, as I called it, began not long after I left the Met. In fact, it was almost immediately afterwards, after I returned home after an evening’s drinking with my old pals.
I opened my garage door, and confronting me was the figure of a well-known pimp, a rope around his neck hanging from a wooden rafter. I knew at that moment I was about to embark on a career that was to take me on a roller coaster of sex, violence, all the while not forgetting murder.
My mind then raced back to the looker who had entered my office earlier that day. As I picked up the phone to call my pals in the Met, I found I could not get her and those long, slender legs out of my mind. Now, I had seen a lot of lookers in my time but none who set my heart racing at the thought of her. She wanted me to find her husband, but I sure was in no hurry.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang and I was interrupted by the sound of the sirens around the house; was this to be the start of my first case?

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