by JD Nixon
Blood Ties
by JD Nixon
Copyright JD Nixon 2011
Smashwords Edition
Smashwords Edition, Licence Notes
Thank you for downloading this free ebook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its original form.
This book is a work of fiction. All characters and locations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or real locations, is purely coincidental. The police force and justice system, and their operations and procedures depicted in this book are purely the product of the author’s imagination and are not based on any real jurisdiction.
JD Nixon is an Australian author. Australian English and spelling have been used in this book.
Discover other titles by JD Nixon available at many ebook retailers:
Heller series
Book 1: Heller (free ebook!)
Book 2: Heller’s Revenge
Book 3: Heller’s Girlfriend
Book 4: Heller’s Punishment
Book 5: Heller’s Decision
Book 6: Heller’s Regret
Book 7: Heller’s Family (to be published)
Little Town series
Book 1: Blood Ties (free ebook!)
Book 2: Blood Sport
Book 3: Blood Feud
Book 4: Blood Tears (to be published)
Book 5: as yet unnamed (to be published)
Cover design by Infinity Rain
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Cuttings from my scrapbook . . .
Wattling Bay Messenger, Tuesday, 3 April, 1888
Man lynched by angry crowd after terrible murder
Residents of the small township nestled at the foot of Mount Big were shocked last week when two timber-getters stumbled over the body of Mrs Elizabeth Fuller, aged 21 years. The murdered woman was found in a paddock off to the side of the road leading to the township. It appeared that she had been outraged before being brutally beaten about the head with a large rock that was found in near proximity. Mrs Fuller, described by the townsfolk as a very comely woman, had been on her way to lend assistance to her husband’s sister during her first confinement.
Suspicion for the heinous crime fell immediately on bullock driver, Mr Ned Bycraft, aged 30 years. He was seen by the timber-getters with bloodied hands running wildly from the paddock shortly before their most gruesome of discoveries. According to the timber-getters, Mr Bycraft had publicly threatened to do violent harm to Mrs Fuller on several occasions for rightly rejecting his insistent and unwanted attentions. The husband of the murdered woman, Mr Clem Fuller, also a timber-getter, had reportedly come to physical blows at least twice with Mr Bycraft over his unseemly behaviour towards Mrs Fuller.
An angry crowd of local men (one of whom is believed to have been Mr Fuller) ran Mr Bycraft to the ground before hanging him to his death from the branches of a nearby tree.
Constable Dougal Tighe from the Wattling Bay constabulary was ordered to the Mount Big township to investigate both deaths. But after receiving no co-operation in his enquiries from the local townsfolk, Constable Tighe advised this reporter that there would be no further investigations undertaken into this matter.
Ned Bycraft’s older brother, Mr Bill Bycraft, told this reporter that his brother was innocent of any crime, and had actually himself been running for help after discovering Mrs Fuller’s body when he was noticed by the two timber-getters. He further threatened that there would be a deadly reckoning on those responsible for killing his brother, particularly on the Fuller family.
Mr Fuller told this reporter that justice had been delivered for the dreadful outrage and murder of his wife, and that he did not regret the circumstances of Mr Bycraft’s death. He would not admit to being a participant in the lynching though.
Mrs Fuller was buried on Friday in a small, but well-attended, service. She is survived by her husband and two young children.
Mr Ned Bycraft is survived by a wife and seven children.
Wattling Bay Messenger, Wednesday, 22 January 1986
Life sentence for ‘depraved’ murder of young mum
Robert John Bycraft (known as Bobby), 29, seasonal fruit-picker of Mount Big Town, was today found guilty and given a life sentence in the Supreme Court for the vicious murder of young mother, Leonie Mary Fuller, 24. Bycraft showed no emotion as Justice Leonard MacEnroe told the court that the murder was one of the most depraved crimes he had ever presided over in his twenty years on the bench.
Mrs Fuller was attacked in her house in Mount Big Town by Bycraft in June last year. She was half-strangled before being raped and stabbed repeatedly, with such savagery that the blade of the knife broke off inside her body.
Mrs Fuller’s daughter, who was only two at the time, was also attacked during the violent crime, sustaining several serious knife wounds to her arms and torso. Police believe that the young child may have witnessed her mother’s brutal murder. The little girl was unconscious from blood loss when discovered by her distraught father. She was found lying underneath her parents’ bed, where it is believed that Mrs Fuller pushed her to save her from the murderous frenzy. The court heard during the trial that Mrs Fuller suffered extensive defence wounds during the attack trying to protect her daughter and herself. Mrs Fuller was three months pregnant at the time of her death.
Mrs Fuller’s friends and family, including her husband and parents, were in court for the sentencing and were abused by relatives of Bycraft, some of whom had to be forcibly removed from the courthouse by court security.
A spokesman for the Fuller family, Mr Abel Stormley, later thanked the Wattling Bay detectives for their relentless efforts to solve the crime and bring Bycraft to justice. The family also extended thanks to the community at Mount Big Town for their support during the family’s traumatic experience.
Bycraft is expected to appeal his conviction.
Wattling Bay Messenger, Wednesday, 13 May 1998
Man found guilty of assaulting teens
Redmond Christopher Bycraft, 22, unemployed of Mount Big Town, was today found guilty in the Wattling Bay District Court of two counts of assault occasioning bodily harm, and one count of attempted abduction after he attacked two teenagers in Mount Big Town in mid-February.
The court heard that Bycraft deliberately ran his car into the two teenagers, a female aged 15 and a male aged 16, as they cycled to the beach early one Saturday morning. The male teen was knocked unconscious in the attack and Bycraft then attempted to drag the injured female teen into his car, but she was able to fight him off. Bycraft suffered a knife wound during the assault, and fled the scene bleeding.
It was claimed by the defence during the trial that Bycraft had been drinking heavily and smoking marijuana the evening before the assault and had accidently run into the pair. It was further maintained that the female teen was mistaken in her claims that Bycraft had tried to abduct her, and that he had been merely trying to assist her, a contention rejected by the jury.
The judge commended the teen on her calm thinking and self-defence skills, stating that the outcome could have been much worse had she not been so skilled. She recommended that it was important for all teenage girls to ensure that they could defend themselves in similar circumstances.
Bycraft was sentenced to two years detention. It was revealed after the verdict that he had previously served a three year sentence for the sexual assault of a sixteen-year-old teenage girl after meeting her in a nightclub in Wattling Bay in 1994.
Wattling Bay Messenger, Saturday, 12 December 2009
Female cop slashed during dispute
A female police officer required stitches to her arm after being slashed
with a knife yesterday as she attended a domestic dispute in Mount Big Town. A man was later charged with assault and taken to the Wattling Bay watch house.
Wattling Bay Messenger, Monday, 5 July 2010
Cop car run off road by stolen vehicle
A female police officer sustained minor injuries in Mount Big Town last night when her patrol car was rammed and forced off the Coastal Range Highway during a pursuit of a stolen vehicle.
A witness said it was a miracle the officer wasn’t seriously injured or killed in the accident that left the patrol car badly damaged.
Two youths were taken into custody and were charged with dangerous operation of a vehicle while under the influence. They will face the Wattling Bay Children’s Court today.
Prologue
In my dream, I’m always running. Not the steady comfortable jog of my usual morning exercise, but a desperate sprint. My legs are burning and my heart pounding, a painful stitch down one side, sweat stinging my eyes. I draw in huge ragged breaths, my throat dry and raspy. A single-minded imperative keeps driving me forward, determinedly placing one foot in front of the other despite my utter exhaustion. I have to get to my house to save my mother’s life.
But there is a Bycraft hunting me down as I run and I throw frequent frightened glances over my shoulder, praying he’s not getting any closer. He will kill me if he catches me. I know that as sure as I know my own name.
Sometimes in my dream, I’m surrounded by bushland as I run, on an isolated road so long and straight that I can see it converging to a disappearing point in the distance. My house is at the end of that road and my mother is in the house, screaming for help in terror. But no matter how fast or hard I run, I never get any closer to the end of that road. It just keeps rolling out in front of me, as far as my eye can see.
Other times, I’m in an unfamiliar building and can’t find my way out. The building is large, filled with identical white corridors that lead into and away from each other in a confusing warren. I run in a wild panic, bouncing into walls, going around in circles, butting up against dead ends, all the while searching for the exit. Some of those corridors terminate with a window, and I press my forehead against the glass to see my house on the other side of the road and hear my mother’s agonised cries of fear and pain. Furious and frustrated, I bang and kick and ram the glass with my shoulder, shouting, but it never breaks. Then I start running again, looking over my shoulder as I look for the exit.
I can’t stop for a minute because of that Bycraft chasing me relentlessly down that road or around those corridors. It’s usually Red who’s pursuing me, a malicious grin across his face. But sometimes it’s Craig or Tommy or Bobby Bycraft himself, a razor-sharp knife hidden behind his back. Once or twice it is even Jake.
My dream always ends the same way. Somehow I have finished running and find myself standing on the verandah of my family home. The front door is ajar and I cautiously push it fully open, creeping down the central hallway into the silent house. The bloody handprints on the walls and splatters on the pastel apricot carpet fill me with apprehension. I ignore the overturned furniture in the lounge room and step over the broken remnants of my mother’s favourite lamp. My stomach is a tight ball of fear as I slowly make my way to the kitchen at the back of the house.
My mother is lying huddled up against the blood-smeared back door, as if she had been trying to escape through it when she finally fell. A broken knife protrudes from her back, its handle tossed carelessly to the floor. Her face is turned away from me, covered by her long dark-blonde hair, now sticky and matted. Her pretty yellow dress is stained orange with all the red. She is barefoot, her blood-sprayed legs arched gracefully, feet pointed, her toenails painted a bright magenta that clashes with the dark crimson of her spilled blood.
I drop to my knees in a lake of her blood. Tenderly, I sweep her bloodied hair from her forehead, looking down at her young, beautiful face, my mouth stretched in a silent wail of anguished denial. Tears flood my eyes and flow down my cheeks, dripping to the floor. I am too late to save her.
I’m always too late to save her.
Chapter 1
It was chilling to hear. From the open front windows of the house an unnerving symphony of suffering ruptured the night-time peace. Frantic screaming clashed brutally with guttural grunts, loud deep thuds and what sounded alarmingly like a chainsaw. Goosebumps bristled down my arms and I paused a moment to double check my equipment, reassuringly patting each piece as I went through my mental stocktake – gun, OC spray, baton, handcuffs. Steeling myself with a deep breath, I climbed the spongy, rotting timber stairs to the verandah. Despite the lingering heat of the late summer night, the neighbours had prudently slammed their windows and doors shut. The street was deserted, but prying eyes stared out at me from behind every curtain.
I banged on the front door, dislodging peeling flakes of ugly mud-brown paint. There was no response. But then the screaming stopped suddenly with a last spine-tingling yowl, the instant silence that replaced it welcome, but eerie. I took advantage of the unexpected lull to thump harder on the door with my fist. The screaming recommenced, even louder than before, but I’d finally been heard and it was cut off abruptly mid-cry. Thank the heavens, I thought with relief. Two o’clock in the morning was no time to be playing death metal music. Especially when it was blasted so loudly that it made your bones vibrate and your ears feel like they were bleeding.
The verandah light switched on and Red Bycraft flung open the door, his eyes widening in delight when he saw it was me standing at his threshold. He was bare-chested and barefoot, dressed only in faded low-slung jeans that showcased his honey-brown skin, tattoos, muscled arms and six-pack. Like all the Bycrafts, he was tall, well-built and beautiful, with the golden colouring common in his family. He was also trouble. Big time.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the lovely Tessie Fuller standing right before me in the flesh,” he drawled, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms and ankles, snake-like yellow eyes roaming my body. “And what mouth-watering flesh it is too.” He flicked out his tongue and ran it slowly around his lips with offensive intent.
I didn’t react.
He took a step closer to me, leaning down until his face was mere centimetres away and his eyes drilled into mine. His voice dropped to an intimate whisper, almost caressing. “I can’t wait for the day I get to taste it. To bruise it. To bite it. Get to force myself inside it.”
The alcohol fumes on his breath made my nose twitch. I resisted the sudden strong urge to step backwards, instead returning his stare steadily and making every effort not to show just how much he made my skin crawl. He wasn’t going to intimidate me – not now, not ever. Before answering, I deliberately, conspicuously, trailed my eyes down the jagged ten centimetre scar running down his neck that I’d given him when I was fifteen.
“We both know that day’s never going to happen, don’t we, Red?” I reminded him coldly.
He smiled with lazy menace and shifted even closer. I caught the masculine scent of his underarm sweat, not entirely masked by the musky deodorant he wore. The day had been stifling; the evening not much cooler.
He continued to whisper. “I disagree, Tessie. I think we both know that day will definitely happen. We have unfinished business, you and me. And I have such a hard-on for you.”
He gripped his crotch and bared his teeth with a hiss.
I refused to entertain him by reacting to his crude taunting, maintaining my professionally stony demeanour. He pouted at me for spoiling his fun and ran his hands through his longish wavy golden hair, his chest muscles tensing enticingly as he did. He was a mean bastard of a man, but he sure did come in a good-looking package.
“What can I do for you tonight, lovely piglet?” Piglet was the ‘pet’ name the Bycraft family had for me. I hated it, which of course only ensured that they used it as often as possible. “Because I can think of a hundred things you could do for me.”
All of them sadisti
cally carnal too, I bet, I thought.
His hand shot out to glide his index finger along my jawline to my chin, then upwards to my mouth, trying to thrust his finger between my lips. I flinched at his touch, immediately batting his hand away and reaching for my OC spray, eyes fixed on his. He laughed with malicious satisfaction at finally prising a response from me. I relaxed my right hand, but kept it in close access to the spray. He knew I wouldn’t hesitate to use it if I felt threatened enough. I’d already sprayed him once since he’d returned home from jail. Drugged up and off his face one steaming hot January afternoon, he’d come at me with a cricket bat in his front yard when I’d turned up to investigate yet another complaint. I’d loved every second of watching him crash to the ground, writhing in agony in the dirt, howling and rubbing his tear-drenched eyes. In fact, it had been the highlight of my week.
“I’ve had a report of a disturbance here tonight,” I told him in my impassive cop voice.
He shrugged easily, indifferent. “I was just chilling to some music in my own home. No need to get you involved.” He smiled with deceptive friendliness.
I didn’t smile back.
“Who rang you?” he asked casually, as if he wouldn’t seek immediate and violent retribution on that brave neighbour.
Again I remained silent, unblinking.
He sighed dramatically and said with insincere contrition, “All right. I promise I’ll turn the stereo down.”
“It’s not about the music, Red. It’s about the shouting earlier in the night. Is everything okay here?”
