A steamy, crimefighting, covert team of ex-cons, hackers, police, army, MI6, rogue angels, and undercover soul-stealing misfits navigate complicated family dramas, protecting humans, and avoiding hell warlords. They lie, spy, ignore rules, fall in l...
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THE FALLEN ANGEL SERIES
The Deal, Karma, The Calling, Already Dead, They Know.
Opening Chapters
Brompton South Police Station,London, UK
David Howard sat glumly in the interview room listening to his pompous legal advisor, Allister Maydew, finish reading out his prepared statement.
'... and to summarize,' bellowed Maydew. 'I attended what I assumed was a private party invited by someone I met in a nightclub whose name I do not remember. I had no dealings in the organizing or set-up of the party. I witnessed nothing untoward. I left early, alone, and do not understand why I have been invited into the station for this interview.'
Maydew placed the paper on the table and slid it across to DC Blightly with a flourish.
'And I want a copy for my files,' he demanded.
Blightly looked down at the spidery writing with David's bold signature at the bottom, he couldn't read a word.
Maydew, a duty legal advisor, free, independent, and on call, was famous in the borough for complaining about custody facilities, and for having illegible handwriting. The words 'this is not a hotel Mister Maydew' and 'what does that say?' could oft be heard whenever he was in the building.
Giving up on deciphering the scrawl, Blightly placed the statement in the back of his folder, he could listen to the interview recording later to transcribe it.
'And, Detective,' remembered Maydew. 'I've advised my client to give a no comment interview.'
Blightly gave a not-bothered, slightly-bored-to-be-here shrug.
'Not a problem Mister Maydew,' he sighed. 'As the caution says, he doesn't have to say anything. But I will proceed with a few questions in case he changes his mind and wishes to help clarify a few things. Which is, after all, why we're here.'
David checked his watch; he didn't have time for this.
With a slight yawn, Blightly opened his laptop and spun it round to face the two men.
'Here we have film footage, exhibit number DT/01,' he sighed as he pressed the play button.
The loud sound of thumping music, sighs of pleasure, and goading cheers blasted into the small room, the two men jumped.
Their jaws dropped as they focused on the screen.
'What the?' Maydew pushed his glasses up his nose and leaned closer.
