15 Signs Of Murder (Fifteen thrillers) Read online

  15 Signs Of Murder

  Luis Samways

  Text © 2015 by Luis Samways

  All rights reserved.

  Cover Design by The Purple Book Co.

  Luis Samways has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  eBook Edition first published in January 2015

  ******

  V1.0

  For more information on books by Luis Samways Visit:

  www.LuisSamways.com

  www.Twitter.com/LuisSamways

  © 2015 by the Purple Book Co.

  NO

  PULSE

  Part One

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  Thirty-Four

  Thirty-Five

  Thirty-Six

  Part Two

  Thirty-Seven

  Thirty-Eight

  Thirty-Nine

  Forty

  Forty-One

  Forty-Two

  Forty-Three

  Forty-Four

  Forty-Five

  Forty-Six

  Forty-Seven

  Forty-Eight

  Forty-Nine

  Fifty

  Fifty-One

  Fifty-Two

  Fifty-Three

  Fifty-Four

  Fifty-Five

  Part Three

  Fifty-Six

  Fifty-Seven

  Fifty-Eight

  Fifty-Nine

  Sixty

  Sixty-One

  Sixty-Two

  Sixty-Three

  Sixty-Four

  Sixty-Five

  Sixty-Six

  Sixty-Seven

  Sixty-Eight

  Sixty-Nine

  COBWEBS

  The Casual Killer

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty One

  Twenty Two

  Twenty Three

  Twenty Four

  Twenty Five

  Twenty Six

  Twenty Seven

  Twenty Eight

  Twenty Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty One

  Thirty Two

  Thirty Three

  Thirty Four

  Thirty Five

  Thirty six

  Thirty Seven

  Thirty Eight

  Thirty Nine

  Forty

  Forty one

  Forty Two

  Forty Three

  Forty Four

  Forty Five

  Forty Six

  Forty Seven

  Forty Eight

  Forty Nine

  Fifty

  Fifty One

  Fifty Two

  Fifty Three

  Fifty Four

  Fifty Five

  Fifty Six

  Fifty Seven

  Fifty Eight

  Fifty Nine

  Sixty

  Sixty One

  Sixty Two

  Sixty Three

  Sixty Four

  Sixty Five

  Sixty Six

  Sixty Seven

  Sixty Eight

  Sixty Nine

  Seventy

  Seventy One

  Seventy Two

  Seventy Three

  Seventy Four

  Seventy Five

  Seventy Six

  Seventy Seven

  Seventy Eight

  Seventy Nine

  Eighty

  Eighty One

  Eighty Two

  Eighty Three

  Eighty Four

  Eighty Five

  Eighty Six

  Eighty Seven

  Eighty Eight

  Eighty Nine

  Ninety

  Ninety One

  Ninety Two

  Ninety Three

  Ninety Four

  Ninety Five

  Ninety Six

  Ninety Seven

  Ninety Eight

  Ninety Nine

  One Hundred

  One Hundred and One

  One Hundred & Two

  25th of Dismember

  A Killer Christmas

  Plenty of Pain

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  Thirty-Four

  Thirty-Five

  Thirty-Six

  Thirty-Seven

  Thirty-Eight

  Thirty-Nine

  Forty

  Forty-One

  Forty-Two

  Forty-Three

  Forty-Four

  Forty-Five

  Forty-Six

  Forty-Seven

  Forty-Eight

  Forty-Nine

  Fifty

  Fifty-One

  Fifty-Two

  Fifty-Three

  Fifty-Four

  Fifty-Five

  Fifty-Six

  Fifty-Seven

  Fifty-Eight

  Fifty-Nine

  Sixty

  Sixty-One

  Sixty-Two

  Sixty-Three

  Sixty-Four

  Sixty-Five

  Sixty-Six

  Sixty-Seven

  Sixty-Eight

  Sixty-Nine

  Seventy

  Seventy-One

  Seventy-Two

  Seventy-Three

  Seventy-Four

  Seventy-Five

  Seventy-Six

  Seventy-Seven

  Seventy-Eight

  Seventy-Nine

  ALL F**KED UP

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seve
n

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Ice Cold Case

  Gun To The Head

  Das Death

  Part 1

  Prologue

  Jacob’s Last Rites

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Das Death:

  Part Two

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Beacon of Light

  Episode One

  Episode Two

  Episode Three

  Episode Four

  Episode Five

  Stranger

  At

  The Door

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  Thirty-Four

  Thirty-Five

  Thirty-Six

  Thirty-Seven

  Thirty-Eight

  Thirty-Nine

  Forty

  Forty-One

  Forty-Two

  Forty-Three

  Forty-Four

  Forty-Five

  Forty-Six

  Forty-Seven

  Forty-Eight

  Forty-Nine

  Fifty

  Fifty-One

  Fifty-Two

  Fifty-Three

  Fifty-Four

  Fifty-Five

  Fifty-Six

  Fifty-Seven

  Fifty-Eight

  Fifty-Nine

  Sixty

  Sixty-One

  Epilogue

  Nails in a Coffin

  A VERY MACHETE CHRISTMAS

  NO

  PULSE

  Part One

  Heartbreak & to Speculate.

  One

  I could see the line from where I was — a stretched bit of tape with the word “FINISH” was flapping in the wind. I could hear the sound of cheering rise in the distance. It was music to my ears. I had been running for a few hours now, nonstop. It was one of those “preparation” runs that runners do leading up to a big race, usually a marathon. I didn’t really need any preparation. I was used to working the marathons and competing at a satisfactory level. Sports had always been my thing, you see. Ever since I could remember, I was always interested in the Olympics on TV, among other track-based events. Most kids would be glued to MTV or football. Not me, though; I was a regular running guy. No glitz, no glam — just a pair of sneakers and an oval track for me to do laps on.

  Right then was different, though. I wasn’t a kid anymore. I was a fully grown adult. Twenty-four years old, to be precise. And I was running at a semi-pro level. My dreams were finally coming true. If I won this event, I would be on a fast track to Team USA boot camp, and who knows what I could achieve? It didn’t happen like that, though. Fate stepped in and reminded me of my condition. You see, ever since I was a boy dreaming of competing in the Olympics, the doctors knew that dream wasn’t possible. It wasn’t possible because I was born with a heart defect. The heart defect in question was a ticking time bomb, so to speak. They had warned me plenty of times before to take it easy, to rest up and stop overexerting myself. I didn’t listen, though. I didn’t need to; well, that’s what I thought, at least.

  I guess it was sick of me, really. Testing them out like that. Testing their theory as if I wanted to prove them wrong. In the end, though, they proved me wrong. No matter how many times I had raced and survived, there was that one time when they were right. The one time when my defect finally manifested itself.

  I saw the finish line get nearer as I dug deep and clenched up. I was ready for one last push. I caught myself looking back at the others behind me. They were far behind now, at least 300 yards. I didn’t need to dig deep; I just wanted to beat my personal best, whatever it took. I was going to win anyway, but I suppose winning was half the battle with me. I suppose being the best wasn’t enough, unless I beat myself every time I took to the track.

  I saw the big timer next to the finish line tick down, I knew my best time was two hours and seven minutes. I saw the time was at two hours and six minutes. I had twenty seconds on the clock. I could feel the gravel under my feet. It was scraping under the soles of my Nikes. The finish line was getting closer. I could see the several hundred people who’d turned up for the race. They were propped on either side, looking on from underneath umbrellas and gazebos. Most of the people had blurred-looking faces. I couldn’t make any of them out, but I figured it was because of the speed at which I was running. But then I felt a burning in my neck. Suddenly the finish line was blurry, too. More smudging, more disorientation. Then my chest thumped three times. Three hard thumps.

  THUMP THUMP THUMP.

  The sort of thumps you’d notice. It was thumping before, obviously. Running for two hours makes one’s heart beat a little fast. But it had never thumped like that. Not like this. But then my legs went numb, and the thumping in my chest turned into a burning pain. It stretched out across my torso and made its way up to my shoulders. It felt like I was burning up. It felt like someone had punched me in the chest and injected me with acid. My balance went. The smudges in the crowd turned into silhouettes of humanity. The finish line flapped violently as I fell through it and landed on my front. The last thing I saw before the lights went out was the pavement beneath my face. It seemed to wobble as I watched. And then the pain stopped – and so did my breathing.

  Two

  “Stand clear…CHARGE.”

  I opened my eyes. More silhouettes of people I didn
’t know. This time they were standing around me, looking alarmed and frightened. The pain was still there. This time it was more intense. Something went thump once again – and then lights out.

  “Shit, compress the chest, compress the damn chest,” I heard a voice say.

  My ribs began to ache. Someone was pushing down hard on my chest. I could feel something snap. They’d broken one of my damn ribs. I opened my eyes again. I could see better this time.

  “Can you hear me, sir?” the man standing over me asked.

  He had a focused look on his face. He looked kind, yet menacing. He was angry, or so I thought. He carried on, pushing hard on my center. I could feel every compression. Every time he pushed down on me, a little more vision returned.

  “Can you hear me, sir?” he repeated.

  I couldn’t talk. I just couldn’t muster the strength. The pain was fading away, as was I.

  “ETA on the chopper?” I heard someone say.

  “Two minutes. It’s flying in from the east. They say they’ll be able to land it on the street,” a voice replied.

  My chest began to ache once again. This time it was a different ache. It took my breath away. I tried to open my eyes, but I couldn’t. I felt the middle of my chest rattle in an uncontrolled rhythm. I knew this was the moment I’d die. I was certain of the fact. And I was right, because four seconds later, my defect kicked in and made me kick the bucket at the ripe old age of twenty-four.

  Three

  Everything went dark. Lights danced around my blackened vision, rising up and down like the levels on a HI-FI equalizer. With every second that passed, the levels grew smaller, until they were nothing but a few smudges of light, pulsating up and down, then up and down once again, until the lights went out and everything was gone. My vision was blacker this time, Like a darkness that engulfed me and wrapped its strong grip around my chest. Suddenly, all feelings of life flushed out of me, and my sense of consciousness disappeared. I don’t exactly know what happened in the hours between the time I collapsed and when I ended up on an operating table, but I do know one thing: I died that day. Some say I never came back. I beg to differ, though.

  After a prolonged period of darkness, my eyes finally opened. It was as if my eyelids were peeling apart and I was able to see properly for the first time in my life. Everything was so clear, yet hazy at the same time. I wasn’t sure where I was or if I was actually there. To me, the world around me looked like a dream. It felt that way, too. I experienced the sort of feeling that you got from a good dream. The feeling of invincibility. The feeling of ecstasy. The feeling of euphoria. But mixed in with those feelings was an undeniable sense of danger and fear that clung to me. Much like the blackness I had just encountered, the feelings of fear were stronger than I ever could imagine would be possible. It was as if I had dropped out of the ether and the heavens had forgotten about me. I felt lonely. I felt not of this world.

  My vision was finally unhindered, and I found myself staring up at a ceiling. It was bleached white. A huge light dangled off its surface and shone down on me. I still felt out of it. My whole body felt like it had gone to sleep. But there were no pins and needles. Just numbness. Just fear.