Over The Hills And Faraway, Book 5. Paying The PiperChapter 4: Intel free porn video
The next day I moved back to my house for a couple of nights. I contacted a local estate agent, and a young lad, barely out of school, came round and measured up, and we agreed what price to put the house on the market. I was in no great hurry to sell and reckoned I would get the asking price in time.
I also got in touch with a house clearance firm; practically all but the kitchen equipment could go. Most of the other furniture stemmed from my parent's era, and any new stuff in the house had been bought by Miriam. If she wanted any she could reclaim it from the rubbish tip. I kept the TV, my mum's favourite armchair — and my old bed, as I was buggered if I was going to sleep in any bed Miriam and Hodge had been shagging on. Next on my list was to install a home security system, in case Hodge, or his henchmen, paid me an unannounced night visit. I expected Miriam wanted to get into the house to collect her possessions, if there were any left, and they might come round one evening when I was at home. Forewarned is forearmed, and a call to 999 when suspicious characters came lurking about the neighbourhood at night would get the fast response teams around to check up.
My next move was to start divorce proceedings, citing adultery by Miriam with Martin Hodge. She could of course also divorce me, on account of my many affairs over the years, but she had no evidence, while I had a sheet full, in fact two sheets full. I chose a firm of solicitors with offices well away from the Plaistow area in case Hodge put pressure on them. He might not take too kindly being named as co-respondent.
Butcher, Baker, and McCandless had offices at High Holborn in the City of London, and I decided to let them also act in my house sale.
"We will need to gather evidence of your wife's alleged adultery." Mister Baker, grandson of one of the original partners, said. "We have an arrangement with a reputable investigation agency, who will observe and report any..."
"I already have the evidence." I handed him the plastic bag containing the soiled bed linen.
He peered into the bag and gave me a bemused look. " A bed sheet?"
"Bed sheets, coated with the bodily fluids of my wife and Martin Hodge." I said with a note of triumph in my voice. "The DNA is the evidence of them fuc ... having sexual relations."
"Well, it's highly irregular, but no doubt admissible as evidence." He took the bag from me, and, with his nose wrinkled in disdain, or disgust, placed the incriminating evidence in the corner of his office. "They will be dispatched to a laboratory to have the DNA extracted for examination." He pursed his lips momentarily. "But we might not be able obtain the co–respondents's DNA to make a match, he might refuse, as being against his Human Rights."
"Hodge has a police record, and his DNA will be on file. My wife's DNA will be on this." I handed him a small hair brush in a plastic bag.
Baker gave a wintery smile. "I am impressed by your thoroughness, Mister Desmond. You should have a Decree Nisi issued in a week or two from us presenting your petition to the Divorce Court, and I would expect, with the samples of the DNA's ownership established, a Decree Absolute, if not contested, to be forthcoming in six weeks and one day's time from you receiving the Decree Nisi, a so -called 'Quicky Divorce'. I will need the address of your wife, and the co-respondent, to inform them you have initiated divorce proceedings."
I gave him Miriam's office address, and promised to find where Hodge currently lived. We shook hands and I left, well pleased.
Phase Two of Retribution now well in hand.
Hodge had several housess, and moved between them at irregular intervals, or so Maggie informed me. I reasoned Miriam would now be living with him as she had no other family alive, and as far as I knew no friends, therefore if I followed Miriam when she left work she would probably lead me to Hodge's current lair.
The day after my visit to Butcher, Baker, and McCandless I hired a car and drove to the regional HQ of OCSET. Sure enough, about ten minutes after 5pm, a large 4 wheel drive vehicle drew up to the main entrance of the office building and Miriam got in. I assumed she had been waiting in the foyer. I couldn't see who was driving, but it appeared to be the same vehicle Hodge and Miriam had arrived in outside 23 Kitchener Road two days ago to find the locks had been changed, one of those huge gas guzzler cars with tinted glass and bull bars on the front, a typical tosser's idea of a gangster's vehicle.
I followed them to a quiet country road in Great Warley, not far from Upminster, an expensive area to live. The house, a medium sized, detached, property, stood in about 5 acres of land. Checking around I saw CCTV cameras situated on all the approaches to the front and rear. A drug dealer like Hodge would need plenty of security, external and internal, plus steel backed doors, multi lever locks, and all the other kit designed to keep uninvited guests out. There was no chance of me being able to break into his house, which meant I would need to keep some sort of survelliance on Hodge to determine the best time and place to attack him.
Over the next three weeks I spent three hours a day working out in the gym. Gradually I began to regain my strength, and I definitely felt fitter, but I was nearly 38 years old, and it takes some time for a body of of that age to recover from the trauma of shrapnel wounds.
I also spent considerable time in planning a strategy: namely, to follow Hodge without him realising I had him under observation, and then decide when, and where, and how, to attack him; and, above all, figure out a legal defence which would prevent me being handed a long prison sentence after being arrested for assaulting the bastard. As I told Maggie, when I outlined my plan, I wanted to humiliate him in public, and there would be plenty of witnesses to attest to my actions.
"Why not catch the bastard alone at his home, and no one will be the wiser? Me and Alfie will alibi you if he grasses on you," she said.
"No good; his house is sewn up tighter than a nun's fanny. Besides, I want folks to see me knocking seventeen shades of shit out of him. I bet he's been bragging all around the manor how he beat me up, although no one here has mentioned it."
Maggie gave me an embarassed glance;she would know the talk about the manor but, bless her, didn't want me to know of what was being said about me, and my humiliation.
"Anyway," I continued," even if I did manage to break into his place and marmalised him, he could say I had a gang of blokes to help me. I'm going to hurt him in front of witnesses. He is going to beg for mercy. He is going to cry and beg me to stop. He's going to want me to kill him to put him out of his agony."
That last one was a bit over the top, but Maggie got my drift and came over and hugged and kissed me. We were in the lounge of The Crown at the time, and Alfie, looking over from behind the bar, smiled and gave me the thumbs up, so I gathered he was back collecting his 'rent'. Matter of fact I knew he was as I discovered them going at it like feral cats a few days earlier.
I had got into the routine of spending two days at the house, sometimes showing prospective buyers around, and then a night at Maggie's, always in the arm chair in spite of her blandishments.
"Once a week won't do you any harm, Des."
Makenna
- 28.11.2022
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