The Red 65. Grant Peake

      

      A novel of deceit and power play

Published by Brolga Publishing Pty Ltd ABN 46 063 962 443 PO Box 12544 A’Beckett St Melbourne, VIC, 8006 Australia

      email: [email protected]

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without prior permission from the publisher.

      Copyright © 2016 Grant Peake

      National Library of Australia

      Cataloguing-in-Publication entry

      Peake, Grant, author

      The Red ‘65

      ISBN: 9781925367157 (paperback)

      ISBN: 9781925367638 (ebook)

      Subjects: Missing persons--Investigation--Fiction.

      A823.4

      Cover design by Wanissa Somsuphangsri

      Typesetting by Tara Wyllie

       In memory of my loving and wonderful parents, Lloyd and Ida, who taught me so much in life.

      CHAPTER one

      Detective Chief Inspector Martin Hislop (known to everyone as Marty) leaned back in his chair and studied the file he had just been given by his boss, Superintendent Charlie Solomon.

      Hislop was 49 years old and had been in the police force since he was 19. An officer of great talent and skill, he had an uncanny way of extracting information from people with lightning dexterity, but lacked tact. Treading on toes to get to the bottom of things did not cross Hislop’s overactive mind. Prone to be impatient and to act upon impulse, had landed Marty in deep water with his superiors over the years. This did not phase Marty at all – he had just told them to shove it, more or less! Yet for all his faults, he was a good cop who got the job done with a minimum amount of fuss.

      Marty Hislop was single, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t had some fun with the ladies in his life. Once he had approached his late forties, the ladies had began to drop their interest in Marty, favouring the younger guys. They couldn’t come to terms with the fact that Marty was dedicated to his job in the force, and they took second place.

      What on earth does Charlie think I can do with a case that is over 40 years old? Marty thought. Nearing 50 years old, the case file contained only a few skimpy pages of handwritten notes.

      He flipped through the flimsy, ageing pages and noticed a black and white photo of a young child at the back of the file. He turned the photograph over and saw on the back had been written in black ink: Billy Parsons on set Universal Studios Apr 9, ’65 aged 7 years.

      Marty gave a deep sigh and looked carefully at the photo of this kid who had just vanished without a trace, on July 21, 1965. He vaguely recalled his mother mentioning this Billy Parsons whenever she was reminding Marty and his kid sister, Marion, about the importance of never going anywhere with a stranger they did not know. “Beware, stranger danger.” was the catch phrase uttered from his mother’s lips. “Look what happened to young Billy Parsons, 7 years old, and vanished. Probably accepted a lift from a stranger and then disappeared into thin air!” said his mother with warning to her offspring.

      When Charlie Solomon had knocked on Marty’s door and asked him did he want to take on a real nutcracker of a case, Marty had no idea this would be it. Marty had thought it would be drug running along the southern California coast or a gun dealer found murdered or a brothel madam found bashed to death in her expensive Mercedes, or just anything else, but not this.

      “Hell,” Marty had exclaimed to Charlie Solomon, “you want me to investigate a cold case from years ago, when we have crime and corruption on our doorstep. Surely you must be crazy Charlie, what’s the big idea anyway? This case is nearing 50 years ago, it should be put to bed, man!”

      Superintendent Charlie Solomon, a man of large frame and a good listener, lifted his body in the chair facing Marty, and cleared his throat. Charlie had been with the Los Angeles Police Department for over 45 years, knew the system well, and its faults, but still felt he had something to give the service before retiring. A native of the deep south, from Alabama, he started cotton picking at 6 years of age. His hard working parents had slaved hard to get their only son into college, and eventually taken on by the police force. Charlie had known discrimination because of racial colour and had been overlooked for promotion in the early years, but he was diligent and determined to change the old order of things. The inspiring speech in ’68 by his great mentor, Martin Luther King Jr., had spurred Charlie on to succeed and not give in to tyranny, deceit and most of all, racial prejudice. Today, he was at the pinnacle of his career and enjoyed the role, even if his loving wife, Thelma, was wanting Charlie to hang up his boots and call it a day.

      Being accustomed to Marty’s brisk manner, Charlie ignored the distinct reluctance from Marty’s remark and knew he had to convince this man to investigate this poor kid’s disappearance. Charlie responded to Marty’s outburst with the usual tilting of his large egg shaped head to one side, smiling coyly, and said in his big booming, yet rich voice, “Yeah sure Marty, I agree, the case is out of date and what good can we do now to find this kid? If this kid is still alive, he would be in his fifties now. His face was splashed around the newspapers and on TV for days on end.” With that, Charlie gave a short chuckle and continued on, “Plus the fact that the witnesses have most likely kicked the bucket or shifted camp. It’s a tough one, I appreciate, but we must attempt to unravel some of the mystery surrounding this poor little mites fate, Marty”.

      Marty was silent but the expression on his rugged face was not one of joy by any means.

      Charlie looked long at Marty before continuing on with his droll voice, “You see man, this case has been brought to our attention by the Australian Federal Police in Canberra, Australia. They have been approached by relatives of this Billy Parsons, to seek any answers regarding his disappearance. The parents are still alive, though apparently in their eighties and not in good health. Mr Parsons has terminal cancer and Mrs Parsons has the early signs of dementia. They have another son and two daughters, who with the assistance of their local Member of Parliament, contacted the Australian Federal Police recently to find out anything they could to put their parents mind at rest; especially Mr Parsons, who would like to know what happened to their young son. I know it is a huge long shot man, but we can only do our best. You are the ideal man for the task, Marty. No one else has the expertise and ability to get this case by the teeth and pull out the crap and deal with the facts. I will give you, and La Paz, all the support you will need. My only stipulation is that no one, and I repeat, no one, is to know what you are both doing. If word leaks out that we are reopening a cold case from over 40 friggen years ago, the press will have a field day, and I will have the hierarchy come down on me like a ton of bricks. We won’t know what struck us man, so discretion is the key element to this. The case is sensitive, to say the least, regarding a very young child. Basically, we are just revisiting the case and checking witness statements. Anything you can dig up that will shed any light on the kid’s disappearance, will be a bonus to solve this case. I know what your thinking, but we have to deal with what we can work with. Yeah, I know you will be banging your head against a wall of stone after all these years, but for the sake of the parents, I have agreed to reopen the case.”

      Charlie finished his words with an air of finality and gave Marty the “don’t argue with me” look. Marty sniffed and looked away from Charlie. The office