Stark Contrasts (An Adam Stark novel Book 1) by Peter Carroll Read Free Book Online Page A

gatekeeper and backstop for all things swimming club. People such as Hargreaves are drawn to such positions for all the wrong reasons. They delight in exerting power over others and always seem to take life far too seriously.
    Given our strained relationship, I avoided volunteering ideas or suggestions unless I was sure he already agreed with them. He waited with baited breath whenever a committee meeting was in session, willing me to contribute something radical, just so he could slap me down. I kept my counsel and he seethed with frustration. It made the meetings more bearable for me.
    “Ok, but you'll need to table a motion.”
    It wasn't a particular incident as far as I can recall. It was more like Chinese-water-torture. A drip, drip, drip into my subconscious. He must have filled the tub and I needed to pull the plug to prevent a flood.
     
    “TABLE”
     
    “A”
     
    “MOTION!”
     
    Accessing buildings covertly didn't usually present a big challenge for me. The swimming club committee met in a back room at the local church hall. Tight security was unnecessary - nothing worth stealing ever spent the night there. As a result, this covert entry proved to be a cakewalk.
    The committee meeting was set to begin at eight the next morning. Hargreaves liked to drag things out, so he started early. As a keyholder, he was always punctual. For once, I would be there well ahead of the kick-off to ensure I could enjoy the moment.
    At seven-forty-five I found myself outside the church. The club secretary, George Amberry, also waited. He only experienced being bawled out for lateness once, but it was enough to ensure he never ran the risk of getting there after Hargreaves again. Not the most assertive of guys, but a very good accountant by all..er..accounts. Conversation between us didn't extend much beyond a 'How are you?' and remarks on the weather. Blue sky, sixty degrees, as it happened.
    At seven-fifty Hargreaves rolled up in his twenty year old BMW. Almost all his life took place in some form of suspended animation; a golden age of times gone by. He could easily afford a new car, but he'd rather spend hours maintaining and polishing the one he bought in his prime. He shot me a quizzical look - with just a dash of healthy (and, as it happened, well-placed) suspicion. I nodded in faux deference and politeness.
    Hargreaves, carrying a bundle of folders and papers, turned the key in the lock and let the door swing open. He strode forward with his purposeful, military gait. Around half-way down the hall he stopped dead in his tracks, dropping the paperwork to the ground where it slid in various directions across the varnished floorboards. His hand went to his mouth, then he bolted for a waste-paper bin and held it up as he retched and dry-heaved.
    George Amberry edged a few yards further into the hall, then stopped.
    “Holy shit!”
    “Yeah, maybe, but even if JC himself evacuated it, I don't think they'll be handing that out at Communion on Sunday, do you?” I quipped.
    George spluttered with laughter.
    The pile of faeces in front of Morris Hargreaves' nameplate was copious and horribly pungent. A few flies were already in attendance.
    I whistled softly and looked over at our chairman, staring back at me ashen-faced and dumbstruck.
    “Oh dear, Morris. Looks like somebody tabled a motion - literally!”

12. Leo the Lion
     
    Leo Corantelli was very upset. Very, very upset. What occurred in Cardoza's qualified as the single most humiliating moment of his life. The restaurant staff were intolerably smug when they found him; the paramedics and hospital staff snickered, pointed, talked behind his back. This was not paranoia on his part, this was fact.
    The removal of the phone left him sore, and for the first few days afterwards, taking a dump was no laughing matter. But, he wouldn't be leaving it there. Oh no! The distress, discomfort and ignominy was eclipsed by a raging fury.  The prick responsible for his unhappiness had