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Grace and Favour
Grace and Favour
Grace and Favour
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Grace and Favour

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Steele has had to accept changes in life style and yet he is required once again to tackle a situation of injustice, but has concerns that he is being commissioned to act by the authorities.
Patrick is working alone trying to recover a youngster kidnapped from parents with a high profile role in the UK establishment. He is without the support of former allies, the Gurentai, and yet feels that the police and National Crime Agency, who have requested his involvement, have another agenda that is not necessarily in the interest of Steele.
The action is shared mostly between the UK and Canada. In the early stages of the case Patrick is chasing kidnappers across the continent of North America when disaster occurs and he is forced to return to the UK. While in Canmore, Alberta, Steele seeks solace from the apparent loss of his long-time partner and fiancée Naomi Kobayashi, in the arms of a local girl.
However, Steele becomes aware that he himself seems to be being kept in the dark regarding the whole truth of the case and returns home. Eventually Patrick’s home situation is threatened and it becomes necessary for him to take steps to protect himself and his team. All the while Steele has the feeling that he is not under control and in fact is being played like a pawn. In the end he takes steps to protect his and his team’s safety.
Has Steele bitten off more than he can chew? Where is his love life going? Are former allies, the Gurentai, targeting Steele? Will he recover the kidnapped child or will he fail and become subject of retribution by the authorities?

LanguageEnglish
Release dateJun 8, 2015
ISBN9781311991560
Grace and Favour
Author

David L Atkinson

Born in Sunderland in 1950, retired after 34 years teaching and then a further 6 years working in a bank.I began writing in 2009 and have published 10 Patrick A Steele stories, a dystopian novel and 2 collections of original poetry.

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    Grace and Favour - David L Atkinson

    Grace and Favour

    by

    David L Atkinson

    Copyright David L Atkinson 201

    Published by Smashwo

    Chapter 1

    Steele was horribly, messily drunk. By anyone’s standards he was drunk most weekends these days but this was a Wednesday and he’d excelled himself. He had left the Railway just after 11pm at the point when he’d been refused service. There were few people in the place but those that were enjoying a quiet beverage were glad to see the back of him, even though he was familiar to most, and some were more than a little worried.

    Patrick A Steele was known to be a local man who, had been an accountant in Leeds, who was then head hunted by a Japanese corporation and only worked for them as his sole client. As gossip mongers in the town would have it, Steele was now a millionaire, but those who were in the know refused to talk about the man’s wealth. All anyone knew for certain was that he had his own gym, Aikido suite, weight room and garage. They were aware of at least three vehicles, not one worth less than £30k, and, it was rumoured he was engaged to a Japanese girl although she hadn’t been seen around for weeks and of course Steele had taken to the demon drink. Speculation was rife among his mates and acquaintances that the engagement was off and it was easy to attribute the change in the guy’s behaviour as the result.

    Steele was sitting on a low Yorkshire stone wall at the side of a Victorian building that had once been a chapel but then converted into flats, when the congregation had moved out and dry rot had moved in. His vision was impaired; in fact it was at least unstable, normally stationary objects had seemingly developed the ability to shape shift and even relocate. He was only 100 feet from his front door but he couldn’t face going inside. Steele became vaguely aware that a car had pulled up. He felt hands grabbing him and later vaguely remembered that he’d taken a car journey.

    Good morning Patrick! a loud voice, female, penetrated the fug that was Steele’s mind.

    Sod off! was his grunted reply.

    You’re a fucking disgrace Patrick, presaged a dousing with freezing cold water.

    Steele opened his eyes, wiped his hand across his face to clear the water that was running into them and ignore the pain that may or may not have been linked to the iciness of the water. The bed he was lying on was hard and unforgiving, there was a stainless steel toilet bowl attached to the wall in the corner of the room he was lying in. The wall opposite was magnolia painted breeze block, there was no carpet on the floor, just wipe clean tiles. Patrick could see a shining high heeled shoe and ascending from there a well-tailored, neatly pressed, trouser suit leg.

    Do you want more Steele? the woman asked.

    Fuck off Kathryn, he replied into the coarse blanket that he was wrapped in.

    Patrick’s mouth was like the bottom of a birdcage, his tongue felt huge and his head continued to throb. The next glass of cold water was held near his hand. He knew that he was going to have to move and dreaded the moment. It was as bad as he thought it would be, beginning with the head spinning, accentuating the activity of the little men who were stamping about in his skull wearing hobnailed boots. His stomach heaved but there was nothing left to come up as he’d had nothing to eat or drink since puking into someone’s garden on his meandering journey home the previous evening. Steele sat very still gripping the edge of the bed and staring at the floor trying to re-establish some level of equilibrium in his tortured body. As the agonies of various organs and muscles settled into a strange kind of rhythmic pattern he focussed on his clothes which were disgusting.

    Shit! was his comment as he tried to brush some of the dried filth from his trousers.

    I wouldn’t bother, Kathryn commented. Just burn them when you get home.

    Patrick Steele realised that he was in a cell and that the location was probably Dewsbury, West Yorkshire which was confirmed by the presence of Detective Chief Inspector Kathryn Best. Steele and Best had history, good history, but she was suspicious of his work related activities. She also was aware that he’d been engaged to one of the Japanese firm’s employees, Naomi Kobayashi, but for whatever reason that had broken up a few months previously which partly explained Steele’s need to crawl inside a bottle. What neither Best nor Steele didn’t know was that the reason for the break up could have been partly due to a colleague of hers, from the National Crime Agency, that she’d introduced to Patrick.

    Kathryn Best liked Patrick so was disturbed by the wreck he was trying to turn himself into and doing such a good job with. She felt that the cell overnight was probably not long enough to change his behaviours but had little evidence to even question him about his extra-curricular activities. The fact that he was working for the Japanese corporation, and Best having tried to investigate them came up with nothing concrete as to what they were in to, was perfectly reasonable. She’d checked with the firm of accountants that he’d worked for in Leeds and came up with nothing but glowing reports. They said that he was very able and popular with customers and colleagues alike. So his financial success was plausible but it was his use of time that had stirred Kathryn’s curiosity. She was also aware of his property in France, the complex that he’d developed in Mirfield as well as the cars and staff he employed. Yet he and his people jetted all over the world and wherever he’d been there had been unexplained deaths, usually of criminals. Quite often when Steele had been off on his jaunts his fiancée had been with him.

    I usually only binge at weekends, Steele finally uttered an almost coherent sentence.

    It’s Thursday morning.

    It’s been a long weekend, was Steele’s attempt at excusing himself.

    You have a visitor, Best stated.

    Steele looked down at the front of his clothes and sniffed unappreciatively.

    No!

    No what Patrick? Best asked.

    I’m not fit to see anyone. Give me a couple of hours and I’ll see whoever at home.

    Who says you have a choice? Kathryn retorted. Then after a heavy sigh, I’ll see what I can do. Get some water down you.

    An hour later Patrick was standing under an ice cold shower, letting the icy shards pound some level of normality into his dehydrated and damaged body. He knew it would help but was also aware that it would be the following day, after a good night’s sleep, before he felt anywhere near normal. Best had rung Jessica Chase, one of Steele’s ‘team’ and arranged a lift then told the recovering drunk that she and the visitor would be along early afternoon.

    Stacey Fordyce, Steele’s housekeeper, was pottering about in the kitchen and when he made an appearance, dressed and looking flushed from the shower, she slammed a cup of coffee on the table in front of him and stomped back to chores she was doing. A couple of minutes later there was toast for him to suck on if he could face eating. Stacey was actually much more than a member of staff; she’d been a surrogate mother to Patrick for half a dozen years or more. Steele, having been orphaned twice, had enjoyed the care she lavished on him but now she was cross. She could see the damage he was doing to himself, could understand the reasons as she too had loved Naomi Kobayashi whom Steele had been going to marry, and was worried about him.

    Steele managed a cup of coffee and piece of dry toast then sat back to force down another drink,

    I’m sorry Stacey, he said quietly.

    Stacey paused in her vigorous cleaning,

    So you should be! she began. Have you any idea what harm you’re doing to yourself? Do you think Naomi would want you like this?

    The rant went on somewhat longer with warnings about future occurrences and long term health damage from the over consumption of alcohol. Finally she went to Steele and hugged him which was what he needed most of all.

    They came at two while Steele was dozing in his leather rocker in the sumptuously appointed lounge that he’d built up from his earnings through the Gurentai. They were the Japanese ‘company’ to whom he was contracted. They were the ‘Robin Hood’ section of the crime organisation known as the Yakuza and as such were benevolent to the needy using some of the ill-gotten gains accrued, which was the philosophy Steele had always claimed to employ in his life. The methods used to bring about such benevolent and just outcomes were not always inside the law. That was the dilemma DCI Best found herself pondering as she drove her visitor to Mirfield to meet with Patrick.

    The man sitting next to her was tall, thin, suited and obviously suffering a vitamin D deficiency as his skin was sallow, indeed almost transparent. Kathryn Best was aware that he was from the National Crime Agency and so in some devious way her superior. She was also aware that he would tell her only what he felt was relevant, she didn’t like him. When working with people Kathryn felt that it was important to have some level of personal contact and she had none from this fella. There was no attempt at conversation on the fifteen minute journey from the police station in Dewsbury to Steele’s home. Kathryn chatted occasionally but the man was unresponsive. She wondered what was going on in his head and that just made her mood even worse than when she was faced with Steele in his cell.

    The visitors were shown into Steele’s lounge,

    You look better than the last time I saw you, Best commented.

    Appearances can be deceptive, Steele replied.

    It’s your own fault, Best was caustic.

    The silent man coughed quietly.

    Oh I see you brought your chatty pal, Steele’s voice dripped sarcasm.

    National Crime Agency had sent this guy to see Steele on previous occasions on what he believed were ostensibly ‘fishing trips’ but without any degree of success. He strolled laconically across to the lounge window and gazed out at the foothills of the Pennines. The weather was fine and clear so the hills were visible and painted in their autumn livery but the brightness of the afternoon rendered the tall visitors features impossible to gauge as he was in deep shadow when he turned to face Steele.

    I know you don’t just balance the Yakuza’s books, the man opened with, I may have a job that suits your other skills.

    Steele stared at the man in astonishment. He’d expected to have to put up with another grilling about his ‘work’ but instead he was being offered a job,

    Fuck off!

    Patrick, began Kathryn, you need to listen.

    What kind of a job can he offer that later wouldn’t be used against me in some way?

    You would be doing the country a great favour, no name said succinctly.

    Patrick and Kathryn looked at each other and, with a slight shake of her head, the policewoman indicated that she knew nothing of what was being offered.

    What sort of a job? Steele demanded.

    I need your agreement and I need you to sign this, the man said holding out a sheaf of papers he’d withdrawn from his inside jacket pocket.

    The papers had the heading ‘Official Secrets Act’ as a heading. Steele spotted the heading as he was about to take the papers and withdrew his hand quickly.

    No way! he exclaimed.

    I’m not about to make this offer again Mr. Steele, the man’s voice was flat and cold.

    Patrick! warned Kathryn.

    If you don’t agree Mr Steele then I will arrest you now and take you back to London for further investigation. That will involve full cooperation from you allowing us to examine your accounts, travel habits, clients you’ve used as alibis in the past, and we would need to do the same with your staff. In short we will find something!

    The representative of the National Crime Agency would leave no stone unturned and, although Patrick was confident that they would find very little incriminating stuff on paper, he couldn’t be sure that they wouldn’t twist anything that they did find in such a way as he ended up locked up for a very long time. The threat against, Stacey, Ethan and Jessica was also something he didn’t want to contemplate. They didn’t deserve to be dragged into Steele’s mess. Patrick was beginning to think that he was being given Hobson’s choice.

    What sort of job could this government agency want him to do? How deep in the mire would he be by agreeing to this bullshit? Was there a way in which he could make sure that they never came after him again?

    Mr Steele, the man said quietly. I need an answer now!

    How can I say yes to something built upon no information and nothing else but threats? Steele complained.

    The man paused and stared at Steele weighing up the pros and cons of passing on information to someone whom he considered a criminal. Personally, he felt they should seize Steele’s assets, bring charges, lock him up and throw away the key. However, his superiors had decided that Steele was a person of interest and may be of help in their current predicament. The NCA guy had to decide how much he could let Steel know.

    What you need to realise Mr Steele is that I am not allowed to tell you too much without your agreement….

    Or you’ll have to kill me! interrupted Steele.

    Something like that, which wasn’t the answer Steele expected.

    The job your country wants you to do,

    No pressure then, interrupted Patrick once again.

    Patrick, shut up! instructed Kathryn.

    As I was saying, we want you to bring someone home, NCA man said.

    More! demanded Steele.

    The person we want you to bring home is important to the nation, you would be performing a great service, the man said.

    So what’s in it for me? Steele demanded.

    Apart from the feeling of pride at helping out the nation? the man asked.

    NCA man had been told he could offer all kinds of incentives but that wasn’t the way he operated so he was cautious,

    Well I suppose we could offer you a pardon…

    Hold on pal, Steele began, I’m not guilty of a crime so a pardon from what?

    Patrick you’re not helping, Kathryn interrupted.

    Kathryn this pillock isn’t giving me anything but threats and I’ve done nothing wrong.

    Okay Mr Steele the NCA will cease any ongoing or planned investigations into your activities, the man said.

    It’s not really a reward for a job of national importance, commented Steele.

    You don’t know what we have on you! was the retort.

    You have nothing concrete! Steele said.

    We have enough!

    I need more information about the job, Patrick said evenly.

    Okay I’m authorised to tell you that the person missing is a youngster from a very important family and they are believed to have been taken deliberately, the man said.

    So some kid from a rich family has been kidnapped and you want me to go and find them?

    Almost, the man stated, the child is believed to be being held by terrorists and its life could be threatened.

    Why don’t they just pay the ransom if they’re rich?

    It’s political, said NCA man.

    Are the group from the Middle East? Patrick asked.

    Sign and I’ll tell you the rest, he said

    Where is the child being held – which country? asked Patrick.

    We believe on the North American continent, probably Canada, the man stated.

    Canada! Patrick was shocked.

    Sign please!

    Patrick spent five minutes reading the forms and filling them in then he handed them back to the representative of the government agency.

    Okay – I’m yours, Patrick announced.

    The next hour was spent talking over some of the details that Patrick was allowed to have concerning the abduction of the child but even then NCA man didn’t reveal the identity of the child or which group had taken it. It seemed that Steele was going to be drip fed the information as and when he made progress that satisfied the government agency. It also appeared that he was going to have to fund the exercise personally and produce receipts to try and claim the money back later.

    Typical! was Steele’s comment at that news.

    We’ll put our tech guys at your disposal as well Mr Steele.

    I want my own team to be involved, Steele stated forcefully.

    No!

    Hang on you two, Kathryn butted in, when you have finished measuring dicks there is a child missing and all the help Patrick needs should be available to him. He is used to his team.

    A disabled, delinquent kid and his girlfriend! the NCA man was disparaging.

    That disabled delinquent is brilliant at anything technical and is not limited by department differences so I suggest he coordinates things in this country and all communication goes through him.

    Patrick’s right, added Kathryn. I know those two kids and they are bright and very able. Not only that, if your government agency is being monitored by the terrorists, information can be tapped into whereas they don’t know Steele and his team.

    You make a good point, conceded the man. Okay we’ll have to establish a line of communication that will keep the captors at bay.

    It could be through me, offered Kathryn Best.

    That makes sense, the man said.

    The only question is when? asked Patrick.

    Tomorrow! instructed the NCA man.

    Chapter 2

    Twenty four hours later Patrick Steele was waking up from another fitful doze due to the ping from the ‘fasten your seat belt’ sign. They were coming in to land at Calgary International Airport. NCA man had spent much of the previous evening briefing him on the child who was missing; the circumstances of the abduction; and, the group who had claimed responsibility.

    The child’s name was Curtis Wellings, he was nine years old, precocious and his parents were important to the nation in a way not explained. Steele had been told not to research the family but as it turned out there hadn’t been enough time. However, he’d had the time to speak to Ethan on the quiet and arrange for him to look into the family with the warning that any enquiries will probably be tracked.

    Ethan Small was in his mid-twenties, technologically brilliant and disabled because of taking a bullet in the spine that had been intended to kill Steele. As a result Steele had a sense of guilt about the boy and so had educated him, supported his mother - a single parent, and provided Ethan with employment and security for life. So when Ethan had fallen in love with his physiotherapist, Jessica Chase, she too had been absorbed into the Steele machine. Patrick had used some of the money paid by the Gurentai to buy the two young people a bungalow in Mirfield, with swimming pool and physio facilities so that Jessica could practise from home and see to her partner’s needs. Ethan had made himself an essential part of the team and Jessica did carry out some tasks within the Steele family. In fact it

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