Lies Of A Broken World – Chapter Six – Act IV

Gary and Davey get out of their cruiser and look at the mess in front of them.

“So tell me again why we’re here instead of being back at the office filling out reports for Masters?” Davey asks.

“Like I said, Danny called it in, apparently ERU’s were attending the scene when they discovered the bodies.”

“And these bodies were dead before the accident?”

“That’s why Danny called us in,” Gary replies as they make their way over to a large tent, once inside they see Danny and Sarah working over seven bodies laid out on tarpaulins. Danny looks up as they walk in.

“Welcome to our kingdom,” Danny says.

“Looks like a bad day for it,” Gary replies.

“Only for these loyal subjects, and you two, by the looks of it.”

“Don’t get me started, so what the fuck do we have?”

“What we have is something very interesting indeed,” Danny says. “Before you are the bodies of seven young men, who all look as though they’ve been beaten to death, but that’s not interesting enough right? I’m glad you asked that question, these guys didn’t just get a beating, they also handed it out as well. From what we can tell from the preliminary results, these men, all of them, were fighters, they all show calluses on their knuckles and aged breaks in their hands. If I were to give you a speculative guess on their occupations bases on only what I’ve seen, it would be that they were all bare knuckle fighters.”

“All of them?”

“That would be my assumption, this one over here is a young man by the name of Kyle Mendeze, now if you don’t know who Mister Mendeze wa…”

“He was an up and coming amateur boxer, pretty cluey, knew how to move.” Davey interrupts and both Gary and Danny look at him in surprise. “What? A man can’t have a hobby? I would’ve though you would’ve known who he was, considering this was your bread and butter back in the early days.”

“I don’t find much time to indulge anymore, not how I’d like anyway.” Gary says.

“Fuck Gary, I remember you had the meanest right hook I’d ever witnessed, it’s a pity you got old.”

“It’s still there, waiting,” Gary says. “But now that we’ve had this awesome little walk down memory lane, can I direct the conversation back to the bodies, and in doing that I want to ask everyone a question. What we’re talking about, these kids and the fighting they’re doing, does it sound like these boys could’ve been involved in The Arena?”

“It’s what I first thought as well, but I haven’t said it out loud until now.” Danny says.

“The Arena, isn’t it just all a myth?” Davey says. “I mean, a fighting arena that takes place downtown where men battle to the death, all old and poetic shit, it just seems too glorified and glossy.”

“Look at the bodies and tell me that maybe it’s not a possibility?” Gary says.

“Hey, I’m not saying it’s not possible, I’m just saying it sounds insane.”

“Do we have names and particulars on all of them?”

“They’ve been updated in the case log, not a lot to read about sadly, nothing of any substance anyway. We also have the info for the driver, Milo Tankan, a small time junky who apparently was working clean up, but got too high and made the mess you see,” Danny replies.

“Okay, we’ll see if we can shake a few trees and get a myth or two to fall out,” Gary says as he exits the tent and pulls out his phone, quickly dialling a number, Andrew Fontaine answers a few moments later.

“He calls, and I answer, what can I do for you?” Fontaine says.

“It’s what I can do for you, well not really, but I’ve got a challenge for you.”

“You know just what to say at the right time, what are you after?”

“The Arena.”

“The Arena? Gary for fuck sake it’s like a myth downtown, and that’s all it is, there’s never been any proof that it actually exists and there never will be because it’s a myth.”

“Well, I’ve got seven bodies here that might say differently.”

“Seven bodies might also tell you shit, The Arena is a ghost,” Fontaine replies. “But don’t let that stop you from telling me about the bodies?”

“Early this morning a van being driven by a junkie on some heavy shit caused a massive fuck me pile up, there were no survivors from any of the vehicles. When the ERU’s were able to get access they discovered the bodies in the back of the van and contacted us straight away. We’ve got nothing on any of these guys, all of them had steady jobs, no partners, nothing in common, only that fact that they’re all meat heads. So far we’ve turned up shit about where they train or anything else for that matter.”

“So you were hoping maybe I might be able to find some info?”

“Exactly, I’ve got shit Stapleton expects me to get done, so I won’t get any time on this case until the morning, but if you can do some ground work for me, it might help me start in the middle instead of the beginning.”

“Send me everything you’ve got and I’ll see what I can come up with.”

“I’ll shoot them over to you once I disconnect.”

“Okay, I’ll buzz you back once I get something,” Fontaine says as he hangs up.




Her eyes open and she takes a large mouthful of air, and then screams.

“Calm yourself child, all will be okay soon.”

“Where the fuck am I?” she asks frantically, noticing her arms and legs are strapped down to the metal table, “What the fuck is going on?”

“All that will be explain in great detail, but for now, you need to sleep some more my dear, we have many things to do together, you and I,” she feels something pierce her neck and then everything beings to spin uncontrollably into nothingness and unconsciousness.




Gary sits at his desk going over the paperwork for the Masters case, trying to make sure he captures all the information he can before it slips away into the recesses of his mind. But once again he finds himself distracted by the information on the bodies that were discovered earlier today in the van, and the desire to dig in and start trying to find the needle in the haystack, but he is pulled back to reality by an incoming call from Andrew Fontaine.

“Fontaine, I hope you’ve got something we can use?”

“Don’t I always, four of your boys trained at a Gym called Sabre, owned by, from what I can understand, a local legend by the name of Roland Biggs, apparently Biggs has some pretty high up friends, lots of back scratching goes on from what I can see with his accounts. I can’t tell you why he’s a legend though, information on him tells me he was a small time amateur fighter who was hailed as the next great champion, and then just disappeared off the radar and into obscurity. But all his personal accounts, traceable and non-traceable, tells me he’s got a shit load of credit value. Way more, than some never have been, should, in my opinion.”

“You think he’s involved somewhere in something dirty, maybe this elusive Arena?”

“He has all the signs, not necessarily The Arena, but he has signs of being dirty that’s for sure.”

“But no real proof?”

“Nothing, even Ghost couldn’t turn up anything bad in Biggs accounts.”

“Which means he’s dirty.”

“That’s what it typically means, no one is that clean.”

“Well, I guess that means I should pay this Biggs a visit.”

“Can you swing by my place first? Biggs isn’t going anywhere, and there’s someone I want you to meet, he could be of some help.”

“Okay, give me half an hour.”

“Sure, you know where I’ll be,” Fontaine says as Gary hangs up the phone and stares at the photos of the bodies.

“Hey, Jackson, I didn’t deliberately listen in on your phone conversation, but did I hear you say the name, Roland Biggs?” A voice asks, Gary turns and faces Detective Sergeant Rick Parker, who sits a few desks away from him.

“You know the name?”

“Only from what I hear from my sources, why are you poking around about him anyway?”

“Those bodies that were discovered earlier, they could be linked to an underground fighting organization that Biggs might be involved in.”

“I’d keep that assumption to myself if I was you, Biggs is not the sort of guy you go around making accusations about, without proof, and it never ends well even if you do have it.”

“You know this from your sources as well?” Gary says. “If he’s involved he’ll go down for it.”

“Just saying, but you do what you have to do, just thought I’d give you a friendly warning, one that I’d listen to if I was you.”

“It’s noted Parker, and ignored.”

“Hey it’s your call, but don’t come knocking on my door when Divisional comes down on you for poking your nose into someone you shouldn’t be.”

“You think he’s involved with someone in Divisional?”

“I don’t think, I know,” Parker replies. “As I said, if you go after Biggs, prepare for a storm.”



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