Category Archives: crime fiction writing

Missing British Girl: Madeleine McCann… Is This Her?

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If alive today Madeleine McCann would be  approaching her nineteenth birthday this May. She is ( or was) depending on what you believe her status is today, a British girl who disappeared while on holiday with family and friends in  Praia da Luz, Portugal  on the  evening of the 3rd of May 2007. Her siblings were left peacefully sleeping, but she disappeared.

The story is that her parents went out for a meal with their friends and left the children unattended, asleep. Many will have opinions on this kind of parenting, even if they were what appeared to be  fifty-five meters (180 feet) away from the children and claimed to have ‘checked on them through the evening.’

A lot, and I mean a lot of speculation has surrounded her disappearance. Almost sixteen years have passed, there have been various ‘sightings’ of her, then out of nowhere ( to the public you and I at least) a lady from Poland  Julia Faustyna publicly announces  ‘I am Madeleine McCann.’ Has she been found? Is this believable? Here’s the plot twist, Julia Faustyna is deemed to be twenty-one, while Madeleine McCann would be/ or is almost nineteen.  After all these years  what do we know?

Parents:

Kate and Gerry ( McCann) are both medical doctors.  Both were born in 1968, her mother is from Liverpool in the UK, and her father from Glasgow, Scotland. Her parents were painted  to be ‘prime suspects’ in the case, at one point I do recall there being a lot of social media speculation, media reports, and just ‘talk’ of how these two had been part of this. I do also recall reading somewhere years ago, that the parents also gave their children sleeping aids so they could go out! Whether this is true or not is something only they can answer, but it was put out there for the world to see.

 Isn’t this always the case though? The parents or those who are closely linked to a victim in these particular cases are looked at side-ways. Just last week, I wrote about Nicola Bulley, a missing British woman who was found dead also.  Back to the McCanns, they met in 1993 according to sources in Glasgow, and were married in 1998. They then went on to have Madeline in 2003, and a set of twins born in 2005.

So, What’s The Story:

From what has been reported over the years, during their holiday in Portugal, it is said that the McCann adults and their  adult friends dined at a restaurant regularly. Around 20:30 in the evening.  Regardless of what you think of their parenting style, leaving children unattended their pattern and behaviour  this can’t be overlooked. If the couple and their friends regularly did this, and they themselves have admitted it over the years this would be the ideal time for anyone who was in the shadows observing the group’s movements to understand exactly when, how, where, and even at what hour would be an ideal time to strike. Assuming we’re working on the assumption that Madeleine was kidnapped.

Suspect Seen?

One of the group who dined with the McCann’s reported a sighting of a man carrying a child away, directly where the children were left sleeping that night. Jane Tanner’s report was dubbed ‘Tanner Sighting’ reported that at around  forty-five minutes after Madeline had been reported missing, she had seen this man and child. So, how did she see this ‘suspect’? Apparently, she left the restaurant to go and check on her own child (left unattended) and asleep during the meal. Sheesh! I am really trying to remain objective and not comment on this style of parenting, as a parent of a young child myself it’s hard not to,  leaving a child unattended at night, in a foreign country…. Errrr? Different strokes for different folks or so they say? Meanwhile, this sighting from Jane Tanner in the early days of the investigation could be argued as a ‘blessing in disguise’ if she had not left to check on her own child, no one would have been able to confirm there was a person (man) with a child in the area.

Tanner confirmed this was around 21:21 in the evening, later this was discovered to be a local man who was collecting his own child from a  local creche… ahhh so you mean to tell me there was childcare available at this resort? That’s interesting, again… let’s not pass judgement… So, anyway the police concluded that this sighting was, ‘nothing to do with the abduction’ clearly it was another parent collecting his own child from the childcare location.

22:00… who saw what?

After the first sighting of a man with a child was disregarded, a local couple reported that they too had seen another man, with a child, around 22:00 . The Smiths saw him around 500 yards ( 460 meters) from the McCann’s residence.

‘He was carrying a girl aged 3–4 years. She had blonde hair and pale skin, was wearing light-coloured pyjamas, and had bare feet. The man was mid-30s, 5 ft 7 in–5 ft 9 in (1.75–1.80 m), slim-to-normal build, with short brown hair, wearing cream or beige trousers. He did not look like a tourist, according to the Smiths, and had seemed uncomfortable carrying the child.’

By 22:00 Madeline was reported officially missing.

Present day:

Over the years, lots has been reported on this case, the Portuguese, and British police have not appeared to be able to see eye-to-eye on the case and suspects. At one point the Portuguese police found what appeared to them as DNA belonging to Madeline, and various other DNA samples in the room, the problem is that the area was not sealed off as a crime scene ‘properly’ and therefore it could not be concluded that these samples were DNA samples of suspects as so many people had entered the room, once the Portuguese police arrived. Damn, what a shame.

Recently there have been reports from a lady claiming to be Madeleine:

  • Twenty-one years old.
  • From Poland.
  • Can’t recall her childhood.
  • Not seen pictures of her mother pregnant with her.
  • Recalls being abused by a man who fits the suspect’s description.

She does resemble Madeleine somewhat ( picture on the right of Julia) and does appear to have the same characteristics of Madeleine’s iris on her eye. However, could this really be her? Her family claim in a nutshell she is ‘crazy and will not take her medication’.  How often are people deemed ‘crazy’ for their own genuine thoughts and feelings? Hasn’t someone said this to you before, because you thought or felt something? How did you feel when you were dismissed in such a way?

Should we do this to Julia? I would hope most people would feel against this. A DNA test would answer all the questions… but will the McCanns agree to it?  Well, the Polish police apparently are ‘dismissing her claim’ in an article posted eighteen hours ago from writing this . The McCanns themselves were said to have agreed to a DNA test, but as of late their spokes person for the family would not/ or could not confirm this. They are also said to, ‘not be giving interviews, issuing statements, or confirming anything unless told to do so by the police,’ in the Fox News reporting.

Why not give her a DNA Test?

I find it heart-breaking that the family and anyone else who is involved in this case would hesitate to agree to DNA tests. It is clearly what is needed to answer this almost sixteen year old question: what happened to Madeleine McCann?

It’s also concerning that officials, and even Julia’s family members would dismiss her feelings, thoughts, claims, and mental health in such a way. Whether Julia is suffering from ill mental health or not she should be taken seriously. Would it not be a sensible thing for the family of Julia to allow the DNA test to put Julia’s mind at ease, maybe even help with her mental ill health if we assume ( like the family is) that she is ‘crazy’. I really don’t like to describe Julia like this, and I really don’t like to think of her like this. Even if let’s just say she is suffering from mental ill health this label is a harsh one. Often, I write characters who suffer with ill mental health,  and as much as I hate the label ‘crazy’ I try to show with a person’s behaviour or thought process in the story rather than label them outright ‘crazy’.

But, back to the DNA testing, it’s strange to me that this would be dismissed as something to move forward with. I feel, and this is personally speaking this is often how mistakes are made in high profile cases, people assume, dismiss, and don’t check out everything and comb through what is being presented to them—no matter how unlikely it may seem, or even if on a subconscious level it does not want to be believed. This should be left to us fiction writers, and not be a reality of police investigations.

Given the amount of ‘mistakes’ that have been recorded in detail surrounding Madeleine’s investigation, this really is a chance to make things right, or place closure on the claims. I say, give Julia Faustyna a DNA test, and move forward with the investigation into Madeleine’s disappearance. What do you think of this case? Have you been following it? Do you think Julia resembles Madeleine? What about the age discrepancy?  

Did the Police Go Too Far: The Case of Missing Woman Nicola Bulley

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As a crime fiction writer, when the news surfaced that a lady had disappeared in late January, from a quiet and close-knit town in the United Kingdom, after a last sighting by a river  not only did my heart go out to her family, I was intrigued. Things that I often imagine and write about do happen in real life, sadly.

I followed the case naturally out of concern, fear, interest, and as I was a bit confused as to why the police ruled out any foul play so soon. Their theory was almost straight away that she had entered the water, somehow.

Sure,  the facts are that her phone was found logged into a work call still after the conference with her co-workers ended,  her dog and its harness were left on the bench where she was last seen along with her phone, and then there was the crucial ten minutes between  sightings of her that could not be accounted for. Personally speaking, I found the dismissal and  assumption made with no body a bit much, too soon. How could they assume Nicola went into the water with no body or other evidence? This really bugged me, and I felt a little disappointment at the police’s view point. I supported her family in their public statements that they are ‘not giving up hope’ without any evidence to suggest that they should.

 Up until yesterday ( at the time of me writing this around the 20th of February 2023),  Nicola Bulley had been missing for twenty-four days. During this time the police released information that she was a ‘high risk’ case due to ‘ significant troubles with alcohol brought on by her menopause experience.’ From what I had understood, the police in her local town had had contact with Nicola regarding her struggles.  Now if your eyebrows shot up after reading the last sentence, you’re not alone. When I heard this on the local news, I immediately thought to myself, ‘they’ve gone way too far with that info.’ Why would the police release such personal information? Why would they do this given the fact that they have already assumed she entered the water, yet had no body to prove this?  I pondered this and my theory at the time was that:

  1. They wanted to highlight her ‘character’ and ‘troubles’ and make their theory that she entered the water more plausible.
  2. To sway public opinion on the case.
  3. To show that the possibility that she did enter the water ( of her own accord) more believable.

Regardless of why they did it, it sparked outrage even with the government and from what I last heard they are investigating how the information was leaked, from within their own sources. But how is not the question, why is not even the question, for me it’s simply: did they go too  far?  This is not a critique of the police it’s just my own opinion. It made no sense to me why they would do that outside of the reasons I came up with above, and I also felt as a woman myself that this kind of information is not something that really needs to be broadcasted to the world. However, was this really needed?  Should they even have released this information on her?  I guess it will depend on who you are, or what gender you are with the answers.

Sadly, they did find Nicola Bulley in the river, and it was not from their own efforts. As often fictionalised in books ( my own too!) a passer-by found her body and alerted the police. The family’s full statement on how they feel about the release of personal information:

 

“And it saddens us to think that one day we will have to explain to them that the press and members of the public accused their dad of wrongdoing, misquoted and vilified friends and family. This is absolutely appalling, they have to be held accountable, this cannot happen to another family.”

The family singled out ITV and Sky News for making contact with them directly on Sunday night after police confirmed a body had been found, adding they had asked for privacy.

“They again have taken it upon themselves to run stories about us to sell papers and increase their own profits,” the statement said. “It is shameful they have acted in this way. Leave us alone now.

“Do the press and other media channels and so-called professionals not know when to stop? These are our lives and our children’s lives.”

It appears to me from hearing it live on the news last night, then reading it again online that they too feel that the media and police went a bit too far. I only hope that now that she has been found, the social media amateur sleuths, newspapers, and whoever else seemed to upset the family can allow them to have their peace, and Nicola to rest as they wish. In my view, yes, the police did go a bit  too far releasing personal information on a woman’s experience with her menopause.  They could have said she ‘had significant troubles with alcohol’ and left it at that if they really, really, had to release something… couldn’t they have?

Sharing Work In Progress: A Romantic Thriller #NaNoWriMo #amwriting #thriller

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Sophie Ngo
Charlotte Price-Smith
Joseph Andrew
Tamara
Christina

I am soooooooooooooooo making progress this National Novel Writing Month! Three- four years after I originally started this romantic thriller, I’ve gone back to my old manuscript while I wait to hear news back on last romance novel completed last month  ‘Sacrifices’  I’ve sent out to an agent. I have my fingers crossed that I hear good news about representation!  I am happy with where  this  current story ‘In the Name of Love’ is going, I  may even have it done this this April if I stay focused. Here’s a lil’ snippet for you, as always, I have lined up a  cast of characters from all corners of the world,  and different walks of life, with diversity, romance, murder and of course suspense and thrill!

Christina’s body is found, one brutal murder, two suspects, a conviction then a re-trial six years’ later, due to advances in DNA.  Charlotte- Price-Smith  has overturned her conviction and detainment in a London based mental institution following Christina’s murder six years’ later, and a new suspect is found,  but have the police convicted the right person the second time around…even after a re-trial?

This is a romantic thriller with a killer twist! Our leading lady Charlotte,  her love interest Joseph, Detectives and Christina’s best friend Sophie Ngo will take readers on a ride…..

 

Dear Diary,

Something strange is going on. I’ve not heard from Joseph for a couple of days, last saw of  him  was a week ago. It’s now Friday night, normally we’d have plans for the weekend or at least some kind of contact. He’s not answering my texts. If I don’t hear anything I’ll drive past the house and see if his car is there over the weekend, keep an eye on what’s going on. Christina is probably up to something.

CHAPTER THREE: MURDER, MURDER

 

18.00 hours Wandsworth Police Station, south west London.

“It’s  the 10th July 2012. This interview is being carried out in interview room one, the interview will be recorded via tape. I’m Detective David Black, present is Detective Stephen Jones, for the purposes of the tape, please confirm your full name?”

“Joseph Andrews.”

“And your date of birth please?”

“6th March 1980.”

“And your name please sir? For the purposes of the tape.” Detective Black gestures to the short bald man in a grey suit to the right of Joseph.

“I’m John Davies, legal representative from Davies and Smith Solicitors, here to protect the rights and interests of Mr. Andrews today.”

“Thank you.”

Detective Black wastes no time starting his full-blown interrogation, for years Joseph has been on his hit list of local criminals to nail. Joseph is smart, and a shrewd business man he managed to keep his ass clean–until now.

“Joseph you’ve been detained, on suspicion of the murder of  Christina Andrews- Campbell. You don’t have to say anything but anything you do say maybe used as evidence against you in a court of law do you understand?”

“Yeah I understand.”

“Joseph please look at this photo can you confirm who this is?”

Detective Black slides a photo across the table of mixed-race female, with her throat slashed from ear to ear, and  multiple stab wounds to her chest, upper arm and stomach. Joseph screws up his face as he looks down at the bloody photo. Detective Black studies his reaction to the photo closely, did he flinch? Show any kind of shock? Or seem as though he’s seen it before– maybe in person if he is her murderer.

“It’s my wife, Christina.”

“How long have you been married to the late Mrs. Andrews- Campbell?’’

“Three years last February.”

“For the three years have you been faithful to Mrs. Andrews- Campbell?’’

“No comment.”

“Can you confirm when the last time you saw her alive was?”

“I told you, when you arrested me, I don’t fuckin’ know what happened to her!”

“Mr. Andrews, please just answer the question.”

I take a deep breath, and rest my elbows on the table. I look Detective Black dead in the eye.

“I’ve been away for a few days, I needed time out, the last time I saw her was last Wednesday night just before I left.”

“Why did you need to leave your wife for time out?”

“We were arguing as usual, she pissed me off, I needed some head space.”

“And where did you go?”

“I stayed over at my mum’s.”

“While at your mum’s did you have any contact with your wife?’’

“Yeah, she kept texting me, asking me when I’ll come home.’’

“Did you respond?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Why do you think? I wanted time out I was in no rush to go back.’’

“What were the two of you arguing about?”

“Just stuff, usual things couples argue about.”

“And when you arrived home last night, what happened?”

“I walked into the house, dumped my stuff down then walked into the living room and there

she was on the floor.”

“Roughly what time did you arrive home?”

“Around 8:00 p.m.”

“And what did you do?”

“What do you think I did? I called you lot!”

“Mr. Andrews, who is Charlotte?”

“Just a friend.”

“Did you have more than just a friendship with her?”

 

I think about my response carefully the police have a way of trying to trip you up. I said no comment when asked how faithful I had been to that sorry excuse of a wife of mine. They have my phone and probably worked out exactly what went on between Charlotte and me. Fuck! I should have been more careful, I can’t get out of this one.

“Yeah, yeah okay she…she’s someone I was seeing.”

Detective Black grins at me, he knows he’s onto something now. I eye him from the other side of the scuffed wooden table and await this cocky response.

“Mr. Andrews could you please confirm what you mean?’’

“My bit on the side, we were seeing each other.”

“Did the two of you have a sexual relationship?’’

He knows we’ve had a sexual relationship, the evidence on my phone is enough to confirm we’ve had a sexual relationship. “What do you think?”

“Mr. Andrews if you can please confirm your response to the question.”

I place my head in both  of my hands and run my now sweaty palms over my face.

“Yes, we did.”

“For how long did you have a sexual relationship?”

“A month or so.”

“How did you meet?”

“We know each other from college, we ran into each other on a night out.”

“Does she know you’re married?’’

“Yes, she knows and knew nothing serious could happen. Plus, she’s a crazy fuckin’ bitch it’s her you should be talking to.”

“Mr. Andrews, what gives you the impression she is crazy?”

“She is obsessed, you’ve got my phone read the messages.”

“Did your wife know about your affair Mr. Andrews?”

“No comment.”

 

Shit, my mind races as these pigs place me under the spotlight for almost an hour. For years I’ve conducted all my illegal dealings behind the London’s Metropolitan Police’s back. I’ve rarely found myself on the wrong side of the law, I’ve been too clever for that.

“Did you try to break things off with Charlotte?”

“Yes a few times”

“What was her response?”

“She would cry, bitch and bombard me with texts and calls that kinda thing.”

“Why did you want to break it off with Charlotte? Assuming you had no plans to leave your wife for her, sounds like an ideal situation having them both?”

Staring up at the yellow ceiling I compose myself before I respond. I can hardly be truthful, tell the old bill I had no plans to leave my wife for Charlotte, as I planned to leave them both and start a new life once I pulled off the narcotics deal in Amsterdam. That bitch Christina caught wind of my operation, she blackmailed me with exposure to the pigs if she didn’t get a cut, and join me in my new life in the Caribbean. That was the last thing I wanted. This was part of my attraction to Charlotte. She is the complete opposite to Christina in every way from her looks, to her attitude and motivation in life. She’s the independent type earned her own money, good job, going places…. But she’s strange, her behaviour caught me off guard at times, and she’s a walking chemist with all the pills she popped. Whatever happens I’m not going down for this shit, no way, now she’s dead that’s my ticket into a new life. I rest my gaze on the pigs, ramp up my bravado and pray they don’t smell a rat.

“No, I had no plans to leave Christina for Charlotte.” I lie through my teeth and steel myself for more lies.

“I loved her, she was my wife.”

“Really? So why the affair then Mr. Andrews?”

“Just fun.”

A pang of guilt runs through me at my reference to Charlotte being just fun, truth be known I’d fallen for her and enjoyed her company, but how can one woman be so possessive? I’d ask myself when she was pissed off that I couldn’t meet up with her, or go for dinner as planned. Then there were the mood swings one moment she’d be up, then she’d be in  low level  depression and self- pity.

“So, Mr. Andrews, if you’re not responsible for the murder of Christina Andrews- Campbell then do you know who is?’’

Detective Black stares deeply into Joseph’s large light brown eyes, willing him to answer the question.

“No, I don’t.”

Bullshit, is all that runs through Detective Black’s mind.  He presses on with his interrogation wasting no time or allowing Joseph time to think. Detective Black changes tact, to the direct approach to see what Joseph knows– will he grass anyone up? And at the same time put out a lead for him and his team to follow up.

“When was the last time you saw Charlotte?’’

“About a week ago, I’ve been trying to cool things off a bit, lie low, I had other things on my mind work was busy. All I know is, it wasn’t me, and if you have no hard evidence against me you need to let me go and stop wasting your time and mine Detective.”

“Was Charlotte jealous of Christina? She was after all your wife and the woman you went home to?”

         My heart skips a beat, do the old bill have her as a suspect? Is this some kind of trick?  I sit back confidently in my chair and look from one Detective to the other. I hate the poe-poe and I’ve never been one to take sides with them, but I’ve got to get myself out of the spotlight somehow. I think quickly and see this as my chance to get out of the hot seat.

 “Yeah, course she was she’d send threats all the time to me that she’d tell Chris about us.”

“Do you think she’s capable of murder?”

“Like I said she’s one crazy bitch.”

Detective Black smirks. “This interview is terminated at 21.00 hours exactly, Mr. Andrews you will be held pending further investigation here at Wandsworth Police Station.”

“What? Are you lot mad? I’ve got nothing to do with this, that crazy bitch is who you need to talk to not me.’’

“Please stay calm Mr. Andrews, let me handle this” John Davies cuts in.

“Detective, exactly how long do you intend on remanding Mr. Andrews?”  Joseph’s  legal representative shuffles in his seat, and fixes Detective Black with a firm stare over the top of his glasses.  Detective Black does not even bother to meet John’s eye, instead he focuses in on Joseph, and holds his gaze as he responds to John.

“As you know, we can in serious crimes hold a suspect for up to ninety six hours, due to the seriousness of this case I intend to remand Mr. Andrews for the maximum time.’’

 

I’m seething, there is no way I’m going down without a fight. I stay quiet, I sit there staring from one detective to another thinking, planning and plotting my next move to throw these pigs off my scent.

***

 

21:30 hours: Wandsworth Police Station, London.

 

“Today is the 10th July 2012, this interview is conducted in interview room two at Wandsworth Police Station the interview will be recorded via tape. I’m Detective David Black present is Detective Stephen Jones, for the purposes of the tape please confirm your full name?’’

“Charlotte Price- Smith”

“And your date of birth please?”

“2nd February 1982.”

“And your name please sir? For the purposes of the tape.”

“Ron Peters from Peters and Field solicitors, representing the rights and interests of Ms. Price-Smith today.’’

“Charlotte you’re detained on suspicion of the murder of Christina Andrews-Campbell, you don’t have to saying anything, but anything you do say maybe used in a court of law as evidence against you do you understand?’’

“Yes”

As Detective Black kicks off his questioning, he eyes the young beauty in front of him tall, blonde hair, piercing green eyes framed by dark lashes and eyebrows, the only sign that she is not a natural blonde. He can’t help but wonder why a decent looking girl like this would get herself mixed up with a hood rat like Joseph Andrews.

“Charlotte, how do you know Joseph Andrews?’’

“We met back in college years ago, ran into each other again at a party.”

“And what was your relationship like with him, back in college?’’

“Just mates.”

“Nothing more?’’

“Not then, no.”

“And now? What kind of relationship have the two of you got?’’

Detective Black watches Charlotte throw back her head and flick her blonde hair from her shoulder, she takes on a confident stance and looks him dead in the eye. She then leans forward over the old wooden table and gets up close to Detective Black. He can feel the sarcasm dripping from her body language and voice.

“He’s my boyfriend of course.”

“He is, you talk in the present tense Charlotte, for how long has he been your boyfriend as you say?”

“A month or so now.”

“Are you aware that he’s married?’’

“Yes, but he always told me he’d leave her when the time is right.”

“Did the two of you ever break up?”

“Never.”

“So, Mr. Andrews, never once tried to break things off with you for any reason?”

“You heard, no, never he loves me. We love each other, no he has never broken up with me or tried to.”

   Gotta ya!  Detective Black smiles, he knows one of the two is lying, he has a feeling it’s Ms. Over Confident sitting in front of him. The evidence he has seen on Joseph’s phone clearly shows heated debates between the pair as Joseph tried to step away from her, and the relationship. He changes pace, he places some evidence in front of her.

“Charlotte could you confirm the mobile phone number that Joseph contracts you on out loud for me please?’’

Charlotte rolls her eyes and pouts at Detective Black.

“07958 654 250.’’

“Perfect, and this is the only number he’d ever contact you on?”

“Yes.’’

“Charlotte take a look at this print out of text messages sent between your number and Joseph Andrew’s, it would appear that Joseph had in fact tried to break things off with you.” Detective Black slides four A4 sheets of paper with text messages printed out, from both suspect’s phones. Charlotte snatches up the paper and flushes.

“You were saying Charlotte? The two of you never broke up. Joseph Andrews never once tried to break things off with you?”

“He never meant it, he was just messing around.”

Detective Black resists the urge to push her further on this point, the evidence contradicts what she’s already said, he is satisfied–for now.

“Did it not bother you at any point being involved with a married man?  Did his wife ever suspect anything?’’

“No, like I said he loves me.’’

“Do you know what she looks like?’’

“Yes.”

“Charlotte do you know who this is in the photo?”

Detective Black slides the same photo he showed to Joseph across the table.

 “Yeah it’s her.”

Detective Black sits up in his chair he registers the bitter response to his question, the way Charlotte dismissed her, there was no emotion from the disturbing sight shown in the picture the forensic team took of Christina the night she was killed.

“Where were you on July 8th, what did you do that day?’’

 

I think back to two days ago, where was I? I don’t know exactly how much the police know.

“I went to work, then the gym and came home.’’

“What gym did you go to?’’

“Fit Bods in Bromley.”

“Around what time did you arrive and leave?’’

“Probably about 4:30 pm I arrived, and left around 6:30 pm.” Detective Black makes a mental note to check out the gym for an alibi.

“When was the last time you saw Joseph?”

“Last week, Wednesday night.”

“What did the two of you do?”

“We went to dinner and then made love… all night, he stayed at mine.”  Charlotte responds in a sarcastic tone, with a full blown smirk.

“Where did you go for dinner?’’

“He took me to a posh restaurant on Fulham Road, the Tiger’s Head nice Thai place you should try it, Detective.”  I lean forward and fix Detective Black with a lustful look, I’m just messing with him for fun. I watch him shuffle in his seat across the table.

“Charlotte who paid for dinner? And how did they pay?’’

“He paid, credit card.”

 Bingo, Ms. Over Confident has given me enough information for one day to cross check, already she looks suspicious her story contradicts Joseph’s in places, her body language shows no remorse for her role she played in the affair with Joseph.

“Did everything seem normal with him, last Wednesday over dinner?”

“Yes, he told me he loves me, and wants a divorce so we can get married.”

’Detective Black looks Charlotte up and down crossing and uncrossing her legs under the table, twirling her hair around her finger and smiling at him. Suspect #1 for sure. Detective Black’s deep clipped voice abruptly cuts in. “This interview is terminated at 22.30 hours.”

“If you’ve not charged me you need to let me go, I know my rights.”

“Correct Charlotte we’ve not charged you, however we have the right to remand suspects in serious crimes, in your case I’d say make yourself comfortable you’ll be here pending further investigation.”

Detective Black stops the tape recording and stands up, eager to deposit Ms. Over Confident in the reception area for the paperwork to be done, and crack on with this investigation.  He smells a rat– a big one.

                                                                      ***

Three hours later I’m hunched over my desk pouring over the dozens of text messages exchanged between my two suspects. I have no doubt in my mind one of them is guilty if they hadn’t worked together to conspire, and carry out the murder of Christina. I’ve already directed my team on what leads to follow up, a drop-in call on Joseph’s mother to verify the young man’s whereabouts following his departure from the Andrews- Campbell home, further analysis of both suspect’s mobile phone usages, especially around the date and time of Christina’s murder. Tomorrow morning Fit Bods Gym will be the first point of call, to verify Charlotte’s whereabouts, and the Thai restaurant she claimed she and Joseph dined at would take a hit also.

I’ve got ninety three hours left in counting to nail someone with Christina’s murder. I consider myself a fair man, I like to check everything out in detail, it matters when it comes to presenting a case to the Crown Prosecution Service, hit ‘em with the evidence they can’t turn away is my saying.

Following the initial interview with both Joseph and Charlotte there are holes in both suspect’s stories, contradiction over the type of relationship that they have or had depending on who you believe. Not to mention a big question mark over why Ms. Over Confident decided to state that the pair had never broken up.

***

I’m a good girl the kind of girl you’d be friends with, take home to your mum for Sunday dinner– I don’t belong here. The confinement of these four walls and brown stained toilet pan is not something I can to get used to.

I sit, chain smoke, and contemplate my story for Detective Black. Sure, I may have exaggerated the truth over the kind of relationship Joseph and I have, yes, he’s tried to break up with me… I know he never meant it. We are made for each other, he just could not see it, she got in the way forever on his back about money, what time he’d be home. She never understood him like I do, and there was no way I was going to let him go. Not now we’ve come so far. I’ve invested in him–in us, waiting patiently for him to leave her I wasn’t then, and I’m not now prepared to lose out. Back in the day, she was always his fall back no matter how many other girls he dated or messed around with,  he’d go running back to her, she was the magic pussy back then and it pissed me off that she still  is or  was.

Christina and I were not exactly friends, we tolerated each other, to her I was the token middle class white girl that the boys would pay attention to. Before I revamped my looks an went blonder, my naturally dark raven coloured hair, striking green eyes and curves were what drew them in. She herself was a looker. We spoke in passing only. She was naturally Ms. Popular and decided when, where and how often we spoke back then. I was no real competition for her, but she always paid attention to me, I could tell.

Whenever Joseph and I spoke she’d look me up and down a silent warning to look but don’t touch. When Joseph and I started seeing each other all these years later I’d remember those days, when I was an outsider and how she’d look me up and down and laugh. Who’s looking and not touching now bitch?  I’d think to myself with Joseph laid up in my bed, eating my breakfast I’d prepared for him, as she was unable to manage anything but a sandwich when it came to cooking, according to Joseph. Now she’s dead, and I’m in the spotlight, but at least I still have Joseph.

***

I stay off the radar when it comes to the law, police in my view are the lowest of the low, they profile and stereotype men like me every day. People think it’s just African – American men who are prey to police. They are dead wrong, here in London, it’s no better just because they don’t carry guns and can’t bear arms against us, don’t mean the situation isn’t as bad. Now they wanna suspect me of murder, and probably dig up God knows what else as well, start asking questions over my “legitimate business dealings.”

Christina, was the biggest mistake of my life, I should never have married her.

Three hours in this cell has already shown me that the thug and prison life are not for me, there’s no way I’m going down for this no way. I’ll do whatever it takes.

***

 

12 hours later:

“Gentlemen, on the 8th July 2012 Christina Andrews-Campbell was murdered, she was stabbed, strangled and had her throat slit, it was a pretty violent murder. She was married to Joseph Andrews who was also having an affair with Charlotte Price- Smith.”

I pause and look around at the team eagerly taking notes, as I point to the picture of Christina on the whiteboard.

“Here we have Joseph Andrews thirty-one years old, raised in one of south London’s roughest districts.  He has a history of dabbling in narcotics, but we’ve never been able to pin anything on him, the lucky shit, he knows how to run his businesses well.”

“Here we have Charlotte Price- Smith thirty years old born and raised in the leafy suburbs just outside of south London- Bromley by ‘mummy and daddy’, she’s a paediatric Nurse at Lewisham Hospital and is the other woman Joseph’s involved with romantically, and sexually.”

“Both suspects could have possible motives for murder. Andrews wanted to leave his marriage for the other suspect possibly, Price- Smith may have been the jealous other woman, this of course needs to be proven for both suspects. So, what have you got for me?”

I take a seat around the large conference table and look around at the team for answers, I want them and fast. PC Browne speaks up first.

“Sir Joseph’s alibi can be confirmed he called round to see his mother, her statement confirms he did arrive at her home a few days before Christina’s murder, and remained with her up until his arrest.”

“Okay, could she confirm his time of arrival and his behaviour?’’

PC Browne pulls out and flips open his black note book, and reads out Ms. Andrew’s statement.

“He arrived a few days ago in the late evening distressed, he stayed with me, during the time he was here he seemed calm but withdrawn over his constant arguments with Christina. This is her statement sir.”

“Okay so, he’s telling the truth so far, what else?”

“Sir, we searched the flat Charlotte currently rents and found a handful of diaries she’d kept over the last year, we also found a collage that she’d put together with dozens of pictures of Joseph hidden away, antidepressants and various other mood stabilising medication.”

I look up and a smile breaks out across my face.

“Now we’re talking, what’s in the diaries?”

“A quick glance showed us a lot of personal thoughts and feelings around her relationship with Joseph, how she disliked his wife, talk of the kind of future she wants with Joseph that kind of –a thing’’

“They’ve been seized for evidence?’’

“Yes sir, of course.”

“And the meds? You need to find out what they are for, contact her GP get her medical records up and find out what she’s so depressed about.”

“Yes sir”

“All right, good job Browne.” PC Seller cuts in.

“Sir, we went to the gym to verify Charlotte’s alibi, the manager on shift was not around so we have the CCTV tape, and a record of her usage at the gym for this month.”

“Excellent, I want you to watch the tape let me know what you find.” “Yes sir.”

“Sir, we checked out the restaurant in Fulham Charlotte said she and Joseph went to when they last saw each other, there was no reservation so it was hard to tell if the story is true. We have the restaurant’s CCTV tape for the full week of the date Charlotte gave.”

“Excellent, with no reservation for dinner the CCTV will show if they did or did not enter the restaurant at all that week, watch it and report back.’’

My team have done good so far, we have more evidence to cross check. I stand up and walk over to the whiteboard and face them.

“Okay, fifteen hours have passed us, team A. find out what you can about the relationship with Joseph from the diaries and get a profile on her, contact the GP, we’re looking for evidence that would support a motive for murder, got it?’’

“Team B. interview Joseph again, find out how the affair started, double check the date in Fulham he and Charlotte had, when they last saw each other and when he last saw Christina alive. Check out the story on the credit card payment at the restaurant in Fulham, and watch the CCTV tape from the restaurant and let me know what you find. Everyone got that?”

“Detective Jones, you’re with me, we’re gonna pay a visit to Charlotte’s parents and interview her. Gentlemen, we’ve had a total of fifteen hours including the three hours the suspects have been in custody on this already, we have twenty- one left to nail one or both of them with something, let’s get to work.”

As his team disappear and set off to work on their allocated areas, Detectives Black and Jones huddle around the whiteboard looking at their suspects, their ties are loosened and they sip cool water deep in thought.

“What’s your gut tell you about these two?’’ Detective Black turns to Jones for his opinion. “Something’s definitely off with them, she clearly thinks they are a couple and have more than he thinks they do. Then there’s her diaries.”

Jones shakes his head and takes a long sip of his water, not taking his eyes away from Charlotte’s photo he continues.

“Shows you just how much she’s into this guy, she wants him for herself.”

“Hmm, you think she done it?’’

Detective Jones, pauses before he responds, his eyes fix on both suspect’s mug shots.

“Could be either of them they both have strong motives, we see what the diaries have to say if it puts her more in the frame than him.  If she’s twisted the story about her whereabouts and the dinner date with Joseph then she’s toast, unless something crops up on our guy.”

“Maybe they worked together?”

“Strong possibility there needs to be a link made.’’

“Well, we’ve got twenty one hours let’s head over to Bromley drop the bad news on mummy and daddy that their little girl’s a prime suspect in a murder investigation.”

Detective Black pats Jones on the back and glances at his watch, it’s 10:15 a.m. the two men leave the meeting room and head over to south east London’s pretty suburbs.

 

Thank you for reading! I am hard at work completing this project. Sometimes, it’s good to go back to your old work with a fresh mid-set, and thirst for writing. I hope all those writers who have taken part in National Novel Writing Month #NaNoWriMo are making great progress. Let’s get a project completed all of us!

 

 

 

 

 

Week #4: THE CRIME SCENE – A Short Story #kdsuspense #amwriting #crime #shortstory

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CRIME SCENE

 

The Crime Scene

AUTHOR ONE: SCENE ONE

23:12 p.m. Down Town Los Angeles

“Evening, Detective McBride. This is Detective Flynn, what ya got for us?”

As Detective Daniel McBride listened to the low down from the LA CSI forensic team, Detective Kate Flynn drowned out the sirens, and low hum of voices as she moved her eyes over the crime scene. Mr Wang’s Chinese restaurant is normally a busy eatery, popular with tourists and locals. Tonight, it’s cornered off with police tape, and the media everywhere. They circled the scene like a hungry pack of wolves waiting to fed. Flynn glanced over at the restaurant, the steel shutters covered with graffiti are lowed over the entrance.

“McBride, I’ll catch you inside okay? I’m gonna head in and take a look.”

McBride nodded and returned his attention to the forensic team. Detective Flynn made her way over the Mr. Wang’s, she eyed the outside of the building and news reporters with a sharp eye. Mel Turner a well-known CNN News reporter caught Detective Flynn’s eye. Mel jogged toward her, as she stepped in line with Flynn’s path she shoved a microphone under her nose, and a camera man zoomed in on the action.

“Detective, Detective do you have any idea who the killer is?”  

“No… not at this point.” Flynn responded avoiding the camera, mindful not to give away too many details. She kept walking at a brisk pace to the crime scene.

“But Detective, you can’t be serious, this is the third murder in one week. You mean to say the LAPD are still clueless about the killer?”

Flynn stopped dead in her tracks, annoyed at the reporter’s bravery. Cleverly, she tried to get a rise out of her with her comment.

“Ma’am get that microphone outta my face. With all due respect, this is a crime scene and y’all need to move away from here.”

Flynn, increased her pace toward Mr. Wang’s, her flat loafers pounded the pavement as a swarm of reporters headed her way. As Flynn approached the restaurant’s entrance, she inhaled a deep breath, cameras flashed behind her.

Bang bang!

“Open up, LAPD.” Flynn announced in a flat tone.

A quick badge flash at the forensic team member, covered in a boiler suit, goggles with camera dangling from his neck gained her access.

“Thanks, Detective Flynn. Can you lead me to the body please?”

“This way Detective.”

Flynn stepped over the threshold of the restaurant into what looked like a regular Friday night occurrence. As she scanned the scene of the crime, it appeared tables were dressed in traditional Chinese cloths, delicious Chinese food  left half eaten along with glasses of wine. The guests must have been horrified to find out their meal had to be interrupted as the LAPD were on their way.

“Where’s the owner?”

“Right this way ma’am.” The forensic responded over his shoulder as he led Flynn into the kitchen area. Mr. Wang sat on a crate with his head in his hands sobbing. Flynn lower herself to his level.

“Mr. Wang, I’m Detective Kate Flynn.”

“Hmm, Detective, my business, my customer! Everybody leave unhappy no money, I need money to send home, my wife in China.”

Flynn watched Mr. Wang’s tears overflow as he threw his arms around in frustration, gesturing to the empty dining area and LAPD and forensic team crawling all over his restaurant.

“Mr. Wang, I need to ask you a few questions in a moment okay?”

“Hmm hmm.” Is all Mr. Wang responded as he lowered his head and wept some more.

With a sigh, Flynn pulled herself up to her full five foot nine height, then glanced at the forensic to her left.

“Right this way, Detective.”

***

“Detective.”

Another forensic in a full body suit acknowledged Flynn’s presence with a nod, as he took photos of the body outside the back area of the restaurant.

“Stephen, hi. Okay what have we got here?”

“Well, as you can see Detective, the victim is a white female, around her late twenties, found behind the dumpster over here as Mr. Wang put out the trash.”

“Hmm, okay. Any obvious cause of death?”

“No stab wounds, or gunshots noticed. We’ll need to wait for the full autopsy report.”

“Okay, don’t fall asleep on this one, contact the coroner’s office asap. I’ll be over there first thing for a report. Prints, evidence, I need that on my desk before noon tomorrow.”

“Yes ma’am. No problem, Detective.”

Flynn spun on her heel and walked around the outside area of the restaurant, just a small garden area cornered off by a fence. A few dumpsters, bags of trash, nothing appeared obviously out of place. The question was how had the killer gained access to dump the body. She walked over to the open gate and examined the lock another forensic was dusting off, presumably for prints.

“Flynn, how’s it going?”

The sound of Detective McBride’s voice over her shoulder startled her, she was deep in thought, as she imagined what could have motivated the killer to use the back entrance of Mr. Wang’s to dispose the body.

“Not good, white female, late twenties no obvious signs of death as yet.”

McBride rubbed his grey beard, and narrowed his eyes in thought. The contrast of his salted pepper beard against his smooth chocolate skin, gave him a slight Denzel Washington look.

“Shit, same as the other two, hard to say if there’s a link though, they’re the same age group but no connection with the background. One Hispanic and one African- American.”

“Hmm, we need to find out who she is and see.” Flynn responded as she glanced back over at the victim’s body on the floor.

“Right, what about Mr. Wang?”

“He’s inside in tears, concerned over his business, naturally.”

“Take him in, leave no stone unturned. See what he knows.”

“I’m on it.”

McBride watched Flynn make her way back inside the restaurant, then moved his eyes slowly over the scene of the crime.  He felt the sense of urgency he felt every time a crime was committed, especially a murder. Three bodies, one week, three females, late twenties and one killer on the loose. He and Flynn, had work to do.

***

“This is Detective Kate Flynn, today is Monday 28th August 2017. Present is Detective Daniel McBride. This interview is taking place at Los Angeles Police Department, in interview room three. Mr. Wang you are not under arrest, however we’re carrying out routine investigation questions as you were the first one at the crime scene. You are being interviewed under caution, anything you say may be used as evidence in a court of law. For the purposes of the tape can you please confirm your name, and date of birth.”

“My English… no good, I sorry, not perfect.”

“Take your time Mr. Wang, if at any point you don’t understand or need an interpreter please let us know.

Mr. Wang lowered his gaze to the worn brown wooden table, that separated him and the two detectives. He felt nervous, in all his years in America he had never had a brush with the law.

“Okay, I try.”

“Thank you, when you’re ready sir.” McBride reassured him.

“I Chan- Lee Wang, 13th February 1950.”

Flynn took over the questioning, while McBride made swift notes.

“Thank you. Mr. Wang are you the owner of Mr. Wang’s Chinese eatery in downtown Los Angeles?”

“Yes.”

“And for how long have you owned that establishment sir?”

“Since I in America.”

“Which was when please sir, when did you arrive?”

“Ten years, 2000.”

“Thank you. Mr. Wang. Can you tell us in your own words what happened tonight, when you found the body?”

Mr. Wang hesitated, the shock of finding a body on his premises put the fear of God into him.

“Okay, okay. I clean plate, put food in trash bag, tie bag and go outside to dumpster… then… then.”

Mr. Wang places his hands over his face, as he broke down sobbing again. He is inaudible behind his sobs. McBride and Flynn glanced at each other, mindful this could all be an act. McBride cleared his throat and took over the lead.

“Mr. Wang if you could continue please sir, when you’re ready.”

“Yes, yes. I go outside to dumpster and push bin to wall, too far forward, not in right place… Then it no push. I look down, behind, I see body.”

“And then what did you do?”

“I ran inside, call police.”

“Did you touch the body at all?”

“No sir … No no no way.”

“Did you recognise the victim?”

“No.”

“Does anyone else have access to your property Mr. Wang?”

Slowly, Mr. Wang shook his head as if deep in thought.

“No, nobody.”

Feeling as though the interview was leading to a dead end, McBride closed the interview, pending further investigation.

“Thank you, Mr. Wang. That will be all for tonight, it’s late you’ll be released with no further questions– for now.

***

8:00 a.m. The Coroner’s Office

“Good to see you Kate as always, under such sad circumstances but good nonetheless.”

Dr. Solvinac eyed Flynn over his half-moon glasses, as he finished off his autopsy report.

He took in her tall stature, and short blonde hair. On the outside Flynn was all business, and radiated more of a masculine air about her. Her tailored dark pant suits, low heel loafers, bare fingernails and lack of cosmetics, gave nothing personal away about her or any kind of femininity. Underneath it all, she had a heart of gold. Over the years the two had become close, since she transferred to the LAPD from the Nevada Police Department, Las Vegas.

“Morning Doc, good to see you too.”

Flynn approached the table with caution, on top was the victim from last night. Her pale skin contrasted against her blonde hair.

“So, who is she?”

“Here we have Danielle Bray. Her ID was in her pocket, oddly. The killer must have taken off with her purse.”

“I see, what else do you know?” Flynn pressed as she followed Dr. Solvinac around the table.

“Thirty five years old, a drinker quite heavy, probably been dead around twenty four hours before she was found. Prior to that she had intercourse, semen was present in her mouth and internally, the semen however is mixed there was more than one man.”

“Thirty five! She looks so much younger! McBride and I were sure she was in her twenties.”

“They all look young in death, Kate. Danielle is in her thirties according to her photo ID, and the autopsy I done.”

“I see, and you say more than one man? And the cause of death?”

“Strangulation, not with the hands, more like stockings or some such thing. There was a struggle too. And yes, just to make your job that much harder there were two semen samples found.”

“She was a busy lady.”

“She sure was, I’ll run a check on the samples and come back to you as soon as I can.”

Flynn, bit the inside of her lip and looked over Danielle’s body slowly.

“Thanks Doc, I’ll be in contact.”

“No problem, see you when the next one turns up.” Dr. Solvinac lightly chuckles.

“That’s not funny Doc, we’re gonna find him.”

“Or her, you never know…” Dr. Solvinac retorts.

***

“Hey, what’s the latest.”

“She’s thirty five.”

“Thirty five, get outta here, really?”

“Yes really, death by strangulation too. Danielle Bray.”

“Hold on a sec, lemme run her name through the database see what it throws up.”

“There’s more, two semen samples present.”

McBride let out a low whistle on the other end of the line.

“I’m on my way to base, see you soon.” Flynn, pressed end on the call to McBride, threw her car in gear and took off.

***

“Morning boss.”

“Morning.” Flynn responded as she made her way through the open plan office, of the LA Police department, to McBride’s office. As she opened the door her partner was slumped in his chair, deep in concentration looking at his screen. Ever the snappy dresser today McBride had on his pink shirt open at the neck, with no tie and a pair of black braces. Gold cuff links sparkled at his wrists. Without so much of a greeting Flynn got to business.

“So, what’s up, anything come up?”

“Yep, she works over at the bank on Main Street. Minor records on driving offences, drinking under the influence a few years back. Her next of kin is Leena Bray her younger sister.”

“Right, we better pay a visit and give her the news, then come back and see if this case links up with Kelsey Lopez and DeLisa Jones.” McBride responded as he stood up and reached for his suit jacket.

“Hard to say, Kelsey Lopez, Hispanic, poor, unemployed, DeLisa Jones African- American from a good background, with a nine-five. What the hell could these three women all have in common?”

McBride blew out a slow breath at Flynn’s question. “Wrong place, and the wrong time that’s all we know for now.”

***

“Can I help you?”

“Detective McBride, this here is Detective Flynn.”

McBride flashed his badge, and Colgate white smile at the pretty blonde who opened the door. Flynn remained poker faced, and unfazed.

“Are you Leena Bray?” McBride questioned.

“Yes.”

“We need to speak to you about your sister, Danielle. May we come in please?”

“Sure.”

Lena moved to one side, full of confusion she let the detectives into her home. Flynn and McBride walked into Leena’s neat and tidy small condo apartment. Both detectives looked around alert, as they tried to pick up clues about the lifestyle this young lady led.

“Take a seat, would either of you like something to drink?”

“No thanks I’m fine.”

“I’m fine too, thank you.”

“Well, all right, take a seat.” Leena nervously gestured to the seating area.

All three of them lowered themselves to the coach. Flynn, took control.

“Leena, your sister’s body was found late last night.”

“What? Where? How… I just spoke to her the day before yesterday and.. Are you kidding me?” Leena’s pretty face moulded itself into a pleading look.

“No, afraid not. She was found behind a dumpster, by Mr. Wang’s downtown.”

“Downtown? What the hell was she doing there?” The disgust was clear in Leena’s voice.

“When was the last time you saw your sister?”

“I spoke to her the day before yesterday, she had some hot date to go on as always.”

“Did she say who it was with?”

“Some guy named Ryan, she met him online, via an advert he placed.”

“Did she say anything else?”

“Nope, just filled me in on her crazy love life as usual and how things were going at the bank.”

AUTHOR TWO: SCENE TWO.

***

“What do you have for me?” Flynn asked the uniformed officer waiting by an interrogation room. “This better be as urgent as you claim, we don’t want any repeats of last time.”

Officer Dannally lowered his head in shame. Remembering his false alarm. He’d pulled Flynn from the the actual scene of a crime the very hour the act took place. He looked up at her from beneath his bushy unibrow that stood out against his pale skin. He cleared the lump from his throat before he spoke.

“Yes, ma’am,” he forced through a timid voice. “I have a security guard from a night club downtown. He’s been watching the news and claims to have seen each victim the night of their attacks.”

“Hmmm.” Detective Flynn nodded at the Officer Dannally in approval. “Do you think he’s telling the truth?”

“Seems so, yes,” he answered, still a little embarrassed at her recognition of his last big mistake.

“Has he been briefed and aware of the camera?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Mcbride chimed in, “I think we should both go in with this one, don’t you boss?”

“Agreed.”

Mcbride forced open the heavy metal door to a cramped interrogation room. The walls were a dark gray, and the floors thinly industrial grade carpeted. The supposed security guard sat on the opposite side of an elongated fold up table. It separated him from the two entering detectives. Flynn reached her hand across the table first to greet him.

“Sir. I’m Detective Flynn and this is my partner Detective Mcbride.”

The man stood to return the courteous introduction. He was tall, well over six feet with wide shoulders and a sharpe serious look on his smooth mocha face. His dark eyes explored the length of Flynn’s tailored, form fitting suit. After an obvious smirk consumed his face and he adjusted the belt line of his pants, he shook her hand first. His grip was purposefully weak but his hand was big enough to completely engulf hers. The warmth of his rough skin mixed with the way he undressed her with his eyes made her cringe.

“Detective.” He smiled.

Flynn ran a hand down the front buttons of her suit as she took a seat, wholly uncomfortable, which was rare. Not many men were capable of getting under her skin, but this particular one had that look. The look of someone hiding a twisted secret. Something disgusting lurked behind his undressing glare. Flynn’s detective intuition charged full speed ahead, alerting every part of her that something was off with this guy. Her heart pounded in her chest trying to get out. But, she put it in check and put her most collected face on show.

After shaking Mcbride’s hand in just the same fashion, they both took their seat, joining Flynn at the table. Mcbride didn’t waste any time.

“So you say that you’re a security guard at a club down town?” He asked.

“Yep, the Boom Room,” he beamed, looking mostly at Flynn. “Been there for five years now.”

“I’m sorry,” Flynn jumped in. “I don’t think we caught your name?”

“Thomas Toby, or Tom if you’d rather.” He threw her a wink.

“I’ll stick with Thomas,” Flynn mumbled with disgust.

Mcbride placed his large black leather briefcase on the table and began rummaging through photos of each victim. Soon a snapshot of each girl before their murders was laid out on the table.

“So Thomas,” Mcbride said, “You claim that you’ve seen each of these girls in the club within this last week?”

“Yep, every one.” He sat up a little taller in his seat, seeming proud of himself.

“And you’re sure of it?”

“Without a doubt.”

“What else can you tell us? Anything you can think of is helpful.”

“Well, like I said, I’ve been working there for five years. I can tell you a lot actually.”

Thomas scratched his chin with his thumb and forefinger in thought. It wasn’t a look of straining to remember, so much as pondering on how much to actually give away. Finally he nodded to himself as if to confirm the direction he wanted to take. Then he grinned the same proud smirk he sported while shaking Flynn’s hand and blurted out his words.

“They’re escorts. Everyone of them.”

Both Flynn and Mcbride perked up in their seats.

“That’s impossible,” Flynn said. “Not one friend or family member said anything about this. Trust me, we’ve asked every single one.”

“They wouldn’t know, now would they?” Thomas grinned. “Would your daughter want to tell you she was a prostitute?”

“I thought you said escort?” Mcbride corrected.

“Yes, of course.” Thomas rolled his eyes, peeling them away from Flynn to finally give Mcbride his attention.” I can’t speak for this one,” he said while pointing at the Hispanic girl, Kelsey. “She was new to that crew and seemed to carry herself with more class. But blondie here was well known for how deep her deep throat could go, if you know what I mean.”

“So you actually know these women?” Flynn asked, “You didn’t just see them”  She accentuated the way she announced ‘see’ while signaling quotations in the air with her fingers.

“I wouldn’t go that far, ma’am.” Thomas corrected her with a giant grin and while holding both palms in the air as if to playfully surrender. “I haven’t actually spoken to any of these women, but they come into the club very often. And, I know their boss well.”

“How well?” Mcbride asked.

Thomas’ smile spread nearly from ear to ear. He leaned across the table on his elbow, and spoke in a low menacing voice, “He’s my brother.”

***

“Officer Dannally?”

“Yes, ma’am?”

He stood immediately at attention as the door to the interrogation room slammed behind Mcbride and Flynn.

“I want several search warrants, and I need them within two hours or less. Do whatever you have to do to get them rushed through. We have to act fast before night rolls around. We have a lot of new information, and several leads. I want them all looked into before we have any more victims on our hands.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Grab a pen, I don’t want you messing this one up.”

 

***  

Toby Enterprise was located in the heart of downtown L.A. on a skyrise overlooking the city. Mr. Jarek Toby, Thomas’ brother, stood by his corner office window with arms folded tightly across his massive chest. The resemblance between him and his brother was uncanny, and he gave Detective Flynn the same uneasy feeling… Maybe even worse. She paced the large open room, taking in every book and photo on his overstuffed shelves.

“Tell me again why you’re here.” Jarek grumbled.

“We’re here to talk about your escort service.” Mcbride said, while sitting perfectly calm and collected in a fluffy black leather chair. One ankle propped up on the other knee and hands casually set in his lap.

“I no longer run an escort service.”

One side of Jarek’s lip curled up and his eyes danced with the excitement of a skilled liar.

“Yes Mr. Toby, we’re well aware that the operation was shut down three years ago for prostitution.”

“Which brings me to ask again. Why are you here?”

Mcbride sat forward and lowered his eyes. “Because we’re also aware that your previous clientele upped the price they were willing to pay you to keep the business running under the radar.”

The smirk on Jarek’s face quickly melted away, yet he stuck to claiming his innocence in the matter.

“Toby Enterprise is strictly a holdings company. I buy out businesses, break them down and sell them for a very substantial profit. The escort side of things was a liability. There never has been a need to do anything under the radar. With all do respect Detectives, you’re looking in the wrong place.”

“We have three dead girls on our hands who I’m sure would beg to differ if they were able.” Flynn said, as she stopped to take a closer look at a photo.

The still frame she stopped at sat next to one of Jarek and Thomas together on the beach. It clearly ranked up there with family and it instantly raised the hairs on Flynn’s arms.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Jarek insisted.

Flynn turned on her heels, and held up the photo. “Mr, Toby?” She asked. “Explain to me exactly how you and are brother are both so closely acquainted with Mr. Wang as to be in a photo with him and his entire family?”

“We did business years ago.”

“What kind of business?”

Jarek remained stone faced, yet the color of his ears darkened from a very light brown to a deep scarlet. “Toby Enterprise was a silent partner for Mr. Wang’s restaurant.” He paused as a spark of recognition lit on his face. “Wait a minute. How do you know my little brother?”

Mcbride chuckled, “Wow, you really are in deeper shit than you realize, aren’t you?”

“Okay, what the fuck did that low life tell you exactly?” Jarek scowled, the anger rising in the back of his throat.

“That’s beside the point.” Flynn interjected. “What do you mean was a silent partner?”

“Mr. Wang screwed us out of millions, and at the same time drove a wedge between Thomas and me. When I said I stopped running the escort business, I didn’t mean the entire business stopped.”

“Well Mr. Toby. Why don’t you fill us in on exactly what you do mean.” Flynn said with one hand on her hip and the other still holding the photo in the air. “Also, why don’t you explain to us why you keep these photos in your office if the hate for these individuals is so clear?”

Jarek slumped forward in defeat. With his weight supported by his elbows on his desk he buried his face in the palms of his enormous hands. He pulled in a large breath of oxygen and then let it out very slowly, while rubbing his hands up and down his face.

“You don’t know my brother,” Jarek said. “There’s a reason he’s doing this. He must have finally found out about the affair.” He rubbed his face again with the palm of his hands, this time much rougher, and much more urgently. His demeanor flipped from irritation to an odd sense of urgency and fear.

“What affair Jarek?” Mcbride asked, “Explain quickly please. We’re running short on time, and I’m running short on patience.”

Jarek let out a long breath of anxious air, his cheeks blowing out like a balloon. He reached over the top of his desk, holding a hand out for the photo. Flynn handed it over willingly and finally took a seat in the chair next to Mcbride. She gave Jarek her full and undivided attention, knowing that whatever he had to say must be big. Jarek began pointing at the faces on the picture.

“This man here is Chin-Lou Wang, he his Mr. Wang’s brother. This woman is Sue-Lee and she is Chin-Lou’s daughter. Thomas was engaged to her when she and I had an affair. When Mr. Wang and his brother found out about the affair he threatened to tell Thomas as well as my wife. The escort business was under investigation at the time. So I backed out of our silent partnership in the restaurant giving Mr. Wang full profit. Then I handed the escort’s clientele over to Chin-Lou to run quietly after it’s downfall through Toby Enterprise.”

Detective Mcbride leaned back in his chair and said, “I can imagine Thomas wasn’t very happy about you handing over the business like that?”

“Not at all. Especially when I wouldn’t tell him why I went over his head.” Jarek shook his head in shame. The grief was visible in the purse of his lips and the wrinkle between his brows from pulling them together.

“What happened between Thomas and Sue-Lee?” Flynn asked. “And if you handed over the escort services then why would Thomas say you still run it?”

“Sue-Lee died in a car accident shortly after it all happened. Thomas didn’t take it all very well. He signed over all of his shares of the business to the staff and then took off. I haven’t seen or heard from him since.”

“Hmm…” The wheels in Flynn’s head were turning like a well oiled machine. There had to be something else. Something they were missing.

“Like I said.” Jarek continued. “My brother is a dangerous man. He sent you here knowing that I’d spill the beans. He wouldn’t have done that unless he has something planned… Something big.”

“Do you have anything to hide, Mr. Toby?” Flynn asked. “Any other reason for your brother to send the police to your office? He’s clearly out for revenge. If he wanted us to find out that Mr. Wang’s brother ran a prostitution service then he would have sent us straight there. This is more than just a wild goose chase, you must have something else to hide.”

“No ma’am, I swear I told you everything I can think of.”

Before anyone had the chance to say anything else, there was a loud knock on the door. Four uniformed men barged in, the first holding up an official document.

“Officer Dannally, I’m glad to see you finally made it.” Flynn stood and took the document from the officer’s hand before turning back to Jarek. “Jarek Toby you are hereby under arrest. You a have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney, and if you can’t afford one, then one will be appointed to you. You have been charged with tax evasion.”

“You can’t prove anything!” Jarek shouted over his shoulder, cutting her off. A pair of shiny cuffs clicked as they secured his wrists in place behind his back.

Flynn turned her back to him as she reached into her pocket to answer the phone call ringing in. “Detective Kate Flynn here.”

“Kate, it’s Dr. Slovinac down at the coroner’s office.”

“It’s great to hear from you Doc. Please tell me you have something useful.”

“We have a match to one of our seman samples.”

“And, who was the lucky guy?”

“The specimen in her mouth came up as one Thomas Toby. Does the name ring a bell?”

“Yes Doc. Thank you. Call me as soon as anything else comes through.

Flynn clicked off her phone and slid it back to is place in her pocket. She turned to face Mcbride, “It seems like our boy Jarek here was telling the truth. It’s time to use our next warrant and pay Thomas a little visit.

As they made their way to the door amongst the chaos of the officers searching Jarek’s office a menacing laughter crackled through the air. Mcbride turned back around his face twisted in confusion.

“Is something funny, Mr. Toby?”

“You’re dead!” he laughed. “My brother is going to kill every last one of you mother fuckers.”

Who wants part #2?? Thank you for reading & voting for this writing prompt we loved this week’s challenge, we could write this story more!

🙂

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This Is How Kim & Didi’s Suspenseful Collection Works!

We never discuss beforehand how a story should go or who writes what. It’s a surprise for each other to see how their story ends, or what lands in their inbox to finish off.

This interactive writing challenge is simple and insanely creative. It’s a group effort and we are so glad to have you join in the writing fun!!  I hope you’re ready to challenge us by choosing which prompts we can transform into stellar suspense!  Give us your best shot!  You vote on our weekly prompt, and we provide the entertainment. It’s that simple!  The super easy steps are as follows:

STEP ONE: Every Wednesday we’ll post a voting poll with a few prompts to choose from.
STEP TWO: With the click of a button, you cast your vote on a prompt. (voting will stay open for three days.) Once the winning prompt is announced you can join us and write a story too. Use #kdsuspense to link in.
STEP THREE: READ AND ENJOY!  Every week on the following Tuesday we will post the short story that transformed from the very winning prompt.

Read Previous Stories Here!

And The Most Voted For Writing Prompt is: A Crime Scene… Damn Kim’s excited!! #kdsuspense #amwriting #crimefiction

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CRIME SCENE

 

Thank you, thank you and THANK YOU!! For all your votes on Twitter and the blogs this week. This week Didi and I asked you to vote for your favourite type of movie scene.  This week we will start a story at random, with the most voted for type of scene. It was a close call between romantic comedy – first date and a crime scene.  However, a crime scene won the vote. We are SO excited,  as suspense authors we do love a bit of crime fiction. While Didi likes to write them (characters) a little psycho, I like to keep it fast paced and edgy so this should be a GOOD week, as we join forces again!  Don’t forget we’d love to see your stories , please write with us. Start your story at random with a crime scene and let us see. Post your link on one of our blogs and share with #kdsuspense. We’ll catch you Tuesday. Have a wonderful Bank Holiday weekend if you’re in the UK.

This Is How Kim & Didi’s Suspenseful Collection Works!

We never discuss beforehand how a story should go or who writes what. It’s a surprise for each other to see how their story ends, or what lands in their inbox to finish off.

This interactive writing challenge is simple and insanely creative. It’s a group effort and we are so glad to have you join in the writing fun!!  I hope you’re ready to challenge us by choosing which prompts we can transform into stellar suspense!  Give us your best shot!  You vote on our weekly prompt, and we provide the entertainment. It’s that simple!  The super easy steps are as follows:

STEP ONE: Every Wednesday we’ll post a voting poll with a few prompts to choose from.
STEP TWO: With the click of a button, you cast your vote on a prompt. (voting will stay open for three days.) Once the winning prompt is announced you can join us and write a story too. Use #kdsuspense to link in.
STEP THREE: READ AND ENJOY!  Every week on the following Tuesday we will post the short story that transformed from the very winning prompt.

Read Previous Stories Here!

updated-telling-tales-weekly-challenege-kim-didi53

Now It Feels Real!! The Postman Just Arrived Arrrgh!! @Didi_Oviatt #newrelease #kdsuspense #amreading

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wp_20170730_002.jpgNow it all feels even more real, to see my latest works in paperback, not just on Amazon in e-book. To feel it physically in my hand makes my heart race! Didi Oviatt and I done it!! Our debut work together  in one anthology all 50,000 odd words of it. So proud to have this author’s name on a cover with mine, she’s extremely talented and  a friendship has grown.  The covers look fantastic, even if I say so myself. Really chuffed with both books.  Didi and I will be back at the end of July… which is like next week! With Kim and Didi’s Suspenseful Collection spinning tales for you. I look forward to it.

MiracleChallenge week# 7: Negative Thoughts Short Story-Continued

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REBLOGGING MY OLD FAVOURITES I ENJOYED WRITING 🙂

Ok, so this week, I’ve seen MiracleGirl’s (awesome) word prompt writing challenges, and decided to continue on from the short crime fiction story I wrote for week #5’s challenge, that was  her ” Negative Thoughts” writing challenge. If you’ve not read the first half of the challenge’s short story already you can by clicking here. This is the continued short story in response to week #7’s writing challenge. Write  a short story using the writing prompt: “make yourself comfortable I’ll be back in a minute“.

Short Story Continued: Negative Thoughts

My mind for one second quietens down, it’s like I manage to tune out  the voices in my head. I stop rocking. I look around and take in my surroundings, as if seeing them for the first time in the whole ten years I’ve been detained in this mental institution. The metal frame bed creaks underneath my fragile thin bones, as I move forward and really look around. A dirty brown sink with a leaking tap in the corner, a bedside table- no bedside lamp of course. Oh no “health and safety” they don’t trust me not to smash it to pieces or even worse smash it against one of the many nurses, who check on me every 15 minutes as part of the suicide watch I’m constantly on. A pile of books over in the corner, most of them I’ve read twice over. And that’s it, my home- bare to the bone. A large metal door with a cut-out  toughened plastic glass window takes up the top half of the door, this separates me from the outside world. They look in, I look out.  We play a game- we see who has the balls to stare the longest. Normally it’s me, I love freaking them out-especially the new ones. I stare right through them with a half smile on my face. They can’t stand to look at me for a full 30 seconds, these nurses on suicide watch are weak. They all think I’m a nut job so naturally I give them what they want, for my own entertainment of course when the mood takes me. To them, as long as I’m breathing, not bleeding, or chocking that’s all they care about.

The absence of the  voices in my head allow me to think back clearly to the day. The day my life changed…. I murdered every living member of my immediate family. I go back ten years in my mind to the day I was arrested, and charged with murder as a minor at just 16 years old.

“Sit down, make yourself comfortable.” 

 The Detective said to me as he loosened my handcuffs in interview room 2, at the police station.

”I’m Detective Jones and this is Detective Brown. Today is 27th July 2015, this interview is  being recorded via tape.”

”For the purpose of the tape, please confirm your full name and date of birth?”

“Sophie, Sophie  Lambert born 14.02.99.” I responded.

”And for the purposes of the tape, sir please confirm your name?”

”David Stephens, Sophie’s solicitor- here to protect her rights and interests today while she is interviewed under caution as she’s a minor.” 

“Sophie, you’re under  arrest for the murder of your father, mother and younger brothers you do not have to say anything, but anything you do say may be used against you as evidence in a court of law. Do you understand?”

I stare at him, smile  sweetly and nod.

”Sophie, what happened tonight? Start from the beginning please.”

“It wasn’t me.”            

”Sophie,  let’s not play games we arrested you with matches and petrol in your hands, it’s all over your clothes you smell like a petrol station. What happened if it was not  you?”

“She told me to,she done it.”

“Who?”

“The voice.”

”What voice?”

”Can’t you hear her? She’s laughing at you Detective Jones.”

I started to laugh along with my voice in my head  at this point, I remember I  pointed at Detective Jones and looked over his shoulder behind him and laughed.

”Sophie, this is not a game… who is SHE and what is her name god damn it. 4 people are dead murdered in a viscous house fire. You were the one at the crime scene with petrol and matches.”

Detective Jones slammed his fist down on the plastic table to punctuate his annoyance with me.

 ”I hear her all the time, only I hear her- she makes me do things .It’s not me she uses my body but it’s not me. She said it was for the best.”

”Sophie, are you saying that you hear actual voices out loud telling you things? Can you clarify this please?”

” Yes.”

I  remember, I stared directly into Detective Jones’ eyes deadly serious with my response. He had heart I gave him that, he never looked away. He wasn’t scared to look into the eyes of a murderer and push them into a confession, all in a day’s work to him I could tell. That pissed me off, he did not believe me, all he wanted was a confession not to help me or see why I really done it. No one believed me not even my parents. I heard these voices all the time for well over a year. No one ever thought to check if I was OK? How I was feeling, why I was crying, harming myself, track marks the length of my full inner arm showed the evidence of how disturbed I was at the time I committed murder. 

I snatched up the cup of water in front of me, and threw it all over Detective Jones and his smug face-ass-hole. Detective Jones jumped up out of his seat, while Detective Brown flew around to my side of the table to  handcuff me. I didn’t protest, I let him have his kick out of  handcuffing a minor 16 year old girl. I looked Jones in the eye, raised an eyebrow and pouted. This guy’s a prick I thought to myself, I decided I no longer liked him he was just like the rest, he didn’t want to help me get better and stop the voices, he wanted me in jail.

”She said you don’t believe me and you’re laughing at me?” I pouted at Detective Jones again and added with a sinister look and low whisper ”She also said… Detective you  were having inappropriate thoughts about me just now. Is that true? I am a minor you know.”

Detective  Jones shook his head and sighed.

” You’re a nut job  kid”

” You need help young lady, I’m ordering a psychiatric report- interview terminated at 21 hundred hours.”

With that Detective Jones, stopped the recording and started to dry his suit down with tissue paper. He leaned in close to me, put his face in mine and looked me dead in the eye, he was so close I smelt the coffee on his breath

” Take a seat, make yourself comfortable (Sophie), I’ll be back in the minute. Young lady you’ll be here for a while.

”F*ck you!”

I spat  at him as he and his side kick Detective Brown walked out of the interview room, leaving me and my solicitor alone. Jones called over his shoulder .

” You’re 16 years old young lady, you better watch that smart mouth of yours!”

I pouted again, and then I heard her  she said ” don’t worry we’ll make sure he gets what’s coming to him.”

https://miraclegirlblog.wordpress.com/2016/07/26/miraclechallenge-week-7-dated-26th-july-1st-august-2016/

 

 

 

 

 

MiracleChallenge Week 5: #4 Negative Thoughts

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REBLOGGING MY OLD FAVOURITES I ENJOYED WRITING 🙂

Writing Prompt

Write a story /poem using the prompt theme ” Negative Thoughts”

Never meant  to hurt anyone or to  start  that fire it just happened, a call for help rather than a malicious act of unkindness. If I’d known it would have hurt others I would never have done it.  I wasn’t in the right state of mind. I sit here in my room on my bed, head down rocking back and fourth, for 10 years  I’ve been detained under the Mental Health Act 1983 for a crime I did while not in the right frame of mind, plagued with negative thoughts.

Each year that passes, I think this year is the year they’ll release me. I can move on with my life. Instead they shuffle their papers and stare at me like a science project ,through the window. I’m watched observed day and night. 

Grief , misery, loneliness and regret are my daily thoughts and feelings. I grieve over the lives I claimed with my actions it wasn’t me it was the negative voices, I’m miserable as my life for 10 years has been within the confinement of these 4 walls, I’m lonely as no one thinks to come and visit me, and I regret that I did not speak up sooner and say I hear  negative voices within me, I regret my

Actions from all those years ago. My community no longer see me as one of them, this is a small town and word gets around, they whisper in the shadows about me my name is folk law around these parts.

Time is a great healer they say, I’m not healed,  I don’t think that I ever will be. Not until these negative voices leave me. Why did I do it? What were you thinking ?  The police questioned me for hours. As I stood on the stand in court charged with murder and arson the jury looked at me closely debating  -am I am murderer? Or just a girl disturbed.

I had  a father, mother  and 2 brothers I was the eldest of 3. 

Very rarely did anyone stop to think, is she OK? Does she feel in the right state of mind today? Has she heard those voices again today? 

Each year these voices would plague me.

Talking to me , tell me to do things, make me believe that people were after me. The negative thoughts were always on replay in my mind; before the fire, before my outburst.

How could they miss the signs that my mental state was slowing on a steady road to decline. I never did drugs if that’s what you’re thinking, I never drunk alcohol if that’s what you’re thinking.  I left that to my father and constantly depressed mother. 

One hot summers day, I was out in the yard sitting under the large oak tree, the voices started talking to me; I watched my father in the yard sweating and grunting chopping up wood. As his swigged his beer and looked over at me

Ugly voices told me, ” get him before he gets you” ” get him before he puts his grubby hands on you again”.  Negative thoughts ran through my  mind as I watched him closely with a smirk on my face. He  yelled up at the open window to my mother ” get your ass out of bed you good for nothing women.”Mama was always sad, always needed to lay down I couldn’t understand at the time I was only 16. 

Going back over the events of that day , the day I burned down that house with my family inside I rock, back and forth my arms wrapped around myself. The nurse walks past, every 15 minutes.

‘‘How are you today” they say to me every day, ” I’m fine” and I rock, I sway. I count down another day… how many until my release day? Criminally insane they labelled me I guess I will never get to see my release day.

Tomorrow is another day, I rock, sway and I prey for all these negative thoughts to go away just for one day.  Day in day out there is no pause button this is my reality every day as the

Seasons pass me, spring, summer, autumn and winter. Years pass me but these negative thoughts never seem to leave me.

**My gosh! This challenge was tough I really did not know which way to go with this one thanks MiracleGirl for another writing work out !**

Writing Prompt: A Tiny Story- Crime Thrill & Suspense! #amwriting

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TO GET YOU IN THE MOOD FOR THE CHALLENGE THAT DIDI AND I ARE DOING.. REBLOG OF MY FAV CHALLENGES!

Gabriel clenched his teeth feeling the porcelain slide. He took a deep breath, relaxed his jaw. “You have two choices,” he said, “you can leave on your feet or on a gurney…” (Continue to write about who Gabriel is and who he is talking to.)Female-Private-Investigators-Eliza-0614333632_1

Gabriel looks Sanchez in the eye he waits for his response. He is losing his patience with this no good snitch. Gabriel pulls back the trigger on his gun and steps forward, pushing his face in front of Sanchez. The two men square up. At six-foot-two, Gabriel towers over Sanchez’s five-foot-ten height.

“I’ll say it one more time for you Sanchez, just in case you never heard me correct.”

“Who the f*ck ratted out on me? If it wasn’t you then who?”

Placing the gun to the right- hand side of Sanchez’s temple, he continues.

“You can leave on your feet, or on a gurney Sanchez. Now who the f*ck—“

“All right, all right, like I said it wasn’t me Gabriel, you know I’d never do that”

“Keep talking Sanchez.”

“I was over at the bar yesterday, I heard whispers that Don wants to settle an old score with you.”

“What bar?”

“The Nag’s Head— Over in Camden Town.”

“So you’re saying Don O’Conner ratted me out to the poe-poe, as he has an old score to settle—right?”

“Right, it could have been him.”

Gabriel lowers his gun and takes a step back from Sanchez. He looks him up and down. A fully-grown man tied up to a wooden post in the centre of a south London warehouse. He can’t help but laugh at the sight of Sanchez in nothing but his underpants. He circles him, like a lion about to pounce. Racking his brain over what score Don would want to settle. Then again, Gabriel North has a reputation as one of the most feared men in London, he has made plenty enemies.  He hails originally from Birmingham in the midlands, but moved south after he realised the streets of London really can be paved with gold— the black market is booming down south in London.

 “Now why would Don want to rat me out to the police Sanchez?

“He got wind of the deal you made with Joe, from what I heard Don wanted to get in there first— take over that area of London to distribute his goods to.”

Gabriel pauses to take in what Sanchez has said. He has a point, the deal he made with Joe in reality is an invasion on Don’s patch.

 “You better not be lying to me Sanchez?”

Gabriel, pokes Sanchez in the chest  with his gun to punctuate his question.

“No sir, that’s what I heard”

“All right, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. I want you to head over to the Nag’s Head and find out what else Don’s up to.”

“You want me to inform on him?”

“Yes, and you better be worth the time I’m giving you to do it—I want answers and fast”

Gabriel nods to his henchmen in corner of the dark warehouse, as a signal to un-tie Sanchez. At least he has a starting point. He now knows who ratted him out to the poe-poe.

His next move is to find out exactly what it will take  for Don O’Connor to retract his statement to the police. Be it money, a threat to him and his family or worse death, Gabriel doesn’t care. Don will be the next visitor to his warehouse, as soon as Sanchez informs him of exactly what Don is up to.

 

To be continued! I actually have to stop writing ( sigh)  the phone rang-I have visitors on the way to see us today. So I guess I better start the housework and change out of my pyjamas. I’ll be back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

MiracleChallenge Week 4: #1 – Dark Side

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TO GET YOU IN THE MOOD FOR MINE AND DID’S CHALLENGE RE-BLOGGING SOME OF MY OLD FAV WRITING PROMPTS.

                                  #MiracleChallenge writing prompt for this week! 

                                  Write a short story using the below sentence prompt

”Everyone has a dark side which he never shows to anybody”: short story

Everyone has a dark side so they say, we met some years back, it was the spring of 2009 back in my  first year of college.  I thought meeting him would be the start of something new, just like spring when flowers bloom. We got to know each other slowly,  he was  like a breath of fresh air at first just want I needed, dinner, movies, concerts we had a great time. By the  summer of 2009 I was convinced it was love! By October as the season turned  to autumn so did he, he turned, his dark side came out no more Mr Nice Guy.

It was just little things at first I noticed were weird about him, his fascination with death and dying, being immortal which he somehow thought he was. ” What a joker” I’d say to him ” you’re weird mate, no one is immortal, no one lives forever.”  

He’d  always want to go to the cemetery just ” for a walk” he’d say, who the hell goes to the cemetery ” just for a walk” ?  Ropes,  chains and duck tape started to appear around his home, when I’d go over on a weekend and ask him what they were for, he’d laugh it off and say he was just doing some DIY around the house. I thought nothing of it, bought the story after all he’s a man they do DIY all the time don’t they…  Is that normal ropes, duck tape, chains and all sorts? I wouldn’t  have  minded at all  if it was some kind of kinky sex game he wanted to try out with the ropes and tape, hey, I read 50 Shades of Grey- Mr Grey is H.O.T, he could tie me up anytime if that was is thang.  I’d tease him, ask him when he was ganna  tie me up and make love to me? He’d just look at me with a sinister look in his eye and a smirk on his face- not  a look that said he’d tie me up and show me a good time. Still, I brushed it off as nothing, he was perfect we were in love … remember.

 As October progressed Halloween rolled around  we were at a friend’s party we dressed up as vampires with matching teeth and fake blood. I must admit he looked pretty hot, think of Eric from True Blood, my spine tingles at the thought of how good he looked, slick hair, pale skinned, dark eyes, black suit and tie,  sinister. Me I went all out with my stockings and suspenders, 4 inch heals  and corset  under a cape fake bite marks all up my thighs  I made a very sexy vampire, we were the centre of attention when it came to costumes.

Something strange happened, at midnight we went outside for some fresh air  and a smoke, as I lit my cigarette   he looked up at the sky and said in low tones ” it’s a full moon” he let out some kind of growl too.  I said to myself this guy he has a dark side. My mind went back to the ropes, chains and duck tape, now he was growling  at the fucking moon? What was this??

He grabbed me, bit me  hard on my  left breast, hard enough to draw blood I screamed out loud ” what the hell are you doing you werido?”   I pushed him off and took a step back. The night air was so cold I could see his breath in the air and the heavy rise and fall of his chest.  He looked me dead in the eye and said

” The freaks come out at night” he laughed as he licked my blood from his lips. I looked down at my breast and the mark that remained from his bite.

That’s when I said to myself this guy’s weird everyone has a dark side, (which) he doesn’t show to anyone.

https://miraclegirlblog.wordpress.com/2016/07/05/miraclechallenge-week-4-dated-5th-july-2016/