Mystery Novel: Deadline (THE FIRST THREE CHAPTERS)

100%Bitch

Member
Joined
Nov 24, 2003
Messages
1,201
Hi everyone,
Incase anyone is still interested in my writing, here is the first three chapters of my current work: Deadline.
Enjoy!
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Chapter 1

Nadine followed her husband, George, to a large hotel in Flagstone.
The building loomed over the smaller buildings, making them look tiny in comparison.
She kept out of sight, biting her lip as her nerves ate at her. George lingered outside the grand building, repeatedly looking at his wrist watch.
He tugged nervously at his stripey blue and white shirt. Pacing back and forth once more, he finally buried his hands deep into his black trouser pockets, grimacing.
A woman walked up to him. It was no one she knew. She was wearing a long seqeuin red dress, red high heeled shoes, with a white jacket that just about covered her back. The woman smiled at him, greeting him with a passionate kiss.
Nadine gritted her teeth,watching as her husband ran his fingers through the woman's long blonde wavy hair.
"I knew it," she thought bitterly. "He is having an affair. Who the hell does he think he is?"
Her hands clenched tightly into fists, bitterly considering walking up to them and slap them both.
Before she could make a decision, George and the woman in red disappeared through the hotel entrance.
Standing silently for what seemed an eternal five minutes, she turns her back on the Ominous building.
Tears threatened to blur her vision as she walked down the frosty pavements of the Flagstone town in the Old Empire of Splice.
She clutched her leather jacket, trying to fight back some of the icy coole air. Her fingers stung from the cold; she wished that she had remembered to pack her gloves before following her husband for almost an hour.
The street was unusally empty; she assumed that a lot of people stayed home to avoid the cold. Now, she wished that she had chosen to do the same. Though, if she had stayed at home in the one bedroomed flat, she would not have seen her husband having an affair.
She felt sick, trying not to think about what her husband was doing with the woman in red.
"I shall not stand for it," she told herself firmly. "Now I know their dirty secret, she is welcome to him."
As she arrived home, she dug her hand deep into her pocket and pulled out her front door keys.
The door opened with an unwelcoming creak. She stepped inside slowly and closed the black painted door behind her. She was greeted by the silence. She walked down the hall, listening to her soft footsteps. She sighed reluctantly before reminding herself of her cheating husband. As much as she loved him, cheating was the only thing that she could not forgive.
She opened a white door, situated next door to the lounge. She glanced around with a frown. The door opened to their bedroom. Swallowing hard, she got down on her knees feeling the soft lilac carpet beneath her. She thrust her hands beneath the double bed and dragged out a suitcase. She grunted, dislodging it from the mattress. Solemnly, she climbed back onto her feet and placed the luggage on to the bed. She blinked, then raised her hands idly to the wardrobe door knobs.
Her clothes were hanging tidely on the right hand side of the large pine wardrobe. A tear rolled down her cheek, as she began to unhook her clothes and place them neatly into her case.
She grabbed her handbag that sat on the dresser beside the bed. It was fairly big, so she had enough room for all her make up.
Zipping up the bags, she took a final look around their room. Returning to collect more of her belongings was something she was not in the mood for. She smiled sadly, glancing proudly at George's manuscript sitting neatly on his bedside cabinet.
She rummaged through his draws and pulled out a sheet of blank paper.
A pen was sitting on top of the pile of paper. She held it gentley and began to write.
A tear rolled down her cheek, dripping on to the paper.
"Dearest George,
I know about your affair with the blonde woman. I saw how you kissed her; the way you used to kiss me. I am sorry that I am not enough for you anymore. I am angry at your betrayal. Worse, I am angry at myself for thinking that you wouldn't betray me. Be assured, this will not happen again.
Yours no more,
Nadine.
You are free."
Nadine pulled a pin out from her sewing kit she found in her husband's draw, then pinned the letter to a wall beside the front door. She took a deep breath in, then opened the front door, closing it behind her. She stood mute for a long moment, silently vowing to somehow repay him for his betrayal.
The morning arrived with the usual bitter cold air.
Warren's phone began to ring. "Hello?" he yawned.
He sighed, it was his boss calling.
"George Groundsman didn't turn up for court? Are you sure?"
He rolled his eyes, his boss wasn't amused.
"No sir. I am not second guessing you. I will go and pick him up right now."
He hung up the phone and rubbed his eyes. He would have to buy some breakfast on the way over to see George, again. It was becoming an unhealthy habit.
He grabbed his coat, for once being thankful that he always got dressed before breakfast.
He slipped on his black shoes, then fastened his buttons of his brown trench coat.
With a sigh of reluctance, he grabbed his brown texas immatation hat from the coat hanger.
He grabbed his keys and walked out of the front door, slamming it behind him.
He stepped out of the house, gritting his teeth from the cold.
He stepped towards his silver car, and unlocked the doors.
He climbed in, shivering as he pulled his sleeves over his hands.
Warren turned on the heating and waited to warm up.
A few minutes later, he switched on the egnition and began to drive towards Flagstone.
The Bounty Hunter stepped out of his car. He frowned, shuddering as he approached the front door.
He raised his fist to knock on the solid door. The front door creaked open, revealing the dark appartment.
He flicked a light switch, hoping for some light. The halls remained in darkness.
"Hello? Mr Groundsman? You've missed your court appearance. I have to take you straight to the station."
Warren walked through the halls and entered the lounge. He could see a shadow of someone laying on the floor.
He took a step closer, feeling a wave of dread wash over him.
"Dear spirits, watch over this mans soul." he preyed.
Swallowing hard, he pulled his phone from his pocket and called the police.
He clutched the phone tightly, staring into the dead eyes of George Groundsman.
He layed on the thick moave carpet, beside a broken flower pot. It had some visible blood on the surface. He swallowed hard. This man had been murdered.
Whilst he waited for the police to arrive, he slowly began to look around. There was no sign of a break in when he approached the house. It would be a good guess that the killer was someone he knew.
He frowned, wondering where the wife was. Feeling a little uneasy, he glanced down at the body again. He wandered back over to the entrance, noticing the bedroom door was open.
"Hello?" he called. His thoughts strayed as he began to worry for Mrs Groundsman. Was she ok?
The bedroom appeared untouched. He frowned, then stopped as he gazed down at the floor beside the bed. A sheet of paper had fell between the bed and the cabinet. Warren tilted his head, reading a sentence on the page; below the last sentences he could see someone had typed "The end".
He blinked, smirking a little. There had been a couple of rumours among the hunters that George was writing a manuscript to a novel. He looked around again, unable to find the rest of the pages.
Maybe he already sent it off to be published? He mused. Beside the bedside cabinet, was a calandar with an appointment written down. He took out his mobile and copied down the details.
"Publish Proudly with PP Self Publishing. Talk to publisher about MS."
Beneath that, was a number to contact them on. Warren copied the number into his mobile and then turned back to face the front door. He blinked, noticing a letter on the wall.
It was from George's wife. He frowned, shaking his head with disgust. Some men just don't know what they have until they screw it up.
Finally, the police arrived along with the coroner.
"Warren Rage?"
Warren nodded. "You are?"
The detective flashed him her badge. "I'm Sarah Rox. Homicide Detective. You can call me Detective though."
Warren nodded mutely.
"What happened here, Warren?"
Warren frowned. "I am a bounty hunter. George here has missed his trail yesterday. I came to pick him up. The door was open. I looked inside and found him laying in the lounge with a flower pot beside his head. He has a wife, though I am not sure where she is. There is a letter from her on the wall behind you."
Sarah began to take some notes, tagging the letter as evidence.
She walked into the lounge, taking a breif glance at the victim. "The man was killed with a flower pot?" she raised an eye brow. Warren shrugged his shoulders. "It looks that way."
The woman groaned, "Great. A killer who thinks he is a smart ass."
Warren frowned, "Not necissarily.. Maybe it was a spur of a moment. Maybe the killer just grabbed the pot and hit the man over the head?"
Sarah glared at him. "I am not bothered with your theories. Your bounty is dead. Go back and tell your boss, then move on. I have a murder to solve."
Warren sighed, thinking of all the evidence he saw. Reluctantly he began to leave.
"Find the wife. I am liking her a lot for this murder."
Warren turned around to object, sweeping his hat off his bald head.
"I don't think she killed him."
Sarah laughed coldly. "Well, I do!"
Frowning, Warren left the flat.

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Chapter 2
Stepping outside, Warren pulled out his mobile phone with a frown.
He swallowed hard, then began to dial the number to call his boss. He will not be in the best of moods. "Hello, Sir? We have a problem."
There was a tense moment of silence.
"I can't bring Mr Groundsman into court."
His boss sighed, "Why not?"
Warren cringed, here comes the big news.
"George Groundsman has been murdered. The police are at his place now."
"Are you sure he is dead?"
Warren sighed, "Yes sir. I am the one that found the body."
There was a moment of silence. "All right," his boss had said.
"Take a few days off, then come back to work when you've recovered from this shock."
Warren nodded, "Thank you, sir."
The boss hung up on him. Warren closed his eyes, then began to walk to his car.
As he climbed in, he waited for a few minutes, warming by the car heating.
After feeling warmer, Warren switchen on the ignition, took off the handbrake and then began to drive home. The roads were icy, making it difficult to drive. Frowning, he reluctantly drove home stuck in second gear, slightly faster than mobility scooter.
After a very slow drive home, he finally arrived at his bungalow.
He let himself in and switched on the kettle in the kitchen. He grunted, feeling slightly grateful that he had not eaten breakfast before finding the victim's body.
He washed his hands, then dug some bread out from the cupboard. The door opened stiffly, before clicking it closed again.
He slipped the oat bread slices into a toaster and waited.
He reached beside him, grabbing the margerine from the fridge. He sighed. He toyed with the idea of adding cheese. After a moment though, he closed the door and returned to the toaster.
The toast was all ready waiting and were quickly becoming cold.
He spread the butter onto his slices then went to the lounge. Though less than half the morning had passed, the day was becoming cooler as time dragged on. He leaned in towards his fire place, poking the wood with the fire poker. Then, grimacing, he shivered. He took a match from the shelf above the fire place, then struck the stick against its box. He watched vividly as a flame leapt from the end.
Carefully, he placed the lit match stick into the fire place and waited. He frowned, the fire was not big enough to light the fire place. Using another match, he grabbed his old newspaper sport page, then lit it with another match. The flames began to grow, dancing on the end of the newspaper.
Once again, he placed the flames in the fire place and watched as the fire began to grow.
Soon, there was enough fire to warm his room. The fire gate guard framed the fire, avoiding getting burnt. He wasn't stupid though, he mused to himself. Even he knows not to leave the fire unattended.
With a smile, he watched as the fire began to die out. He reached for his drink, then sat in front of the desktop computer. He huffed. Eventually, he will get a laptop. Desktops were taking up too much room. He thought about the manuscript, sighing again. It was a shame that he could only find the last page. He scratched his head thoughtfully. Would it be so hard to write a novel?
He sat staring at the blank screen. "Apparently," he muttered to himself. "It's harder than it looks." Warren leaned back in his chair, staring at the blank white screen. His eyes transfixed on the blinking cursor. "Maybe I will give it a try after George's killer has been caught."
He grabbed a sheet of paper, then wrote a memo to himself. "Tomorrow, offer the detective some help. If refused, then will just have to investigate this case myself."
The time began to get later in the day. The sky began to darken, and his stomach began to growl.
Warren reached into the fridge, pulling out a chocolate bar.
The fire had now completely died out, and was no closer to writing a novel.
Feeling like a spare part, he opened his bedroom door and stared at his book shelves.
He smiled, pulling a crime novel off the old cracked shelf. He continued to walk into the bedroom, then sat in his bed. A small lamp beside him glowed softly, shining just enough light to read the black print in the ten year old book. It was his favourite, and had been reading it for ten years.
As he began to read, his eyes began to drift close. The night had sneaked up on him.
Tired and eager to sleep, Warren placed his book beside him and rested his head on his pillow.
As soon as the soft surface greeted his head, he drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, Warren's phone began to ring. The sun had just started to rise over the horizon.
"Hello," he groaned. A panicked voice greeted him.
"Warren? This is Nadine. George's wife. I am down at the police station; they have arrested me for murder."
Warren groaned, Sarah didn't take her time.
"All right," he yawned. "I will be right over. I will see if there is anything I can do."
"Thank you," Nadine sobbed. "He was a cheating bastard, but I didn't kill him. I swear I didn't!"
Warren sighed, "All right Nadine. I am on my way."
He hung up the phone, then once again got dressed and ready to leave with no time for breakfast.
As he arrived at the police station, he stood tensely as he waited at the front desk.
"I would like to see Nadine please. I have been asked to come see her."
"What's her crime?" the receptionist asked boredly.
Warren sighed, "I am not sure she commited a crime. She has been accused of killing her husband. Now, let me see her."
The woman shook her head. "I am not allowed to allow you to see the suspects."
Warren groaned, "Then let me speak to the officer in charge of the murder investigation."
The woman rolled her green eyes as she twirled her short brown hair.
"Sarah, there is a man demanding to see you. He wants to see your suspect, Nadine Groundsman."
There was a moment of silence. The receptionist hung up the phone and glanced at the bounty hunter warily. "She will be right with you," she told him firmly.
Warren stepped away from the desk, and waited for Sarah to arrive.
A few minutes past, waiting in the awkward silence before Sarah finally stormed through the office door. "You again? Why have I been interupted to see you?"
Warren sighed, "Nadine called me. She said that you lot have arrested her for murder. I am not sure that she killed him. So. I would like to talk to her, as she has asked to see me."
The woman glared at him, hate filled her brown eyes. She remained silent.
"That isn't going to be a problem, is it? Now, lead me to her cell."
Grumbling to herself, she opened the door. "I suppose I have no choice. Maybe we might finally get some answers from her."
They walked down a long cold corridor. The halls smelt of fresh paint, and the walls beside them was teal blue. At the far end of the hall, Sarah Rox unlocked a large metal door.
Nadine jumped from her bench, throwing herself at the bounty hunter.
"Thank you for coming. I never thought I would be so pleased to see you again."
Warren nodded. "George missed his court trial. I had to pick him up, which was when I discovered his body in the lounge. I am sorry for your loss. Now, tell me what happened. I saw the note when I arrived at your house, but I would like the whole story."
Nadine nodded and had begun to tell her story.
"After I pinned the letter to the wall, I got a taxi to my sister's place," she finished.
"Maybe she was his publisher? I saw the last page on the floor beside the bed."
Nadine shook her head, "Not the way they kissed. Besides, his publisher is Carl."
Warren frowned, "Was the woman the editor?"
Nadine thought back a tearful sob. "No. He edits his own work. You'd see the corrections when you look through the pages."
Warren cleared his throat, "We only found the last page."
Nadine gasped, "Then someone has stolen it."
Warren's brow creased, "What's the name of the publishing company?"
"PPSP, it stands for Publish Proudly with Self Publishing. They say that they are very good at their job. They better do him proud with the price they have got from him."
Warren sighed. It could be a vanity publisher, he thought silently.
He turned to Sarah, who was looking just as impatient.
"Have you spoke to the publisher?"
The woman shook her head. Sighing again, he got out his mobile phone and searched for the number that he had copied from the calandar at the crime scene.
The phone began to ring, and the bounty hunter waited in silence.
After a couple of rings, the phone finally stopped ringing.
"Hello?" Warren greeted, "I would like to speak to Carl please."
"This is Carl," a man replied.
Warren smiled, "Carl, I need to speak to you about a manuscript. Can we meet?"
Carl agreed. "Come to my office in an hour. We can talk then."
Warren looked at Sarah, grinning. "I shall be there."
The bounty hunter hung up the phone and turned to the police officer in front of him.
"Sarah, we have an hour to get to the publishing company. Would you like some help?"
Sarah glared at him for a moment. "I shall talk to him myself. You have done enough all ready, now let me do my job, or I will have you arrested for interfereing."
Warren rolled his eyes. "There is no need to threaten me, such tactics don't work with me.
If you won't find the real killer, then I will."

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Chapter 3
Warren gave Nadine a breif hug before leaving the building.
He looked down at the mobile phone, reading the address of the publishing company.
He smiled, it wasn't far from where he was staying.
He climbed into his silver car, then began to drive away.
As he arrived, Sarah too, had pulled into the car park.
"What are you doing here, Mr Rage?"
Warren shrugged his shoulders. "I am here to find the real killer. What are you planning to do?"
Sarah sighed. "All right. Follow me, but don't say a word. You're only observing."
Warren grinned and followed the officer into the building, pressing his tongue into his right cheek.
"I wont say a word, yet." he smiled.
Sarah rolled her eyes. It was going to be a long day.
They looked up at the large building.
The grey cobbled stone wall looked grainy and old.
It loomed above them, towering over the smaller buildings.
"What floor is it on?" Sarah asked, slightly anxious.
"Right at the very top," Warren murmered.
They glanced at each other with pale faces.
"You are kidding me," she scorned.
Warren shook his head as he approached the building, holding the door open for her.
Her face paler than it was, she stepped through the doors.
"Thank you," she muttered.
Warren payed no attention to the guards that stood in the corners of the lobby.
Sarah, though, flashed her police badge as she passed them.
The elevator door opened noisily, waiting to take them up to the twenty seventh floor.
"Twenty seven floors? Are you sure he is at the very top?"
Warren nodded, mute for a moment. "Yes, I am sure. I copied the address down from the calandar."
Sarah frowned, "What calandar?"
The bounty hunter rolled his eyes. "I copied the address from the calandar whilst I was waiting for you to arrive, back at the crime scene."
Sarah gasped, looking outraged and horrified. Her eyes went wide, as her jaw dropped for a moment.
"You wasn't suppose to touch anything. It'd compromise the evidence, you fool!"
Warren Rage gritted his teeth as his eyes narrowed, glaring at her.
"Don't get your suspenders in a twist. I didn't touch anything, I am not stupid. It was hanging on the wall. I used my mobile to copy it."
Sarah cringed, biting her lip. "Oh," she muttered. "Sorry. I - "
Warren shook his head angrily. "You're sorry? You honestly think that I would go around touching everything in a crime scene?"
He bit back his words, muttering bitterly. "Yet, you call me the fool."
The elevator lift halted to a stop as they finally reached the top floor.
Warren peered through the window beside the doors. "Wow. We are really really high up," he mumbled.
Sarah shook her head, "Thanks for the reminder," she groaned.
Opposite the lift doors was another door. It was closed, with a sign on the door. "Carl Laminate" was printed with gold lettering on the plain black sign across the door.
"Carl. I would like to talk to you about George Groundsman's manuscript. Have you seen it? We think the manuscript may have been stolen," Sarah chided.
Carl smiled, "Of course I have seen it. I am his publisher. Stolen? Are you sure?"
The woman nodded, as she watched the publisher frown.
"Well then, it's a good thing that George sent me a copy. He pays us a lot of money to publish his work, so we make sure that he himself keeps the origional and sends us the copy. That way, if the work gets lost or ruined, we can be sent another copy right away."
Warren raises an eye brow, "You have a copy of the work? When did he finish the editing?"
Carl cleared his throat. "I don't know. Why don't you ask him?"
Sarah rolled her eyes, "We can't. He's dead."
"He's dead? That's terrible!" he gasped.
The man sat back in his large black leather chair.
"Do you know anyone who would want to kill him?" Sarah asked.
The man shrugged, "Maybe his wife did it? He was having an affair after all."
Sarah nodded, "That much is true."
The publisher smiled, "He is a bit of a ladies man, really. Well, he was until his wife caught him at it."
He paused for a moment. "What about the woman he was having the affair with? Oh, what's her name? Oh- that's right. I remember.
Her name was cynthia. Cynthia Grace. Lovely woman, pretty little thing she is."
Sarah wrote the name in a small black book. "You know where she lives?"
The man shook his head. "No. But there have been certain rumours that he has been seen going to the Flagstone hotel. Maybe they can tell you, I mean, they have some record don't they, so they know who to bill, and where to send the bills to?"
Sarah smiled, "Flagstone hotel? All right, I will check it out. Thank you Carl, for your time."
The man rose from his seat and followed them to the door with a small smile on his face.
"If any of you want to go into publishing, please, give me a call."
Warren chuckled, "He gives his sales pitch after hearing his client is dead. Doesn't that seem odd to you?"
Sarah shook her head. "No. Not odd at all, though it was insensitive. Being a jerk isn't against the law though."
Warren sighed, she was right.
They walked into the elevator and went back down towards the ground floor.
They stepped outside onto the cobbled stone pavement. Warren looked up at the building as the company loomed above them.
"I don't trust him," Warren muttered.
Sarahh rolled her eyes, "I don't either but it doesn't mean he is guilty of any crime, or even murder."
Warren grunted, frowning at her. She sighed, vaguarly noticing his crows feet at the corner of his eyes.
"I will do a background check on him when we get back to the station," she said tiredly.
"That's all I ask of you," he replied.
Sarah chuckled to herself, "You aren't suppose to ask me to do anything. I am sure she is guilty, I just want to convince you that I know what I am doing."
Warren shrugged, "I'm sure you know what you're doing most of the time."
Sarah shook her head, there was no convincing this man.
"I have been doing this for ten years, I know what I am doing."
The bounty hunter grimanced, "You've been accusing innocent people of murder for ten years or you have been a detective for ten years?"
"I have been a detective for ten years, and I put away the people that evidence says who is guilty."
Warren sniggered, "So what evidence do you have against Nadine, other than she is his wife?"
The woman smiled smugly, "The letter pinned to the wall. She also has motive."
Warren shook his head. "What about Carl? He has motive too. Greed. He also knows about the husband cheating, and he has a copy of George's manuscript. According to the wife, he hadn't finished editing that yet. What if the manuscript is the origional? We only found the last page, where is the rest of it?"
Sarah sighed, "Maybe it is the origional. Maybe George had finished editing the novel and sent it to be published, and simply dropped the last page?"
Warren fell silent. She had a good point.
"How did he send it? The post takes a few days to arrive. He would have had to send it before he was killed but the wife says it was there the night she left after finding her husband with another woman."
Sarah smiled, "Then, lets go and find this woman he has been seeing. He might have mentioned his manuscript to her."
There was only one problem, a large problem. "How are we going to find this blonde woman? We don't even know her name."
"Easy, we go to the hotel. They might have paid by credit card."
Warren nodded, "That’s a good idea, they might have been going to the same hotel regulary."
"Lets go to Flagstone Hotel then. Maybe she has motive too. She might have killed her lover to stop him from leaving her to stay with his wife."
Warren thought in silence for a moment. The manuscript being sent to the publisher was still questionable.
 

squirt

Administrator
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May 5, 2004
Messages
827,469
this is really good! you know how I can tell? cuz I couldn't stop reading! lol :2thumbsup:
:bravo: :bow:
 

100%Bitch

Member
Joined
Nov 24, 2003
Messages
1,201
Thanks Squirt!
I am all ready working on my 6th chapter. :p
Would you like to read the 4th chapter?
 

100%Bitch

Member
Joined
Nov 24, 2003
Messages
1,201
Chapter 4

They arrived at the hotel in silence.
"I suggest that you let me do the talking," Sarah muttered.
Warren frowned, tugging at his black shirt.
"Why do you always have all the fun, maybe I have a question to ask? It might be a question that busts this case wide open."
Sarah grunted, "I doubt it, things are simple if you pay enough attention to the details."
Warren sighed with some reluctance. "Things aren't always as simple as they seem. Underneath the deed and the motive, are the stories of why and how it got to that situation in the first place."
She glanced impatiently at her watch. "There is always a story. Fortunately, I am not interested in the story of how they decided to become a criminal. All I am interested in is the evidence. All I need to know is who done it, and what they did it with. Motive is just a silly excuse for their actions. I don’t care why they committed the crime- only that they did."
The bounty hunter blinked, stunned into silence for a moment.
"You really aren't curious about how a human being kills and still sleep at night?"
The woman shook her head, "Killers are not human. Humans do not kill each other because they got pissed off or for territorial rights. Animals do."
"You're a sad, lonely and a cold person. I'd hate to think what someone put you through."
She blinked, taken back momentarily. “What someone put me through? I wasn’t put through anything.”
The bounty hunter shrugged, “If you say so.”
Sarah glared at him, then turned her back towards the hotel. The front entrance began to open. Warren looked up at the building. The hotel loomed over them, with a sign lit up three floors above them.
“Flagstone Hotel” lit the bricks with a luminous blue glow.
“When you feel like talking about it, you know where I am,” Warren chided.
“I wasn’t put through anything, Warren. I was not put through anything hurtful or tragic. It’s simply the way I am. I am not going to change my character traits just to please you. Now, let’s go and find this mysterious woman he has been seeing.”
Sighing, Warren reluctantly agreed.
They stepped through the building, glancing hesitantly at the reception desk.
“Right, lets get this over and done with. They might have her name and address on their computer.”
“All right. So lets go and ask then. Dont ask for the woman, ask for the man- then mention he was seeing someone then ask who. Just in case the receptionist is the woman seeing the man. It might frighten her off before we get any answers.”
“Do tell me how to do my job, Warren. I will ask what I please, and I will get answers- even if it means taking the whole hotel guests to the station one by one and interrigate them in the cells.”
Warrens eyes opened wide, “All right, I was just trying to be helpful.”
“Well, if you want to be helpful, you can observe in silence,” Sarah snapped.
Warren sighed, rolling his eyes. “Yes, Miss,” he taunted. He never liked taking orders from others, especially when it meant having to keep quiet.
The bounty hunter looked at his watch and yawned. It was getting late into the afternoon.
“Am I boring you?” Sarah asked defiantly.
Warren shook his head, “No. I just haven’t been sleeping very well since I saw George laying on the floor, dead. If you have all ready forgotten, I was the one to find him in his apparentment.”
Sarah Rox shook her head slowly, cringing. “I haven’t forgotten. After this day is over, have a bath to relax and try to get some sleep. I am sure we will find the killer soon enough, or at least prove that Nadine is the killer.”
Warren frowned, “I keep telling you that she is not the killer. It would be too obvious. She isn’t that stupid. I know her better than that.”
As they approached the desk, a blonde woman smiled at them politely.
“Welcome to the Flagstone Hotel. How may I help you?”
Sarah showed the woman her badge. “Hello. I believe George Groundsman has been coming here recently. I would like to know his address, and anyone he may have been seeing.”
The woman blinked, “I am afriad I cant do that. The information here is very sensitive.”
Sarah sighed, “I doubt his feeling will get hurt. He is dead, so I will ask you again. Please may I have the number to the room he was staying at two nights ago, and then I would like to see anyone who has seen him at this hotel whilst he was visiting.”
“Georgy’s dead?” She gasped, “How? When did this happen?”
Warren cleared his throat, nudging the woman forwards.
“I take it you are the woman he was having the affair with,” Sarah said firmly.
The woman nodded.
Warren gave Sarah a small smile of satisfaction.
“Then, we have some questions for you,” he replied smugly.
The grieving woman glared at him, sensing that he wasn’t a police offical.
“I am not answering any of your questions. You’ve no authority to treat me in this manner!”
Warren grinned, “Oh, I am so sorry. When I say that “We” have some questions for you, I meant that “She” has some questions for you. And by the way, “She” does have the authority to question you- and she has the authority to take you to the police station. So, how about some answers? How long have you and George been having the affair?”
The woman glared at him, then turned her attention to Sarah.
The police officer rolled her eyes, “What’s your name?”
The woman sighed, relieved to avoid the interrigation.
“My name is Sophia.”
Sarah nodded, “All right, Sophia. Please answer his question so that we can shut him up for a little while? It would be doing us both a huge favour.”
Sophia groaned, but nodded anyway.
“Me and George have been seeing each other for a year.”
Sarah gave Warren a firm smile, “Now you have your answer, let me do my job,” she gritted.
Warren nodded, guestering Sarah to continue the interrigation.
“Sophia, What happened when you saw him last? Was his behaviour normal or did he seem upset about anything in particular?”
The woman shrugged, biting her lip nervously as she thought back.
“He was a little tense. He suspected that his wife was beginning to suspect of the affair.”
Warren chuckled to himself. “He had no idea that he was being followed?”
The woman blinked, “Followed? Followed by who?”
Sarah sighed, “Sorry about him. George was being followed by his wife. She not only suspected that he was having an affair. She knew it. So, she followed him here and saw you both together.
She told us that she followed him to this hotel the other night, and saw a lady in a red dress greet him with what looked like a passionate kiss.”
Sophia gasped, turning pale. “Nadine knows about the affair? Are- Are you sure about this?”
Warren smiled, “Yes, we are very sure. Whilst he was dipping his dick between your legs, he was suppose to be going to court. I went to pick him up to take him back to prison yesterday morning, and found him dead.”
Sophia wiped an invisible tear from her cheek.
“His wife must’ve been furious and killed him.” she choked. “What if she comes after me next?”
Warren shook his head, “No. She hadn’t killed him. She wrote him a letter telling him that she knows about the affair, and she packed her bags and left him before he returned home.”
Sarah ignored the bounty hunter’s theory.
“Whilst you were seeing him the other night, did he ever mention that he was writing a book?”
Sophia nodded, “Yes. He had been writing it for almost three months. Its a fiction novel based on something that he sees sometimes for inspiration. Like, in chapter eight, he mentions something from an article about a murder that happened six years ago.”
Sarah blinked, this was new.
“What murder?” she asked.
Sophia shrugged her shoulders.
“A woman was killed after writing a best selling book. But the book was never recovered.”
Warren grinned, “Did he mention that his publisher had a copy of the manuscript?”
The woman shook her head, frowning. “He never mentioned that he sent a copy to anyone. Im not sure why he would send it so soon, he hadn’t even finished editing it yet.”
Sarah sighed, “Is it possible that he decided to let the professional editors do the editing?”
The woman shook her head, “No. He hadn’t allowed anyone to read it until it has been polished to perfection. I only know what is in chapter eight because he read it to me. I had to beg him to let me hear some of it.”
Warren turned his back. “Still think that the wife did it?”
The police officier sighed, “I am not sure of anything at the moment.”
Warren laughed, “Isn’t it obvious? It was the publisher. I think that the publisher found out about the manuscript mentioning something that he did so he grabbed the manuscript to destroy it, then killed the writer so that he wouldn’t write another.”
Sarah shook her head, straightening her back.
“Do you have any proof that I dont know about?” she demanded.
The bounty hunter thought for a moment.
“Let’s go, I will explain on the way down to the car.”
They walked out of the building, then stood by the car for a moment in silence.
Sophia frowned, clearly they were onto something. She followed them out to the car and stepped behind a tree to listen. Warren was talking to the police officer excitedly.
“Lets go back to the publisher. We can ask about how many pages he has. We know there was only one page at the crime scene. I will write a page, immating the last page of the manuscript- then leave it for the publisher to find at the crime scene. If he proves to be innocent, then we only have wasted a page of my paper. If I am right after letting slip that he is a page short, he will likely go back to the crime scene to retrieve the final page of the manuscript. That will prove that he killed him.”
Sarah sighed, “All right. We’ll go home for now, whilst you write up a final page for the manuscript. Then, in the morning, we leave it where we found the real page. We shall go to the publisher from there, asking how many pages the manuscript is- then let slip that he is missing a page. Then, we shall go back to the crime scene and wait for the publisher to pick up that piece of paper.”
Warren smiled, “Sounds like a great idea. I will see you in the morning then.”
Sarah sighed, looking defeated. “Goodnight Warren. You better be right about this.”
Grimacing, Sophia stepped out from behind the tree and scowled. The publisher was going to be sent to prison.
“I knew there was something rotten about Carl,” she muttered.
 

100%Bitch

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Thanks Squirt.
I have started writing Chapter 7.
I am all ready looking forward to finishing the novel, though got a long way to go yet.
I have got a lot of veiws for my few chapters. Im a little surprised. lol.
 

squirt

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I told you there was plenty interest! lol :blowkiss:
 

100%Bitch

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Yup. Plenty of people opening the thread but you are the only one replying to it. LOL.
How many veiws is needed for the post of the day? LOL.
 

squirt

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hey there! so sorry ... I had to remove that link from your sig! lol :flowerforyou:
 

100%Bitch

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yeh, I have had enough sigs deleted coz of it. Lol.
That's why I got my book cover as my avatar instead. Then it is just a pic. :p
Can't go wrong there. :)
 

squirt

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I don't think he read them and I don't think he'll be back lol :flowerforyou:
 

100%Bitch

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Heh, oh ok.
I would have thought he'd at least read the chapters- instead of a random thread to say hello. :(
That's just disappointing.
 

100%Bitch

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I would have thought my chapters would at least been read.
You think he clicked on a random thread just to say hello?
Isn't that spamming??
 

squirt

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yes ma'am, his intent was to spam us (the link in his sig)
now you see why we can't allow it lol :blush: :flowerforyou:
 

100%Bitch

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Thanks.
I've almost finished writing the rest of it now.
It'll be about 15,000 words long.
 
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