A photograph from the inspirational bin – 46

What story does it inspire?

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This is a photograph of the Leopoldskron Palace used for exterior shots in the movie “The Sound of Music”.

It was a very bleak day when we decided to go on the Sound of Music bus tour, and, yes, there was singing.

But…

It is a sombre setting and lends a great deal of inspiration to a story.

For instance…

There was a large uninhabited house on the edge of a lake where multiple fatalities occurred in the mid-1800s. The family was cursed from the moment the house was built because a gypsy family who had lived on the land before the building commenced were murdered because they would not leave.

The original owner died when falling from a ladder fetching a book from the top shelf in his library, the wife died when she accidentally slipped and fell on a knife in the kitchen, and the eldest son died when he fell from the roof. No one could explain how he got there.

The daughter left immediately after all of these events which happened in the first week of residence, and moved far away.

Move forward about 170 years and one of the ancestors discovered they are entitled to take ownership of the building that had not been lived in for a long, long time.

But…

It does not look any different from the day the last inhabitants died, and is in perfect condition.

How could this be after 170 years?

And what exactly is going on when the descendants come to live in the house?

Is it paranormal activity or is it just gold old fashioned scare tactics to send them away?

“Jump Now” – A short story

It was 2 am, the ideal time to assemble a team that would be clandestinely boarding a vessel.

Dark and moonless, it was fortuitous rather than planned, and, dressed in black from head to toe, it was hard to see the others in the inky darkness. At least something was on our side.

Up until this point, we’d had nothing but bad luck, though I was more of the opinion we had a traitor in our midst because some of the events could not have any other explanation.

It had caused me to be far more selective in whom I gave details of the mission to.

Each of the four team members had arrived and let themselves into the shed. It was not far from the ocean, and a small pier where there was a landing craft waiting. From there, it would be a half-hour trip out to the ship in question, where, if we got close enough, we would either have to go over the side and swim, or pull alongside, but either way, we’d have to go up a rope.

A lot depended on the crew member we had recruited getting a rope overboard, and given the luck we had so far, if there was a flaw in the plan, that was it.

Aside from the four people sitting in front of me, there were only three others privy to what was about to happen. Now, with recent events, it was hard to imagine that one of them could betray us. That’s why I hadn’t completely told them what they were about to do, just that they needed to be prepared to get wet.

“I’m sure, now we’re here, you can tell us what’s going on.” Robert was the most trusted of my team and my best friend.

“And why all the hush-hush,” Linda added. She had been amused at the secrecy and my explanation.

I was never very good at spinning a story. She knew that but had not questioned why.

“It’s been touch and go for the last week. It’s why we’ve all been on standby, with this last-minute call-out. We’ve been waiting for a particular ship to leave port, and now it has. So, without further ado, let’s get to it. A boat ride, just enough time to gather the courage to the sticking point, and then with any luck we won’t have to go into the water and swim, but a short shimmy up a rope. I hope you’ve all been working out.”

The boat ride was in silence. I’d worked with this group before, and they were not big on talking. Aside from the fact that noise travelled over water, and since we had a specially silenced motor on the boat, there was not going to be any unnecessary conversation.

We could see the ship once we reached the headland, and aside from its running lights, there were lights where I presumed the bridge was, and several in the crew quarters. Closer again, I got the impression it was not moving, or if it was, it was terribly slow. It was hard to tell in the darkness. That same darkness aided our approach.

When we were within several hundred yards, I could see that the ship was not moving, and, in fact, had the anchor out.

That was not expected. Were they waiting for us? Had they discovered the cream member who was working with us? We’d know soon enough if there was no rope in the designated point, not far forward of the stern, a spot where we could maneuver the boat under the hull curvature.

The driver piloted the boat slowly to the designated point and the rope was there. He would stay with the boat and wait. The four of us would go up and collect what we came for.

I watched the three go up the rope before me, waiting for the last to stop at the top and then go over the side onto the deck. It took nearly a minute before I got the signal it was clear to follow.

It had been too easy.

I went up the rope slowly, slower than the others, something else other than the object of the exercise on my mind. Not three days before I had a conversation with my boss, telling him that I’d been doing the job too long and that it was time to retire. Approaching forty wasn’t exactly retirement age, but in this job, lasting that long was almost a miracle. The places I’d been, the sights I’d seen, and the people I’d met. And how many lives I’d used up.

It was a dangerous thing, thinking about anything other than the job when you’re on the job.

I reached the top and pulled myself over the railing and onto the deck. A little off balance it took a moment to stand. By then it was too late.

Two of the three other members of the team were sitting by the superstructure, hands on their heads, two members of the crew were watching them, guns at the ready, and Linda had one pointing at me.

“I can’t imagine how MacIntyre thought he was going to convince Petra to defect. Or how this charade of a rescue attempt was ever going to work.”

I put my hands up. Not entirely unexpected. “It was not the mission objective.”

“What…”

I was surprised that she had made her move so early. If it was my operation, I would wait until we were well into the superstructure, heading to the cabin where Petra would be waiting, and then make the move.

Three seconds, three shots, two guards were taken out, and Linda was incapacitated. She would not be moving or fighting back any time soon. Then Petra came out of the shadows, and I collected Linda’s gun and stood near her, just in case Petra missed the target.

Petra cut the two other’s bindings, and said, “Get to the side and jump now.”

Linda looked up at me. “What now?”

I shrugged. “Time for us to leave.” I gave Petra a nod, and she went over to the side, took one look back at Linda, shook her head, and then jumped.

“You’re just going to leave me here?”

“If it were up to me, I’d shoot you, but MacIntire is getting a little soft in his old age. But yes, I’m leaving you here. Now, I really must go.”

I took a last look at Linda, who realized that if she moved it would only worsen her injury, and jumped, not exactly my preferred way of leaving the ship.

The boat came up alongside me and two hands dragged me on board, at the same time we could hear the sound of the anchor chain being pulled up, and the propellers creating a wash as the ship started moving.

Job done, and not one that pleased me. “Let’s go home,” I told the driver, “it’s past my bedtime.”

—-

The cinema of my dreams – I always wanted to go on a treasure hunt – Episode 42

Here’s the thing…

Every time I close my eyes, I see something different.

I’d like to think the cinema of my dreams is playing a double feature but it’s a bit like a comedy cartoon night on Fox.

But these dreams are nothing to laugh about.

Once again there’s a new installment of an old feature, and we’re back on the treasure hunt.

Life for me returned to something like normal when I was back in the warehouse, surrounded by endless shelves filled with all manner of items.

It was the central repository for all the spare parts that were needed for the factory’s machinery in one section, a large variety of stationery, and office, items in another, and groceries for the cafeteria in another.

My in-tray was filled with requisition form received from the previous day, that hadn’t been processed by Roger, the morning shift clerk who inhabited my desk when I wasn’t there.

As usual, he had managed to idle away most of his shift by doing absolutely nothing, which I guess was acceptable because Roger was one of Alex’s cronies, as were many others scattered about the factory.

One of the managers from another department knocked on the open door, perhaps to wake me before he walked in, something he had told me once before he was used to doing, and after a few seconds came in.

“The afternoon shift doesn’t sleep on the job,” I said. He was one of the good managers, so he knew I was not admonishing him.

He saw the pile of requisitions, a good indication of why his order for stores had not been processed.

“Busy day?”

“It will be.” I shuffled through the pile and pulled out his requisition. Only one item.

“Is it possible I could get it today?”

“Better still. Take a seat, I’ll get it myself.”

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say”

He sat in one of the plastic chairs designed to keep people moving and picked up an old National Geographic. I was fascinated to find there were issues going back as far as the 1920s. I wondered if Benderby knew they were collectors’ items and worth a lot of money.

I headed towards the door. “Make yourself comfortable, I won’t be long.”

The only other time I had seen a building as big as the warehouse was indoor basketball courts. It was a hundred yards across, and half a mile long, and sometimes it was easier to hitch a ride with the forklift driver to get the other end quickly.

The fork life driver had gone missing, so it was a walk. The shelf I was looking for was somewhere near the middle.

Something else about the building, it had remarkably interesting acoustics, and sometimes I could hear conversations between the supervisor and the forklift driver when they were some distance away, and out of sight.

About 100 yards from the shelf, I heard voices. They were indistinguishable, but as I got closer, broken sentences became more understandable. I used one of the cross paths so see if I could locate the source of the voices and found them in the third aisle.

Alex and the man I’d seen earlier at the mall.

They had pulled two seats and a carton of the shelves and were sitting, feet on the carton, smoking cigarettes, right underneath a ‘No Smoking’ sign.

Typical. Not much further along was the ‘Inflammable Goods’ sign, but something like that for Alex would be an invitation to press his luck.

“You sure it was them?”

“Course. I’d recognize that kid you call Smidge anywhere. And his crazy offside, Bloggs or something. What do you think they’re doing out there?”

“Must be something to do with the treasure. That kid’s holding back on us. We’ve been searching the coastline for those two rivers. Nothing but drains now. I got Dad to lean on one of the councilors to get us some old maps of the coastline, and one had five rivers. Talk about trying to find a needle in a haystack.”

“Perhaps we’re trying too hard. One of those old maps showed the Navy Yard, and the cove they’d dredged. One of the maps she showed me has evidence there was a once a river running into that cove, and according to the old biddy in the library, that area was once owned by a chap called Orminson. She also thought his descendants didn’t move too far away from here after they sold the property to the Navy. I’ve got a copy of the map, so we can check if it lines up with some of the other maps we have, and, of course, the treasure map.”

“We should find these descendants. Perhaps they have more information.”

“Already on it.”

“What we also need, but probably won’t be able to get, is the architectural plans of the Naval site, before, during, and after the works.”

“I’ll get Brains onto it. He’ll have some way of getting the documents.”

“Good. Sooner rather later OK.”

“I reckon that Boggs must have some knowledge of this. You want me and the boys to go and rough Boggs up a bit more, see what he knows about this?”

“No. Not a good idea, as much as I would like it to happen, just to wipe the smug look off his face, but the last time the old man came down on me for being, as he calls it, un-subtle, whatever that means. It’s not as if he hasn’t beaten the crap of people for information before. The same goes for Smidge. Just watch and report. That’s all. For the moment.”

“You got anything else you want me to do?”

“Yes. Get some of the boys to follow them. And try not to get seen. Boggs might be a fool, but Smidge isn’t. He’s a lot smarter than I gave him credit for.”

“He’s just a kid, Alex.”

“Well, you keep thinking that, and when he outsmarts you, you know what will happen.”

Alex stood. “And clean up this mess before you go.”

“Strangers We’ve Become” – The final countdown to publishing in 12 Days

A hard slog

…

Surveillance wasn’t easy. Some thought it was a doddle, just sitting around waiting for something to happen, and, in the meantime, filling up on takeaway and endless coffee.

Some thought it boring because in all likelihood little happened over a long time.

Quite often the funding ran out long before a result was available.

David had nothing else to do, so it was his only option, other than finding a way to annoy the new security.

He found premises near the Featherington London residence, then when the place was least populated, planted listening devices in various places, some to be found, others not.

He tracked the limousine, now driven by the head of security to see where it was going promptly every morning, with the mistress of the house.

Located other premises to be watched, a result no doubt of being able to go through documents at the main residence.

Got an accurate guide to how many men were in the security team, where they went and what times they performed basic duties.

And watched Susan as she slept in her room, making him feel almost like a stalker.

But it didn’t take long for several revelations to surface, the first, Susan had a new relative that he had known of before, but only by sight, and second, someone he thought he could trust was not what he appeared to be.

Time to throw the cat among the pigeons.

…

NANOWRIMO November 2023 – Day 24

“Opposites Attract”

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A chat with Fred

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The search for Tim was going to be through a baptism of fire. Our boy had to go through his friends to find him.

And Tims friends were as belligerent as Tim was. And a friend of Tim was an enemy of our boy’s.

But, how hard can it be?

To start the quest, he gets another ride in the corporate jet and gets to work with his new PA, Guinevere. Oh, and did she say she used to work for Tim the Ungrateful?

Water under another bridge.

We touch down in town and there’s no time like the present to visit Fred, the staunchest of Tim’s allies, and the man who would know where he is.

With a mountain to climb, our boy goes into the bar where many a fight had played out badly, the bar that is renowned for the farm hands to let off steam.

Yes, there is a fight.

But for a long time our boy has been hiding a talent his father advised him never to use.

Pity this was the time or place.

And Fred discovers, what he always suspected, they had always been allowed to win.

…

Today’s words: 1,755, for a total of 45,130

The cinema of my dreams – It ended in Sorrento – Episode 66

It’ll never work, Giulietta Moretti

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I knocked on Juliet’s door and before I could speak, she told me to go away. In my book that was an invitation to go in.

I closed the door behind me. She was lying on the bed staring at the ceiling.

“I thought I told you to go away.” She gave me the go-away look.

I sat in the chair beside the bed. The hotel must have thought someone would want to read in peace in their room, otherwise, I didn’t see the point. “Why is it everywhere I go these days, you’re there.”

“We’ve had this discussion.”

“I haven’t got an answer yet? My problem is that I have a suspicious mind, and generally I can see conspiracies before others. You being here has conspiracy written all over it.”

“I was not responsible for crazies like Larry or that Vittoria singling me out to cause others grief.”

“You’re the wrong place wrong time kind of girl? Or has your brother got himself into another jam?”

“No. He’s safe. And I thank you for getting him out of the mess he was in. That was my fault, and I won’t let it happen again.”

“Then how did you get involved in this mess?”

She rolled sideways to look at me. Perhaps she shouldn’t, I could see the tear tracks. She had been crying, though I’m not sure why.

“A phone call. My real name is Giulietta Moretti, and the woman who asked for me by that name sounded like one who had been ringing a great many of them. I just happen to be in a certain Italian town at a certain age, and she said she had something that might interest me. Call me dumb, but after the life I’ve had, something sounded better than nothing.”

“Changing your name no doubt improve your prospects, like an alias. Is this Giulietta Moretti a doctor also?”

“She could be, with a forged certificate, but I wasn’t going to play that card. I was working with dead people, so I didn’t think it mattered. You can’t kill dead people, Evan.”

“Unless they rise from the dead and try to kill you.”

She looked at me strangely.

“Don’t worry. Different lifetime. I like your real name by the way. It has a lovely ring to it.” And I had no idea why I said that. “Perhaps I should stop calling you Juliet. We digress. Continue.”

“I met her in Milan over coffee and she said if I could find the relative documents I might be her missing daughter, and if I was, then I might be an heir to a Count’s estate. She said she had once worked in the residence, and had a relationship with the Count, and the countess didn’t know about it. He was, she said, very discreet.”

“Of course, he was. You can imagine just how discreet he would be. A house full of pretty servant girls, for him it would be a smorgasbord. You went along with the plan?”

“Of course. I found my birth certificate and some old photos of my mother and I, who looked nothing like the woman who called me, so I took them and then asked her what her game was. When she looked at the photos, she said the woman was a friend of hers who worked at the residence, and that she had given me to her to look after, and being the bad mother she was, basically abandoned me. Well, I told her where she got off and left.

“A week later she turns up again, and tells me I am her daughter, and shows me another birth certificate and photos of her, my mother and me at the residence. It’s possible she was telling the truth, so I decided to run with it. She said that the will was going to be ratified, what is not a few days’ time and that I should wait for her call to come and stake my claim.

“The moment I did that, my life went crazy, and then you turn up and people are shooting at me. I was glad to see you again, though.”

“Is that it?”

“Basically.”

“It’s a good story.”

“It’s a true story.”

“It’s a story with elements of truth woven into another story, the story that lives between the lines. I’ll tell you what I told Francesca out there. I live in a world of lies and deceit, and smoke and mirrors. I was taught by the best not to believe anyone or anything. Or trust anyone. If you want to have any chance of seeing me again, you better be prepared to tell me the whole truth, irrespective of what you think I might think. Hell, you’re the most confusing, irritating, aggravating, person I’ve ever known.”

“That far under your skin, eh?” She smiled.

“You’re still on the top of my list. Don’t push it. You’re going to help me sort out this mess tomorrow and then you and I are going to have this out.”

“What if I say no?”

“Do you have a death wish?”

“Maybe I like dancing with the devil.”

Shook my head and stood.

“It’ll never work, Giulietta Moretti. Never.”

‘What Sets Us Apart’ – A beta readers view

There’s something to be said for a story that starts like a James Bond movie, throwing you straight in the deep end, a perfect way of getting to know the main character, David, or is that Alistair?

A retired spy, well not so much a spy as a retired errand boy, David’s rather wry description of his talents, and a woman that most men would give their left arm for, not exactly the ideal couple, but there is a spark in a meeting that may or may not have been a setup.

But as the story progressed, the question I kept asking myself was why he’d bother.

And, page after unrelenting page, you find out.

Susan is exactly the sort of woman to pique his interest. Then, inexplicably, she disappears. That might have been the end to it, but Prendergast, that shadowy enigma, David’s ex-boss who loves playing games with real people, gives him an ultimatum, find her or come back to work.

Nothing like an offer that’s a double-edged sword!

A dragon for a mother, a sister he didn’t know about, Susan’s BFF who is not what she seems or a friend indeed, and Susan’s father who, up till David meets her, couldn’t be less interested, his nemesis proves to be the impossible dream, and he’s always just that one step behind.

When the rollercoaster finally came to a halt, and I could start breathing again, it was an ending that was completely unexpected.

I’ve been told there’s a sequel in the works.

Bring it on!

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The book can be purchased here: http://amzn.to/2Eryfth

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Searching for locations: The Pagoda Forest, near Zhengzhou City, Henan Province, China

The pagoda forest

After another exhausting walk, by now the heat was beginning to take its toll on everyone, we arrived at the pagoda forest.

A little history first:

The pagoda forest is located west of the Shaolin Temple and the foot of a hill. As the largest pagoda forest in China, it covers approximately 20,000 square meters and has about 230 pagodas build from the Tang Dynasty (618-907) to the Qing Dynasty (1644-1911).

Each pagoda is the tomb of an eminent monk from the Shaolin Temple. Graceful and exquisite, they belong to different eras and constructed in different styles. The first pagoda was thought to be built in 791.

It is now a world heritage site.

No, it’s not a forest with trees it’s a collection of over 200 pagodas, each a tribute to a head monk at the temple and it goes back a long time. The tribute can have one, three, five, or a maximum of seven layers. The ashes of the individual are buried under the base of the pagoda.

The size, height, and story of the pagoda indicate its accomplishments, prestige, merits, and virtues. Each pagoda was carved with the exact date of construction and brief inscriptions and has its own style with various shapes such as a polygonal, cylindrical, vase, conical and monolithic.

This is one of the more recently constructed pagodas

There are pagodas for eminent foreign monks also in the forest.

From there we get a ride back on the back of a large electric wagon

to the front entrance courtyard where drinks and ice creams can be bought, and a visit to the all-important happy place.

Then it’s back to the hotel.

The story behind the story: A Case of Working With the Jones Brothers

To write a private detective serial has always been one of the items at the top of my to-do list, though trying to write novels and a serial, as well as a blog, and maintain a social media presence, well, you get the idea.

But I made it happen, from a bunch of episodes I wrote a long, long time ago, used these to start it, and then continue on, then as now, never having much of an idea where it was going to end up, or how long it would take to tell the story.

That, I think is the joy of ad hoc writing, even you, as the author, have as much idea of where it’s going as the reader does.

It’s basically been in the mill since 1990, and although I finished it last year, it looks like the beginning to end will have taken exactly 30 years. Had you asked me 30 years ago if I’d ever get it finished, the answer would be maybe?

My private detective, Harry Walthenson

I’d like to say he’s from that great literary mold of Sam Spade, or Mickey Spillane, or Phillip Marlow, but he’s not.

But, I’ve watched Humphrey Bogart play Sam Spade with much interest, and modelled Harry and his office on it. Similarly, I’ve watched Robert Micham play Phillip Marlow with great panache, if not detachment, and added a bit of him to the mix.

Other characters come into play, and all of them, no matter what period they’re from, always seem larger than life. I’m not above stealing a little of Mary Astor, Peter Lorre or Sidney Greenstreet, to breathe life into beguiling women and dangerous men alike.

Then there’s the title, like

The Case of the Unintentional Mummy – this has so many meanings in so many contexts, though I imagine that back in Hollywood in the ’30s and ’40s, this would be excellent fodder for Abbott and Costello

The Case of the Three-Legged Dog – Yes, I suspect there may be a few real-life dogs with three legs, but this plot would involve something more sinister. And if made out of plaster, yes, they’re always something else inside.

But for mine, to begin with, it was “The Case of the …”, because I had no idea what the case was going to be about, well, I did, but not specifically.

Then I liked the idea of calling it “The Case of the Brother’s Revenge” because I began to have a notion there was a brother no one knew about, but that’s stuff for other stories, not mine, so then went the way of the others.

Now it’s called ‘A Case of Working With the Jones Brothers’, finished the first three drafts, and at the editor for the last.

I have high hopes of publishing it in early 2021. It even has a cover.

PIWalthJones1