Tag: suspense

The Cinema of my dreams – Was it just another surveillance job – Episode 61

This story is now on the list to be finished so over the new few weeks, expect a new episode every few days.

The reason why new episodes have been sporadic, there are also other stories to write, and I’m not very good at prioritizing.

But, here we are, a few minutes opened up and it didn’t take long to get back into the groove.

Things are about to get complicated…

The Detective Inspector came back twenty minutes later.

“Latest news that I can tell you, is both the bodies belong to older people, we think the owner and one other.  They were not in the fire, but some distance from the house.”

“Murdered?”

“People don’t shoot themselves in the back.  They were trying to escape.”

The mother and a friend perhaps.  Anna or someone else cleaning up?  Was she getting ready to leave or gone already?

“No other body?”

“You think someone else was here?”

“Our agent, male, mid-thirties.  He was here the last time I saw him.”

“Not so far, but I’ll tell them to widen the search.”

Had O’Connell escaped, or was he with her, and he was not simply a means to an end?  The facts, as I knew them, didn’t seem to fit that scenario.

What worried me was that Dobbin hadn’t shown up yet.  Could it be he was finally one step behind?  I could only hope so.  I didn’t want to run into him if and when I found Anna.

If Anna and O’Connell were about to leave, it would be reasonable to assume they’d go home, pack then leave.  O’Connell’s flat at the same block where Josephine lived.

When we arrived at the front entrance to the block I had that sensation of being watched.  It was possible Dobbin had the place under surveillance and I cursed myself for not checking to see if there was a back entrance.

I tried to see where the surveillance would be, places I would hide, if not in plain sight, but nothing was readily apparent.  Of course, it could be the paranoia setting in.

If this was what the spy’s life was like, I was beginning to like it less and less.  There were so many lies told by so many people it was impossible to tell what the truth was any more.

But it beat being a clerk in an office any day of the week.

And I didn’t get to work alongside people like Jennifer either.

“You sure we can get into this place.  I’m starting to feel exposed out here.”  She was shivering, because of the cold.

The temperature had dropped considerably in the last half hour.

I entered the code and the door opened.  “Yes.”

I ushered her in and followed, taking a last look outside.  Yes.  Just caught a glimpse of a man on the corner almost out of sight.  He was on his phone, so that would mean we would have minutes rather than enough time to do anything before someone arrived.

Would it be Dobbin, Jan, Monica or Joanne?

The list of interested parties was getting longer.

We almost jogged up the three flights of stairs, then on the landing, I went first, and Jennifer stayed back, gun in hand, ready for anything.

At least I hoped she was.

We were taught how to pick almost any lock in the shortest [possible time.  Of course, in practice, when not under pressure, you could do it in seconds.

Now, because of the cold, my hands were slightly numb, and the pressure was mounting so things didn’t quite work the way they should, it took longer.  A minute whereas in practice, seconds.

I drew my gun and opened the door carefully.

Nothing but darkness.

We had prearranged that Jennifer would wait outside until I gave her an all-clear, or if I didn’t come back in two minutes she should come in after me.

I went in but left the door ajar.  Closed, fumbling to open it in a panic would get me killed.  Little details.

Silence.

There didn’t appear to be anyone in the flat.  Remembering the layout, I headed towards the passage leading to the bedroom, and about half way across the room, I kicked my foot into something.

A body?

I went back and switched on the light.

A body indeed.

O’Connell.

Dead, a bullet to the head.

…

© Charles Heath 2020-2023

A photograph from the inspirational bin – 49

What story does it inspire?

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…

This photo was taken at a Castello in Tuscany, Italy, and was quite interesting.

I was fascinated as to what was behind the door in front, and up the stairs to the right. I was guessing, up the stairs was the exit from the ballroom, but it might be something else quite banal.

Behind me was the room that had all the names of the family who had lived at the castle.

More interesting was the fact there was the old castle, going back centuries, and the new castle, not so old.

But…

One could cast their minds back to the 1500s perhaps and imagine the castle, on a hill, overlooking what are now vineyards, but could once have been the forest.

Extensive gardens at the back could have been where the jousting and other games could have taken place.

There would be a feasting hall, the kitchens, the servants, and there was a keep.

Italy had a rich history of each of the towns launching raids on other towns, and these towns were walled in, like San Gimignano, with 14 watch towers around the perimeter, where the fortifications were such they kept out the oncoming marauders.

Siena is much the same, a walled town.

Each had a large central square, and Siena famously holds the Il Palio di Siena every year in theirs.

Just being in Tuscany is almost inspiration enough for any sort of story with Tuscany as the backdrop.

A photograph from the inspirational bin – 48

What story does it inspire?

…

…

This photograph represents an idyllic scene, a pool at the bottom of a waterfall, which on a fine day would be perfect.

The fact it looks to be in the middle of nowhere is neither here nor there because…

That’s where the writer’s inventiveness kicks in.

So…

How do we get there? If it’s below the waterfall, then we came up the river, which is basically how you would go anyway, it’s just the depth of the river that determines how far you can go.

We had a situation like that where the depth of the river nearly stopped us from getting far enough up the river into the mountains to discover some amazing territory.

You could also go downriver, but since this river might start up in the mountains, it might be a long way.

Why would we be there?

The boring answer, we are on holiday.

The better answer, we’re searching for gold, and so are others who are trying to get us to move on, or we’re searching for something, just insert what you want to find. I was thinking: an intrepid brother or sister who has gone missing, and the waterfall was the last place they were seen.

And, what if there’s a secret entrance behind the waterfall, that opens into an underground complex with sophisticated, very strange and never seen before equipment, that hasn’t been used in a very long time.

Somehow I like the last one best.

And, just to add a new twist, you find a human-like body in a pod, and when someone accidentally leans on a button, it comes to life. Is it human, or is it a robot?

Or, is it….?

A photograph from the inspirational bin – 47

What story does it inspire?

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…

A table for two…

This was at a winery in Italy where, on the tour we took, we had lunch as part of the tour, after, of course, a tour of the winery.

It was a picturesque setting, and the food, and matching wines, were exquisite, and perhaps we may have had slightly more than we should have.

But, they did leave the wine behind…

However…

Inspirationally, we could base the story around a lunch or dinner, two people looking to get their relationship back on track, deciding to take time out alone to see if the part is still there.

How could it not in a setting like this?

It could be the setting for a chef, trying out his new menu, or working on a new menu, getting tourists to sample the courses and wines.

We’d have to make the chef a man, or woman, on the edge of disaster, and looking to recover from a disaster of some description – like a failed restaurant and the need for second chances…

Or…

A failing chateau, typified by the declining visitor number and warring family members, all of whom were left a share in the large but rapidly deteriorating mansion.

Should they renovate and turn it into a hotel with a 5 star restaurant, or should they sell to developers and see it bulldozed, or will one, secretly very wealthy, offer to buy them all out and preserve the ancestral home?

Anything is possible…

First Dig Two Graves – The Final Draft – Day 4

The second Zoe thriller.

…

John’s search for Zoe was at an impasse, simply because it was her job to disappear and reappear at will, and he knows he was no match for her in that regard.

So, having gone to her residence in Paris, not finding her there which was predictable, the place looked like it had not been visited in months, he concluded a short stay might help to clear his head.

Until he gets a phone call.

Kidnappers, other than the Russians, have captured Zoe, and they’re ringing him for a ransom.

Odd, because he was not the one who placed the kidnap order on her, so why would they be ringing him?

This was initiated by Zoe, no doubt playing the kidnapper by sending him to a bigger payday.

If that’s the case then John has to deduce she has faith in him to come and get her.

Which he’s going to do, but not on his own.

It’s time to call Sebastian, someone John knew would know what to do.

Or at least hope he does!

…

Today’s writing, with Zoe languishing in a dungeon waiting for a white knight, 3,270 words, for a total of 8,871.

A photograph from the inspirational bin – 46

What story does it inspire?

…

…

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?

First Dig Two Graves – The Final Draft – Day 4

The second Zoe thriller.

…

John’s search for Zoe was at an impasse, simply because it was her job to disappear and reappear at will, and he knows he was no match for her in that regard.

So, having gone to her residence in Paris, not finding her there which was predictable, the place looked like it had not been visited in months, he concluded a short stay might help to clear his head.

Until he gets a phone call.

Kidnappers, other than the Russians, have captured Zoe, and they’re ringing him for a ransom.

Odd, because he was not the one who placed the kidnap order on her, so why would they be ringing him?

This was initiated by Zoe, no doubt playing the kidnapper by sending him to a bigger payday.

If that’s the case then John has to deduce she has faith in him to come and get her.

Which he’s going to do, but not on his own.

It’s time to call Sebastian, someone John knew would know what to do.

Or at least hope he does!

…

Today’s writing, with Zoe languishing in a dungeon waiting for a white knight, 3,270 words, for a total of 8,871.

First Dig Two Graves – The Final Draft – Day 2

The second Zoe thriller.

…

Just when you think you’ve got a good start, it all comes crashing down.

Here’s the thing…

I’ve been planning the sequel for quite some time, and from time to time, I’ve been jotting down notes about how the story will go. I thought I had filed them all in the same place, and because I thought I had all of them, I missed a part.

This was confirmed when I found a synopsis, something I rarely make before writing a story, with details of several sections I obviously added when the thought came to me. Perhaps the idea of the synopsis was to consolidate all the ideas, at a time when I thought I was going to sit down and write the story.

Dated a month or so before covid came along, I suspect it all got set aside for the two or so year’s hiatus.

Now, the time has come, and today, I went n a detailed search of three computers, four phones, cloud storage, and the boxes that hold all the handwritten notes.

I have a reference to the section, and several chapters, but no writing. In the back of my mind, I have a feeling I’d written the chapters, but the evidence says otherwise.

Damn!

I’ll move on, and come back to it later. At the moment it doesn’t have relevance.

Oh, and Zoe has now become Mary-Anne. What is John going to think when he finally finds her.

…

Todays writing, introducing Mary Anne, 1,501 words, for a total of 3,610.

‘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 set up.

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 the 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!

…

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

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The cinema of my dreams – I always wanted to go on a treasure hunt – Episode 65

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.

…

The Ormiston’s from the papers

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It was a question of what was I looking for.  It would be easy to say I wanted a piece of paper that definitively said where the treasure was or find a map that led straight to it.

Instead, there was, in one box, a dozen journals filled with the ramblings of a madman.

Searching for treasure had sent Ormiston senior mad.  For an hour, perhaps longer, I tried to decipher the spidery writing and then gave up when it switched to German.

I assembled the journals in order of his expeditions and found the first easy to follow because it was a time of excitement and expectation, that he would find the treasure.  There were pages on exactly what he thought the treasure was worth, the sort of pieces they would find, and what he would do with the proceeds.

There were drawings of items off the map and his interpretation of what they represented.  It was a rather good description of the coastline and its anomalies as they related to map landmarks.  They were, almost all, the same as the Boggs interpretations.

When the discovery didn’t happen, when the first euphoria wore off and the search became bogged down in acrimony and arguments, and the realization the map they were using was not as clear as first believed, that was where it all began to fall apart.

Reading the words, feeling the disappointment seeping off the page, it must have been quite a blow.

The second expedition didn’t start off with the same fanfare, but almost as if they were expected to fail.  Too little time had been spent analyzing what went wrong and reidentifying the coastal landmarks.

And, when it did fail, the last comment in the diary was fairly succinct.  “What if there is no treasure?”

In another, scrawled heavily on several pages at the back, “look for the big A” was repeated several times, and much underlined.

There were five other boxes with papers, charts, notebooks, and books that belonged on a shelf but instead were neatly stacked.  They’d been in the boxes for some time, and had that aroma books got when left in the damp too long, and, in fact, when I tried to open some, the pages had stuck together.

A lot of the books were about pirates, reference texts, and fiction.  Part of one box was set aside for our particular pirate, and, reading through what could be read, a lot of the information was contradictory.  One book postulated that the said pirate wasn’t a pirate at all, casting doubt on whether he ever existed at all.

The maps were a different story, and, yes, they were all similar except for small details an observation I had made before.  None had what I would have called ‘new’ features, just a rehash of all the others.  Some were old, but most had the appearance of being made to look old.

Then, at the bottom of a box of books, were copies of newspaper articles, aged, stained, and some in various stages of disintegration.  The Bahama Argus, The Barbadian, The Antigua Herald and Gazette, The Bermuda Colonist, and the Dominica Chronicle.  All had references to Captain Johannsson, and his vessel, the Sea Serpent.

There was such a Captain, and there was such a ship, and there were reports of a vessel roving the seas, looking for prey.  And those reports covered a great deal of plunder, definitely, the sort that would find its way into a number of sea chests.

But, was this the treasure that Ormiston believed was hidden somewhere in The Grove?

Something caught my attention on the first diary, the way it sat and the light reflected off it, and picking it up and looking at it showed no anomaly in the surface, not until it sat on a certain angle and in the sunlight.

A slight ripple down one edge of the spine, and with careful probing, there was a split in the material of the cover pasted back down, but in the time since it had been glued back, the glue had dissolved and the simple act of picking the book up and parted the split.

Lifting it gently, I could see a piece of paper tucked in and gently coaxed it out.

It was very thin and fragile, but the writing was clear.  Entries from what might have been a logbook.  I knew this only because I had been out of a sailing boat once when at school, and had seen the boat’s logbook, noting where the boat had been.

This page had only a few entries, the location of its departure, in latitude and longitude, a number of the daily distances travelled, and conditions, and the last, another latitude and longitude.

When I put the first coordinates into my GPS, it was near the island of Antigua, and then the destination, just up the coast near the old mall.  The name of the vessel, in almost illegible writing, the Sea Serpent.

So, there was a logbook, although it might not exist now, it did at some point in the past, and Ormiston had either found it or seen it.  The writing on the piece of paper was his. It proved, if it was authentic, there was a ship, and it did come to this coast.

I carefully folded it and hid it in my wallet, then replaced everything where I found it.  Enough research for today.  I tried not to look guilty when I left.

…

© Charles Heath 2020-2023