Monday, 28 November 2016

Now - another excerpt

I'm going to have to try again to get my politics/crime/urban fantasy ideas wrapped into a full story. I've tried twice. The last time failed mostly because the lead character was undeveloped. I need a proper story arc but I'm slowly getting towards a decent lead, Detective Yara Lightfoot, see below. I picture her as a charming cynic, actually a nihilist with a hidden idealism that makes her an unusual police officer. This side should come to the fore as the story develops. Maybe I'll work on her and the character will provide the plot. Meanwhile, I've definitely got plans for Little Frank.

DCI Yara Lightfoot strode into her office. "What have you got for me?" she asked. "What crazy crap has the world dropped for us today?"

"Let's see" said Little Frank, who had been waiting for her, ready, at his desk. He brought up some cases on his computer. "We've got a dead cult leader..." he peered at the screen, "Martin Ranfurly-Smythe, funny name, an actor in real life apparently."

DCI Lightfoot smiled at this. She sat in her chair at her desk, leaned back and listened. "And...?"

"He led the First Order of Odobena" said Little Frank.

"What's that...?"

"Walrus worshipers" said Little Frank.


"You can worship anything you like" he added. 

DCI Lightfoot wasn't impressed it seemed. She fetched a box out from under her desk, eventually asking "what did he die of? It must be suspicious, violent, something like that..."

"Broken neck" said Little Frank, "fractured skull, a few ribs... They found him like that in Old St Pancras churchyard."

"What was he doing there?"

"Well" said Little Frank, "according to this, word has it, Lord Hufflepuff and his followers were trying to revive the walrus that was buried there."

"Buried there...?"

"Yeah, some time in the 1820s" said Little Frank, "though it was dug up in 2003."

"OK" said Yara, cautiously. She started nibbling on a doughnut. 

"But, anyway, despite this obvious difficulty, according to SAMCS sources they succeeded."


"And the walrus killed Wotshisface..."

"A bit ungrateful" DCI Lightfoot grinned. "Doughnut...?" she offered.

"No thanks" said Little Frank. "Anyway, the walrus is now at large, somewhere in London."

"Or someone's got an angry magic walrus" added DCI Lightfoot. "Interesting, but until we find this magic walrus it sounds more like a cult-squad job and what would we charge anyone with?" Little Frank shrugged. "What else is there?" Lightfoot asked. "What about the parakeet situation?"

"All quiet on that front" said Little Frank. He looked a little crestfallen. "The gangs are sticking to the postcodes, respecting the truce." There was a pause, guilty sounding silence then Little Frank added, "there is one other thing."


"The shooting" said Little Frank, "the university shooting..."

"Why...?" DCI Lightfoot seemed shocked. She sat forward in her chair.

"The Regulars have been in touch already" said Little Frank. "They're preparing to hand it over as we speak. The thing is..."


"The police on the scene got the footage back, the CCTV footage and... well. The shooter wasn't carrying anything. Eyewitnesses said he had an assault rifle but the footage disagrees. Then a man came in..."

"A man...?"

"A man, unarmed, halfway through the massacre. He goes up to the killer, says something to him and the killer shoots himself... with nothing and the guy just... leaves..."

"He shoots himself...?"

"With nothing" Little Frank confirmed, "just his empty hands."

DCI Lightfoot sat back again, finished her doughnut, and after a moment's silence, exclaimed, "brilliant! Let's do it!"

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