Tag: Detective

Today’s News in: Rip – Find the Magic Key

red swatch— Omah and Bri head back to Grand Bay Island City but he knows the danger is not over for him. —

The morning came too soon for Omah. Not only did his head pound but the woman beside him looked too beautiful to disturb. He had showered and ordered a late breakfast before Bri stuck her face over the single, thin sheet and smiled at him.
“We have to get back,” he said. “The VTOL will be here in less than an hour.”
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me!” she said, throwing off the sheet and running into the shower room.
On the VTOL flight back to Grand Bay, Omah tried to make conversation:
“I guess we’ll know by the end of the day what Gowdy has to do with all this.”
“Yes.”
“And whether Greentree thinks this is all solved and I can go home.”
“Yes.”
The last part was what Bri could not stop thinking about. When the crew weren’t looking Bri clasped Omah’s hand on the seat between them. He took hold of her hand and stared at the range of ice-capped mountains that drifted
beneath them. Bri stared at the blue dome of sky ahead.
“I’m a dead man if Mel finds out!” Omah told himself.

Rip-Find the Magic Key: 2nd longest Western novel at 1 M+ words. Subscribe bit.ly/LazloFerran | Buy Vol 1 bit.ly/ripvol1 | Understand more bit.ly/inforip

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Today’s News from: Rip – Find the Magic Key

red swatch— Omah and Bri discuss the day’s events in his hotel room and decide that they are confused by the evidence. Omah finds it hard to resist kissing her and Bri leaves, convinced he has fallen for her at last. —

“What do we do now?” Bri asked.
“Cry? What the hell are we getting into here?” Omah replied.
“I dunno. It’s big. What does that mean? Is it useful? Or gibberish?”
“I don’t know! There are an awful lot of pieces to this puzzle! Normally I struggle to fine one! This isn’t like looking for a needle in a haystack. More like looking for haystack in a small pile of needles!”
“Yah.”
“Well, I’m gonna need sleep. Tomorrow, we need to track down the other staff and find out what we can about how Bentwell got there. I’ll have to interview him but I doubt we’ll get much out of him. In any case, it’s gonna be a big day.”
“Okay. I better get some sleep too then.”
As Bri stood up, her hand accidentally brushed against Omah’s. The touch impelled him to accompany her to the door and when he opened, it she turned so that her face came to within inches of his own. Omah could feel the warmth of her breath and saw her lips, red with lipstick, open, revealing her white teeth. He wanted to kiss her.
“Good night Omah,” she said, breathing hard.
“Seven! Set your alarm!” he called after her.

Rip-Find the Magic Key: 2nd longest Western novel at 1 M+ words. Subscribe bit.ly/LazloFerran | Buy Vol 1 bit.ly/ripvol1 | Understand more bit.ly/inforip

Today’s News in: Rip – Find the Magic Key

red swatch— Omah discovers that the hut in the photograph has been disused for some time but not abandoned. Somebody has been there recently. —

The ride through the forest felt very pleasant to Omah, filled with views of trees just putting on the amber leaves of autumn, and silky streams gushing over rocky falls. Roger peered left and right, looking for something, and then announced:
“Here we are!”
Roger turned onto a dirt track and steered the hovercar carefully between the thick trunks of tall trees until they burst into a clearing and stopped.
“Okay. You two stay here,” Omah said. “I want to look around first.”
Omah picked his way carefully between the car and the steps to the hut, scanning the ground for anything of human origins. Reaching the hut, he tried the door but found it locked. With a hard shove, he tore the padlock off its rotten, wooden mounting and peered inside. It didn’t look as if anybody had visited for years. The meagre contents consisted of a bed, a stove and sink, a cupboard and a tiny water closet. Omah crept around the shack, peering under the bed and stopping at the bedside table. A single cigarette butt lay in an ashtray. He sniffed it, noted its damp smell and returned to the hovercar.
“Nobody’s been here for a while!” he declared, holding up the transparent evidence bag
containing the butt.

Rip-Find the Magic Key: 2nd longest Western novel at 1 M+ words. Subscribe bit.ly/LazloFerran | Buy Vol 1 bit.ly/ripvol1 | Understand more bit.ly/inforip

Today’s News in: Rip – Find the Magic Key

red swatch— Omah DeLion and Bri recruit a tree expert to help them locate the missing chess Grand Master Ezekiel Bentwell and the quantum AI, A-9. —

‘So she did record our conversation in her office,’ Omah thought, as he left the meeting.
Used to clients’ frustration, the detective shrugged off Greentree’s attacks, took a relaxing lunch with Rialto and led him to meet Bri in the conference with the tree expert. A large blow-up of the photograph had been projected on the wall, and the expert paced up and down in front of it pointing out shrubs of interest with a laser pen. Half an hour passed without him giving them anything of interest. Omah glanced at Bri, as if to say,
“Let’s wind this up.”
But then the expert coughed and pointed to a sapling in the corner of the photograph, asking:
“See this?”
Bri and Omah nodded.
“This is the most interesting of all. It’s Prunus trilobal, the flowering almond shrub. I had to do some research because I haven’t come across it personally. It’s only found now in
one area.”
Omah and Bri sat up, but the expert didn’t say anything else.
“Well!” Omah said, losing patience.
“Tell us!” Bri added.
The expert smiled.
“It grows around the Barro area, near the Behrendt Sea. Hope that helps!”

Rip-Find the Magic Key: 2nd longest Western novel at 1 M+ words. Subscribe bit.ly/LazloFerran | Buy Vol 1 bit.ly/ripvol1 | Understand more bit.ly/inforip

Blog: The Fast and the Furious

This Week’s Excerpt
This week it comes from the upcoming publication which is currently going under the name Escher’s Staircase. I am going off that title though; anyway its an erotic suspense novel with deep philosophical angles (I hope!). This part is from an unnamed section but lets call it The Detective. If you read the novel you will know where it fits in.

Escher’s Staircase
Copyright © 2013 by Lazlo Ferran
All Rights Reserved.

The red 1971 Pontiac LeMans Convertible streaked along the highway at full speed. The muscular driver behind the wheel was wearing Ray Ban’s and his medium-length brown hair was ruffled violently by the air-stream over the windscreen. He seemed intent only on the road ahead. He held the accelerator flat to the floor with his foot. On the passenger seat was an elegant blonde. Her hair too was flowing out behind her head in the turbulent air. Her head was reclined and at rest on the top of the seat. She appeared to be asleep. The car raced on.
This case started – as I’d always dreamed the best one would, with a blonde walking into my office. Actually, she was better than the blondes I have dreamed of. Tall – statuesque even, with an hourglass figure a man could kill for, she somehow had the face of a top call girl but the eyes of childhood innocence. She looked like my first, my last love, and I was hooked.
I had to take another drag on my cigarette before I could talk:
“Yes? Can I help you?”
“I hope so. I need you to find a killer.”
“Whose?”
“My sister’s.”
I stubbed my cigarette butt out and blew a long stream of white smoke towards the window. “Okay, so why aren’t the LAPD interested?”
“They gave up, Mr Andrews.” My name slid off her tongue like an oyster but I wanted to hear her to use my first name.
“Right. You have funds?”
“I have what it takes.”
“Yeah. Let’s just start with the basics.” I took out a creased pro-forma and filled it in as she supplied the answers. When I had finished, she had lit an expensive cigarette. It floated between her fingers as if she were trying to stop it drifting away. “That’ll be one grand for the first month, including expense, payable half in advance and half on completion. You will receive a full, written report at the end of the month and a free one hour consultation as part of a revue. If you wish to continue, the rate will probably be similar. Does this sound okay?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Sign and print your name here and then if you would like to pay the deposit, I have a few questions.” She signed using her own pink pen from her handbag. She was wearing a blue three piece with a very short, tight skirt and a matching hat. Whoever’s woman she was had to be paying for this investigation. I put her at twenty-two.
“I’ve no doubt … Miss Stevens …” I began, reading her name from the form. “…I can find out a good deal from the Court Records but suppose you tell me what I won’t find there?”
“Alright. My sister… older sister by two years, was murdered … shot near the corner of Sunset and Vine late one night while leaving a restaurant and walking to a car. The car belonged to Johnny Chico. Here’s her photo.” She pulled a folded, glossy 10×8 from her handbag, opened it up and lay it in front of me.
“She looks just like you; could be your twin?” The blonde opposite nodded noncommittally.
“I’m going with him now. He likes young blondes.” She blew a plume of white smoke to emphasise her point. “I have reason to believe it’s Johnny’s ex who had my sister shot. Shavaun would not have done anything to deserve being shot. I believe it was to punish Johnny. I want you to find him.”
“I presume Johnny is paying for this.”
“Yes, but he tried to stop me. You see, I think his ex, Stella, wants to kill me now. She is only interested in money. If I don’t catch the killer – and her, it will be my head on her plate next.”

Other News
As I begin to think about starting work on my out-and-out Vampire novel this track has become my inspiration (Well it is from Romania!). It’s hauntingly beautiful so give it a listen:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PUlD_uwu_P0 by Cleopatra Stratan. Enjoy! She’s on Facebook, search for Cleostratan (her profiles seem to change around a lot).
Ordo Lupus and the Temple Gate will be free from 30 August-3 September on Amazon so tell everyone, their dogs, their friends and their dog’s best friends!
Lastly, here is my cast for Too Bright the Sun. Try adding your own!

Other News
A review of an old classic this week: the film The Naked Jungle (1954). I watched this with the g/f and its pretty much the first film of my choice we have watched together.
It’s an old pot-boiler with Charlton Heston, Eleanor Parker and William Conrad (who went on to play Cannon, the detective. Really it is mostly Heston and Parker thrashing out a bizarre bride-by-post situation on a plantation in deepest South America around the turn of the century. In fact Conrad plays the guy who stood in for Parker’s character at the marriage-by-proxy ceremony and he does his best to defend her against an nihilistic and increasingly agitated Christopher (Heston). Parker is brilliant as the gorgeous and forceful Joanna who has walked into the marriage with both eyes open and is determined to make a success of it. Moreover she actually falls for Christopher who is stubborn, ambitious, innocent of women but above all, lonely. He himself says he only knows how to be first and he soon finds out that as far as men go, he is not Joanna’s first. Heston hams it up brilliantly and ad-libs a scene where he throws perfume over her before demanding she leaves on the next boat. The scene is brilliantly echoed by the director when the gooseberry – a swarm of lethal Soldier Ants come to town: Christopher throws a glass bottle containing one of the ants against a painting of his own plantation hitting it squarely in the building – his palace.
The ants swarmed every 25 years (this actually has some truth to it though I believe it is not expected to happen again) and threaten to destroy Christopher’s empire. The ants throw the couple together in a struggle to survive and save the plantation.
Heston does overact a bit towards the end and the climax is rather truncated but the film comes in at a tight 95 minutes so even my girlfriend didn’t get bored! Its early Heston at his best and does Parker proud. The direction and editing is pretty good too. An early example of disaster movies and a very good one. Watch it!