Monday, 23 July 2012

This is another in the works novel Plologue chapter 1 I was working on to see if I liked where the story would go I like it but Hey let me know if you like it so I can keep moving on this one!

Book synopsis:
Australia is in the grip of a serial killer no city is safe from what the papers are dubbing the killer "Poetic Justice" or "The Cleaner". Its been 2 years and no-one is any closer to finding the killer. No evidence No leads just a trail of clean dead bodies. all in their mid twenties no apparent connection no apparent similarity, male, female, black, white. just the same MO each time a Poem, a rose, a tag. Can Detective Rupert Jones and his partner Judith Avery catch a break or is there something more sinister at work here. Only time can tell but time is running out as one of them is going to fall victim to the viscious murderer


“Poetry should be great and unobtrusive, a thing which enters into one's soul,
and does not startle it or amaze it with itself, but with its subject.”
John Keats

“All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling”
Oscar Wilde

Chapter 1 – Understanding

The day so far had been as expected, clear warm and full of beautiful fluffy white Cumulous clouds that hung as if from a huge coat hanger in the sky. A slight breeze brushed past and made the hairs on Amy’s arm stand to attention as if an unknown person was blowing on the appendage and up the nape of her neck. Amy Lewis was any normal young woman in her early twenties, she was fit a size twelve and sitting at five feet eight inches tall and weighing in at a pretty standard sixty kilograms she was neither thin or flabby. Her well toned body a credit to the hours she spent at the gym with weights and spin classes as well as new boxing and commando classes for core strength.

Although pretty she was no stunner but neither was she dowdy when dressed in her work clothes her curves were always evident and her current boyfriend was as always appreciative when he had chance to get her naked. She was normal for all intensive purposes and now she was on her way to her local shopping precinct to buy the salad she would never eat and the chocolate bar which was her favourite treat after a heavy work out. It would be half eaten and then placed neatly on the counter top of her kitchen, but I do get ahead of myself.
On the journey home she turned on her iPod connection in the car turned up the volume and sang along to Adams Song her favourite song, from her favourite band Blink 182, although a quite girl, she loved the fun in their punk style music and had done for many years.

She was starting to feel yucky from the workout and needed a shower quickly, and as she repositioned her left breast in her tight fitting and wet gym top she liked the weight of her breast in her hand and thought of her boyfriend maybe she would make love to him tonight, at that thought a tingle ran to her clitoris and she squeezed her legs together and smiled to herself in the rear vision mirror. The groceries were not heavy and only needed one hand to carry them and with the free hand she dove into her purse, retrieved the front door keys and opened the large oak door inward with a rush of sweet smelling air that met her from her many rood deodorisers strategically placed around the house she moved inside closed the door behind her, locked it and glided humming all the way to the kitchen. After placing the groceries in the well stocked cupboards Amy made her way upstairs to her bedroom and her well deserved shower.

A long thin box laid on the bed a white box with red stripes and a huge red ribbon on top with a rosette stuck to it. A large envelope sat under the box with her name typed neatly on it. She was full of fear and anticipation did he come in and leave this for her he has only had the key for a week and already he was being romantic towards her.

She lifted the top of the box and shrieked as she held her hand to her mouth with disbelief. In it was a single white Rose covered with what looked like blood, her first thought was to not touch the rose but the red sticky fluid on that most beautiful flower drew her in and her mind swam with desperation as she opened the envelope and pulled out the card on the front was a cute little bunny with a love heart in front of him looking all sweet and loving. The inside was awash with pasted words of “LOVE” from magazines and papers and inside a frame of pasted words was the following hand written Poem.
Roses are red,
Violets are blue
Your time is up
Look behind you!
The blood froze in Amy’s body and a chill made the hair on the back of her neck stand to attention yet again but this time she heard nothing but the beating of her own heart as she placed the card down on the bed again. She felt the breath on her neck and thought it was all just a dream a joke that he was playing on her after all who would want to hurt her, Amy was a model citizen a loving individual who had paid her dues to society and her selfish family.

She felt the cold steel against her back and she froze unable to move the card dropped from her hand and she felt the knife cutting at her gym top and as it sliced all the way thru, the wet sweaty material fell from her body easily letting her breasts feel the air as her nipples tighten with fright and scared anticipation. The buds tightened and shrunk as a warm hand reached in front and cupped her left breast teasing the nipple between thumb and forefinger. She let out a groan and thought it must be him and this was a setup to scare her and it was working. As she let out her held breath as a sigh of some relief the hand tightened on her breast and held her as she felt the blade enter her back below the shoulder blade and puncture her left lung. A scream started to emanate from her vocal cords but the knife was removed and brought to bear on her throat in mere seconds and the words just never made it out. Her mind swam in that split second just before death from blood loss hit her and she remembered thinking I didn’t eat my treat, as she left this earth.

Her assailant carried her now slick with blood body into the bathroom and placed her in a warm bath that was already prepared and both washed the blood from themselves many times and it was the third bath full of water that saw the blood stop flowing from her dead puppet like corpse.

Amy Lewis was laid out on her bed with her rose placed on her chest and the card neatly positioned in her left hand. Her eyes were left open staring at the glass covered sliding doors of her robe, her head turned to the left to accommodate, as if watching herself in her naked glory. A flash went off in the room as a memento was taken for later use and a keepsake memory. She looked so beautiful and pale laying there waiting for a lover who would never come to arrive. All the clothes and shoes were bundled into a double lined bin bag and tied off, the new clothes were now on and the killer slipped downstairs and on the way out took two big bites from the chocolate bar and left it on the table. The sweet sensation was greedily accepted after such a long mornings work.

The killer slipped out the front door and into Amy’s car and drove to a secluded spot in a car park at the harbour terminal at the now rarely used Outer harbour. A timer was placed in the boot with the clothes and twenty litre petrol container and a digital alarm that would send a spark into the closed boot full of petrol at exactly three pm that same day. A satisfied murderer and sometime poet left the car park in an easy manner in a late model Ford Falcon with a smile that belied the evil that had been perpetrated and a sense of achievement that was always had after such an exciting days work.

Larry Davis sat in the North Haven bar sipping his double Jack and cola after another great day at Morphettville race course. His contacts had been right and he was celebrating by himself because that’s how he like d it. You don’t become rich as a gambler but you don’t get rich with a woman either.

“You alone handsome” a voice said from behind Larry.

As he turned around a tall slim beautiful blond woman with a full glass of champagne sat next to him and said do you like poetry?

Copywrite - Graeme Hawke 2012