Here’s a little something that I’ve been working on to try and meet my 20,000 word goal. This is unedited, rough draft stuff. I hope you enjoy it!<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Kate had been afraid, when the police took her, that she would be placed under arrest and thrown in jail for Sarah\u2019s murder. Jail was not a comfortable proposition for the coywolf on several levels and definitely not in the city where she would be tossed into the general population if they decided to search her.<\/p>\n
It turned out that she needn\u2019t have worried. Inspector Allen, the terrier who\u2019d followed Sarah\u2019s stretcher out of the abandoned house\u2019s basement, had turned out to be a very kind soul, one truly interested in finding out about the Jane Doe he\u2019d only just come to know as Sarah.<\/p>\n
Kate sat now in a functionally comfortable chair in the inspector\u2019s office, her tears having dried up a half hour past. He had just stepped out to fetch her a cup of tea before continuing to question her about what she knew. The thought of English style tea made her nose wrinkle, but for the moment it was likely the best she was going to find. She couldn\u2019t well ask for something in the Irish manner, after all.<\/p>\n
The part that nagged at her insides was the idea of being questioned about what she knew. Thing was, she didn\u2019t know how much she knew. Not really. Sarah was a prostitute, there was no denying that given where the murder took place and the state the body was found in, plus hiding information wouldn\u2019t help catch her killer, and that, more than anything, Kate wanted to see done.<\/p>\n
The office was simple and orderly, just in the way an official\u2019s office should be, she felt. Simple desk, a bookshelf and a filing cabinet, and a small closet in the corner.<\/p>\n
She knew what she had seen in her visions and nightmares, but to make the police understand that would require a lot of explanation and a lot of luck on her part. For that, she decided, she would have to dance lightly around the edge of the true facts. She had the information that Mick had given her. She could give them that. No need to tell them about bleeding cracks in walls, or corpses coming to life to speak to her.<\/p>\n
Her ears pricked up at the sound of the door closing behind her, and her nose picked up the wafting scent of tea. Jasmine, in fact. Very nice, and unexpected for a police officer.<\/p>\n
\u201cHere you are, Miss Mather,\u201d said Inspector Allen, proffering the cup and saucer.<\/p>\n
\u201cThank you, inspector. It\u2019s lovely.\u201d She took a sip and let the steam and the weak bitterness draw her focus.<\/p>\n
\u201cNow this is going to sound insensitive, and rude, but would you tell me about Sarah\u2019s\u2026er\u2026\u201d He paused. Kate watched the wheels turning in his head to find the proper euphemism to convey his meaning.<\/p>\n
\u201cWork habits,\u201d she offered.<\/p>\n
\u201cEr, yes. Did she have any repeat clients, or any new ones she talked about recently?\u201d<\/p>\n
Kate shook her head. \u201cNot recently, no. She was peculiar that way. She always wanted to tell me about the big ones, but not until after. Always said she\u2019d jinx it if she talked.\u201d<\/p>\n
The fennec had been superstitious. Kate knew that. Not in any particular way, just that any old-wives\u2019 tale or myth that crossed her path she would fold into her belief system. Fennecs were largely a nomadic species, and their storytellers incorporated the stories of those they encountered. Kate supposed it was in their blood, in the same way that the glamour was in hers.<\/p>\n
\u201cNow, miss, what do you mean by the big ones?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019d appreciate you not calling me \u2018miss\u2019. M\u2019name\u2019s Kate. You can call me that. Just Kate.\u201d<\/p>\n
The terrier stumbled over his words for a moment, jumbling them like a seer\u2019s bag of runes, before he was able to continue.<\/p>\n
\u201cAh, yes, er, Kate. Could you tell me what you mean by \u2018the big ones\u2019? Any information could be immensely helpful to us.\u201d<\/p>\n
Kate sipped the bitter tea, wishing she\u2019d some honey to sweeten it. She loved honey. It tasted of nature, and not of backbreaking labor and sorrow.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe \u2018big ones,\u2019 that was how she described her patrons who kept her around a few nights. She was as close to a true courtesan as we come in Whitechapel, Inspector. Sometimes she\u2019d snare a rich beau, or sometimes a lady\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
Allen nearly choked on his own tongue. \u201cN-now, miss, er, I hardly think that\u2019s appropriate\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you want to know, or not, Inspector? Don\u2019t turn all blushing moralist on me now. We\u2019re already talking about a lady of the evening. What does it matter to you which of the sexes she took pay from? Anyway, yes, a rich male\u2014or female<\/i>, if it was the right one,\u201d she relished throwing the word in his face, hoping that it would sting him again for his thoughts about her sweet and vivacious Sarah,\u00a0 <\/span>\u201cwould sometimes take her into their home for a few days, where she would live by day as a cousin or old family friend, or some such fiction. She was a born actress that one.<\/p>\n \u201cAnyway, by day, she lived the role, by night, she was the client\u2019s toy. She didn\u2019t often go into the details of that part of the job, and I never asked. It was her business, not mine.\u201d<\/p>\n Inspector Allen nodded and sipped his own cup of tea. Kate observed that his paws trembled despite his attempts to hide it.<\/p>\n He\u2019s worried about this case,<\/i> she thought, letting her gaze soften. The anxiety in the terrier radiated out from him. It was clear in his movements, in the tension her superior ears could detect in his voice, and in the scent of nervousness that poured out from under his uniform. If she was going to press her luck, now was the time.<\/p>\n \u201cInspector, before we continue further, I must see her.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m afraid that\u2019s out of the question Miss\u2026Kate. I\u2019m sorry, but\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n \u201cYou want to solve her murder?\u201d she asked, setting the teacup in the saucer and putting it aside, on the inspector\u2019s desk.<\/p>\n \u201cI do.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThen I need to see her. I need to see that it\u2019s really her. For all we know I could be telling you all about Sarah when she\u2019d not even the victim, and I don\u2019t want to waste the precious time of justice. I note that you\u2019ve already spent a great deal more time on this murder than any of the other girls in recent memory in the same area.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cNow, just a minute, Kate. Scotland Yard\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n \u201cTreats all cases with due diligence, dignity, and respect. Yes,\u201d she snapped, rising to her feet. She wasn\u2019t so tall, and yet she still managed down at the inspector. \u201cI know all the platitudes, Inspector. But this one, this case has you genuinely scared. You want what information I have, if any, I want to see Sarah\u2019s body in the morgue. If nothing else I can act as next of kin for identification\u2019s sake.\u201d<\/p>\n The inspector\u2019s face tensed as he considered his options. As Kate knew he would, in the end, he acquiesced with a resigned nod.<\/p>\n \u201cVery good, Miss\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n \u201cKate,\u201d she reminded him with a smile and a friendly flick of her ears.<\/p>\n \u201cKate. But I warn you, I\u2019ll not be responsible if you faint or go into hysterics again.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019ll be fine, Inspector. I give you my word.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThen let\u2019s go. It shouldn\u2019t be busy at this time of the day. Less likely to raise hackles.\u201d<\/p>\n Inspector Allen stood and held open his windowed office door, waving her through ahead of him. When it closed behind, the glass rattled in its frame.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Here’s a little something that I’ve been working on to try and meet my 20,000 word goal. This is unedited, rough draft stuff. I hope you enjoy it! Kate had been afraid, when the police took her, that she would be placed under arrest and thrown in jail for Sarah\u2019s murder. Jail was not […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-41","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chriswilliamsauthor.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/41","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chriswilliamsauthor.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chriswilliamsauthor.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.chriswilliamsauthor.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.chriswilliamsauthor.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=41"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/www.chriswilliamsauthor.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/41\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":42,"href":"http:\/\/www.chriswilliamsauthor.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/41\/revisions\/42"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.chriswilliamsauthor.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=41"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.chriswilliamsauthor.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=41"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.chriswilliamsauthor.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=41"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}