Cry Me a Murder (part seven): Only a Scream Away.
Hotel Kisanti was without electricity. The lights were out, the whooshing of the ceiling fans slowed and rattled like the exhale of a dying man. The industrial freezers thawed, endangering the shelf-lives of a thousand dollars' worth of ice cream. The...
The Fire Without. (Part I)
Ellen Grant had never been on an amusement ride. That was, until today. From early childhood, mother had warned Ellen of the dangers of fun-fairs, which she saw -not only as a sign of moral decency in decline, but as a chocolate covered shortcut to...
Havana or Hell, part five
IX Katryn scratched the bridge of her nose, and placed a second engineer token on the R&D section of her map. "Your move!" she said. If my sister had assigned her researchers to develop a small project, such as a weapons upgrade, it wouldn't take...
Havana or Hell, part four
_Recap from part Three:_ _"Watch out!" she cried. "He is here."_ _"What is he doing here?" asked the General._ _"He shouldn't be here", replied Karen. She sounded concerned._ _"It's too dangerous."_ _"Guys, you're playing yesterday's tape!" I...
Havana or Hell, part three
V "Tell me, Mr Kent Do you hear voices right now?" I nodded. "They are hiding in the traffic noise." "Can you describe them to me?" "Man and woman, both sound young and old at the same time." The psychiatrist and I were in a small office in the...
Havana or Hell, part two
III Some times, when I lie awake, I feel like I'm a tiny pinprick, floating in an endless void. It's a physical sensation, but not linked to any of the usual five senses, and the feeling disappears as soon as I open my eyes. It's accompanied by a...
Havana or Hell, part one
_Havana or Hell_ I When I was a kid, my father built a small recording studio in our back yard. That was back in 1993, two years before the voices in his head told him to pack up and move out. It wasn't a fancy studio with automated mixers, digital...
Cry Me a Murder (part six): I Won't be Calling Home, mother - I'm Dead.
"Dude, I'm in trouble." I hesitated contacting inspector Quinn, because I knew he would blow a fuse if I told him about Archie Phelps, and in particular about my involvement in his demise by demon. So I postponed the call until ten thirty, when I knew...
Cry Me a Murder (part five): Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Demon
The circumstances leading to the death of Jack Tell was the subject of excited conversation and idle speculation around the breakfast buffet. I soon got the impression, he was not well-liked among the other hotel guests and staff. Slater described him...
Cry Me a Murder (Part four) : A Strange Crunching Underfoot
That night I played in the hotel bar. I played the guitar and a local musician by the name of Raymundo joined me on the keys. Going by the impromptu stage name of Sunny Dan and the Rayman, we played a bunch of jazz standards right out of _the Real...
Cry Me a Murder (Part three) The Sun, the Sea and the Silent Scream
"I'm putting you into room 110," said Fernando. "It comes with a wonderful view over the rye fields." The manager was a tall, slender man in his late fifties. His hair was almost silvery gray but with no sign of baldness setting in. Thirty years...
Cry Me a Murder (Part Two) : The Shoe that Fits
I stomped towards the exit of the Oakfort police station with a plane ticket to Mexico in my pocket and the taste of sour bile in my mouth. "Damn you, Quinn" I cursed. I had a feeling the inspector had somehow manipulated me into going on this...