I love to write in all kinds of genre, but I must admit that detective fiction is one of the most interesting and challenging. It may begin with a simple idea, a general plot line, a couple of well formed characters, but it soon leads me down paths that demand I follow, whilst keeping an eye on what has gone before and what will happen next.
I must create intrigue, I must bring my reader along with me, shining a light on certain details, hinting at a resolution, leaving them to fill in the gaps and carry a set of possible outcomes in their own imaginations. Who could the killer be? We rule characters in then rule them out. It's a delicate balancing act, and one that kept me awake at night when I was writing the Alice Candy series, particularly Hit and Run, which took so many turns that it required five drafts and two professional edits before it could be published.
If I read a book, any kind of book, I notice inconsistencies. These inconsistencies are even more pronounced in detective fiction.
Hanson's Hunch is a short story, so the pitfalls may not be as great, but the challenge is the same. I strive to draw believable characters, some of whom we can empathise with, some suspect, some dislike, all brought together in a story that, hopefully, has integrity, and the all important quality of creating interest in the reader, sustaining their curiosity, and providing an ending that satisfies.
Classed by Amazon as a '45 minute short', I invite you to investigate, along with Inspector Hanson, the death of a local young woman - I wonder whether you will solve the crime before he does...
This is how the tale begins:
“She looks
almost peaceful,” said the officer. “No
blood. No sign of a struggle.”
“That may be so, lad,” replied
Inspector Hanson. “That may be so.”
There was a moment of
expectation in his young colleague’s face, a subtle straining to glean what
wisdom, what hidden meaning lay beneath his superior’s words. But the moment passed and both men resumed
their contemplation of the young woman lying on her front, but with her head
turned towards them, eyes open and lips slightly apart, as though she were
about to speak. Her legs were bent at the knee in a position reminiscent of
sideways running. Almost comical, apart
from the fact that she was as far removed as it was possible to be from such
whimsical cartoon imagery, being made of flesh and blood, recently gone cold.
Hanson grunted and looked up at
the spreading dawn sky with its split clouds lit by weak sunshine. It would be a lovely June day, later.
Download the rest of the story (free) here
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