|Posted on Monday, 30 October, 2006 - 11:06 pm: |
( I'm starting in a Jack Webb mode: star of fifties docu-drama Dragnet, author of The Badge. All you Ellroy fans out there know the importance of The Badge. It's written in a style you won't find today, but don't let that stop you)
'It was a quiet night in SE23. The LAPD (Lewisham Area Police Department)were casually listening to Fivelive and commenting on how long Dowie had a job for, back at the station. Then came the call:
Body found in Horniman Gardens. Young male seen running from the scene of the crime. Approximate age: 25. Distinctive marks: Blonde hair. White top and jeans. Seen running towards Dartmouth Road.
DC Mackay was first on his feet, swearing loudly with words forbidden by the Webmaster. A brute of a man, yet only 26, Mackay was old enough to have told McCarthy where to stuff it at schoolboy level.
Who's with me? he shouted, running for the car.
( all welcome.........each follows the other )
|Posted on Tuesday, 31 October, 2006 - 10:28 am: |
A gruesome murder in the glorious realm of UDB?
Surely this must have been committed by an intruder from a less salubrious area on the wrong side of the railway tracks.
|Posted on Tuesday, 31 October, 2006 - 11:07 am: |
Possibly why the suspect was seen running towards Dartmouth Road, towards the other side of the tracks. But I wouldn't want to put words in anyone's mouth.
C'mon then. Let's be having the next installment.
|Posted on Tuesday, 31 October, 2006 - 01:07 pm: |
Oh, okay then.......you've twisted my arm. Following on from Sherwood's post:
Two respectable brunettes, Miss Barbara Hollis and Miss Chela Mae Laverne, were standing at the busstop opposite The Capitol,waiting for the bus home. The girls had had a busy day in the office and had enjoyed a quiet babysham before taking a tour of the old gem.
'It's such a beautiful, old building' said Barbara. ' They ought to turn it back into a cinema showing all the old classics like Sunset Boulevard, Gone With The Wind, hell even The Lost Weekend wouldn't go amiss, what with it being a loungebar now and all.'
' I quite agree, Barbara' said Miss Laverne, swaying gently back and forth on her heels in the warm evening air. However, it was not the babysham which made Miss Chela Mae Laverne hit the deck a moment later.
Officer Mackay was on the scene in minutes.
' Well, Officer.' Barbara recalled. ' It all happened so suddenly. He was kind of young, blonde, wearing a white sweatshirt. We thought he was a bagsnatcher at first.'
Chela composed herself.
' All I can say Officer is that that boy looked like he came from the WRONG SIDE OF THE TRACKS!!
Officer Mackay thanked the young ladies, put his pen back into his breastpocket and charged back up the hill.
|Posted on Tuesday, 31 October, 2006 - 03:00 pm: |
Mackay was fit, he scaled the fence with a single leap. The last scents of summer perfumed the air and in his stream of conciousness flow bizarrely came the words of Stardust:
And now the purple dusk of twilight time
Steals across the meadows of my heart
High up in the sky the little stars climb
Always reminding me that were apart
You wander down the lane and far away
Leaving me a song that will not die
Love is now the stardust
Of the years
Sometimes I wonder why I spend
The lonely nights
Dreaming of a song.
The melody haunts my reverie
And I am once again with you.
When our love was new, and each kiss an inspiration.
But that was long ago, and now my consolation
Is in the stardust of a song.
Beside the garden wall, when stars are bright
You are in my arms
The nightingale tells his fairy tale
Of paradise where roses grew.
Though I dream in vain, in my heart you will remain
My stardust melody
The memory of loves refrain.
Mackay reached the murder scene, breathless. It wasn't a woman. It was a middle aded man, white, slaked out on the lawn with a single knife wound on his cinnamon shirt. Flashlights in the flowers.There was no sign of struggle. The pockets were empty. He looks like Humphrey Bogart, thought Mackay, but he said nothing. Casual words. False leads.
A dirty, dangerous criminal was on the loose.
|Posted on Tuesday, 31 October, 2006 - 03:40 pm: |
Suddenly, there was a rumbling explosion that flung Mackay to the ground as he was consumed by a dazzling white light. Shielding his eyes, he looked up to see... no... it couldn't be... the Horniman totem pole, a blaze of flame jetting from underneath it climbing into the night sky. Struggling to his feet, Mackay started to walk up the hill towards the museum as people opened their doors and windows looking up at the sky in quiet bemusement. "Surely those rumours about the sundials being an alien landing site can't be true", thought Mackay. Suddenly, a hand shot out from behind the wooden fascia at the old disused McDonalds, pulling Mackay in. A hairy hand is clamped over his mouth, preventing him from speaking. A voice growls quietly in his ear, "I'm going to let you go. Turn around and don't say a word. There's a secret you need to know. I'm about to tell you something that will change the path of SE23 forever." Slowly, Mackay turned around to find himself face-to-face with a giant moth eaten Polar bear...
|Posted on Tuesday, 31 October, 2006 - 03:51 pm: |
C'mon, I'm not writing the whole thing myself.
The victim: white male in his forties, well dressed.
Location: The African Garden, Horniman Gardens.
Suspect: white male, early to mid twenties, blonde, white sweatshirt and jeans, seen running towards Dartmouth Road. 'Looked like he came from the wrong side of the tracks,'a witness said.
Cause of muder: single knifewound
Known witnesses: Three. An old boy walking his dog who saw the suspect run from the gardens, falling as he hit the street and two women at the busstop opposite The Capitol, London Road, one of whom was felled by the assailant running away.
Clues found at scene: none
|Posted on Tuesday, 31 October, 2006 - 03:58 pm: |
Inspector Morse always starts an investigation by downing a pint (or more) of beer in a local pub.
So which pub shall we visit in our search for the criminal?
|Posted on Tuesday, 31 October, 2006 - 04:10 pm: |
Good work, Deanos.
Mackay was back at the office in a flash, checking up on stuffed polar bears. Why? He could not say, but it had to be done.
Meanwhile the local press had got word. And in the 10pm news, a broadcast went out. Soon Se23 was jiving to the beat of the anonymous murder. All sorts of creeps came out the woodwork. A half-blind widow of a chap who fell from the roof of The Capitol and was said to haunt it, Ms Delilah Moore,76, was enjoying a leisurely vanilla and kirsh milkshake in her villa next door, when suddenly Mindy her cat's ears pricked up. Ms Moore went to the window, her pearls dangling heavily around her neck. She saw nothing, but remembered a young black fellow who had done her plumbing and always wore a white sweatshirt, some two years ago. Another young punk, high on hops, said it was gangland and the killer was untouchable. Stranger still, another young man suggested contacting the museum and putting the body in formaldehyde, to replace the missing bear. All the while, Mackay kept his composure. 'Be a good cop, his dying father had told him. Do the right thing and be as good as you can.'
|Posted on Tuesday, 31 October, 2006 - 05:13 pm: |
The victim was Hilltopgeneral and he was done in by a resident of the People's Republic of Southern Forest Hill after making one too many jibes about West Catford.
|Posted on Tuesday, 31 October, 2006 - 05:26 pm: |
East Forest Hill, I think.
We eastenders are an unsavoury bunch. But to stoop to murder? Surely not.
|Posted on Tuesday, 31 October, 2006 - 06:57 pm: |
'Hilltop General ?', spat mackay. 'Who would call himself such a name ? Run a file check on him, Lister.'
Sometime later, after checking the ISP, word came back: it's some late forties half ass up the hill, Lister, Mackay shouted( his words, not mine). We're looking for a kid, dammit.
Mackay did something he'd never done before.
He spat on the floor, before wiping the sweat from his brow.
|Posted on Tuesday, 31 October, 2006 - 08:59 pm: |
Fortunately I have an alibi.
Err. When did the crime take place?
|Posted on Tuesday, 31 October, 2006 - 09:26 pm: |
That DC Mackay is always hassling us east Forest Hill dwellers.
Just because we got form.
Anyway. I got an alibi.
Just ask Dave at the Winchester Club. Tell him when the crime took place and he will confirm that I was there all night - or was it all day?
|Posted on Tuesday, 31 October, 2006 - 10:37 pm: |
Anyone want to buy a sign?
It fell off the back of a lorry.
|Posted on Thursday, 16 November, 2006 - 12:42 am: |
The profiling report arrived. It proved that the victim could not be Hilltop General. His anatomy and physiology suggested he could be well above forty but anagraphically he simply wasn t. Damn !! And God forbid he could be found dead or alive in the African Garden, Lister mumbled whilst still staring at the report. The People's Republic of Southern Forest Hill would be disappointed to learn this new evidence. Better still they all knew that contract killing was a possibility in the "lively side of the tracks". Just the thought of this politically correct expression and he was laughing out loud. But he would not be caught again using any pejorative words whilst referring to this part of the town. His career was at a turning point. This could be it. The People's Republic of Southern Forest Hill would have to find out where Hilltop General was now hiding. Some very astute members of the Republic had already found his new re-incarnation on the forum. They were closing in. Lister would have to talk to Mackay quickly. He knew he would be working over time this Christmas, again.
|Posted on Friday, 01 December, 2006 - 09:54 am: |
Chaz, Deanos, everybody, please continue. Did I kill your story ????????????????
|Posted on Friday, 01 December, 2006 - 10:22 am: |
Hilltopgeneral's name had come up, so Hilltop would have to be interviewed. Things were getting sticky, now. The People's Republic, who could well be hiding the perp, were the only ones who could give up Hilltop and his cover.
Lister & Mackay ducked into an interview room and consulted briefly. They'd work the other angles first, but there were so many. Join the Winchester Club & sniff around the bar for Sherwood and his cronies? Maybe they should check with the FHS. Those people seemed to have their fingers on the pulse around these parts.
There was muffled excitement on the other side of the door. Opening it cautiously, the officers saw a small throng gathered around a large dog in a Santa hat. 'Found him going through the rubbish bins outside the All Inn One, sir' said a younger member of the squad. He held up a stained man's wallet. 'Had this in his mouth. I was just about to send it to Forensics.'