Thriller : The Killer - Post modernism: (Mystery, Suspense, Thriller, Suspense Crime Thriller, Murder) (ADDITIONAL BOOK INCLUDED ) (Suspense Thriller Mystery, Serial Killer, crime)
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Mystery:
The Killer:
Post Modernism
Matt Troy
7
Copyright © 2016 Matt Troy
All rights reserved.
Table Of Content
Copyright
Summary
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter3
Free Book
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Copyright 2016
All Right Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Summary
We marched through the house like the proverbial hurricane, gathering up Matt and Keiran on our way upstairs and then piling into Carly's room to hear Kate's dire discoveries. Carly seemed to be lacking slightly in the whole psychic twin link thing as when we barged on in she was sprawled on her bed watching mushy romantic movies while wearing a deep blue face mask. I know an opportunity for revenge when I see one. Not even bothering to hide the triumphant smirk on my face, I sauntered casually over to the television. "We have got to get you back home," I said in a grave tone. "Look at you, watching teenage romantic comedies. If we leave you here much longer you'll end up joining the fucking cheerleading squad." I felt a growl building in the back of my throat, but the person who waded in to stop the impending fight was neither Matt nor Kate, our usual peacemakers.
Post-Modernism
Chapter 1
We made our way back to the house slowly, each consumed with our own thoughts. Kate was no doubt trying to think a way out of the mess I had got myself into, but my thoughts were going down a different track. Kate had managed to shoot down and discard the one fact that could have persuaded my friends to look a bit further a field than Callum when it came to people capable of killing William. I tried to think of some alternate line of reasoning to the one I had previously tried, but my brain kept shutting down at the thought of Callum and the way his lips had felt as they brushed my own. It had been so sweet and soft, a million miles from what I would have expected the guy to kiss like. But I didn't think snogging technique was going to go down well with my friends as evidence for the defence.
"Blake?" Kate called, breaking into my thoughts and making me come very close to blushing. Again. As if I hadn't embarrassed myself in front of my friends enough today. I looked over at her and frowned slightly at her worried expression.
"What is it?" I asked. "You look like you've just worked out Anakin Skywalker has to become Darth Vader in order for Star Wars to work."
"I've just thought of something," Kate admitted. "And it's probably totally whacked out, but it's really starting to bug me."
My frown deepened in concern. "What? Tell me and I promise to let you know if it's full of crap."
Kate bit her lip and shook her head briefly. "No. I think this is something we need to discuss with the others. If I'm right, and that is a huge, colossal if, then we are in deeper shit than we thought."
I sighed. "Way to go Kate. Now I'm more reassured than ever."
Kate was too wrapped up in her thoughts to give me her usual glare for that remark. I quickened my pace as we headed back to the house. Damn, the bitch was starting to creep me out too.
We marched through the house like the proverbial hurricane, gathering up Matt and Keiran on our way upstairs and then piling into Carly's room to hear Kate's dire discoveries. Carly seemed to be lacking slightly in the whole psychic twin link thing as when we barged on in she was sprawled on her bed watching mushy romantic movies while wearing a deep blue face mask.
I know an opportunity for revenge when I see one. Not even bothering to hide the triumphant smirk on my face, I sauntered casually over to the television. "We have got to get you back home," I said in a grave tone. "Look at you, watching teenage romantic comedies. If we leave you here much longer you'll end up joining the fucking cheerleading squad."
Carly was not amused. "First I'd have to remove the baton from your arse," she countered. "Unless Callum's already obliged?"
I felt a growl building in the back of my throat, but the person who waded in to stop the impending fight was neither Matt nor Kate, our usual peacemakers. With a look cold enough to freeze Hell, Keiran stepped between Carly and I. "The two of you are going to stop this petty bickering right now," he stated in a voice that allowed no argument. "You seem to have forgotten, but there is a person's life on the line if we fuck up. And you can argue that he isn't real, that this is just some story all you want, but stop and think for a moment. These people have their own personalities, their own lives. We might be in America, but world events seem pretty much the same. The only thing you have to indicate that this is anything other than completely real is a book which we never even finished reading and doesn't seem to have made the trip across with us.
"So I've been thinking, what if the book wasn't fiction? I'm not saying that it's a biography or anything, but what if somehow it was an attempt to stop the murder? It was supposed to give us all the facts to help us prevent the crime, but we didn't take it seriously and never finished it. Now if William dies, it'll be on our fucking conscience. We knew. And apart from the killer, we are the only ones who know."
There was silence as everyone took in Keiran's words. Then I whistled. "If you don't get an A in philosophy, it's a crime mate. And setting aside the ethical dimensions of this whole mess for when I'm stoned enough to deal with it, we've still got a killer to find. Yes, I agree that from the first two chapters we read, Callum seemed like the prime suspect. But he doesn't act like that most of the time. I really think he's been misjudged and we need to refocus the search." I paused for a moment, trying to think of some further way to convince them. "Okay, so Callum's anti-social until you get to know him. I'm not denying that. But there is a big difference between being difficult to get along with and being a killer. It's like that book Sikes made us all read. About the guy who got imprisoned and executed for not crying at his mother's funeral."
Everyone looked puzzled for a moment. Kate was the first to venture a guess as to what I was talking about. "Blake? Are you trying to bring existentialism into this? Because I still fail to see a link between Camus' 'l'Etranger' and 'The Killer Wore Black.'"
I gritted my teeth. I had deliberately tried to think of a literary example to prove my case to my bookworm friends and now they were feigning ignorance. "I refuse to believe I was the only person who got that novel," I objected. "Don't you see that the situation is exactly the same? Callum and the main character, that Mer-whatever-"
"Meursault" Kate corrected automatically.
"Whatever," I ground out. "Anyway, both these guys refuse to play by the rules society sets for them. They're not going to lie and pretend emotions to blend in and act in the way others demand. And that reason alone is enough to find them guilty."
Matt looked impressed by my speech. "Shit Blake, so you do pay attention in class after all. I guess I can stop lending you my notes."
I just gave him a pointed look in return. This was no time to be making cute remarks.
Kate cleared her throat a little and we all looked to her. "I've been thinking," sh
e began only to trail off and frown. "And I don't really know how to phrase this. I've been doing some reading today in my spare time. Mainly trying to work out how we all got here. And, well, the closest thing it seemed to come to was time travel. This isn’t good."
"Because?" Carly prompted. "I mean, even if we have skipped a little in time, it can't be much. The music and clothes and shit is all pretty much what was around in England. What difference is a couple of weeks going to make either way?"
Matt seemed to have got Kate's point, for he was looking equally solemn. I bet the guy watched way too much Star Trek when he was younger. "You mean the Prime Directive," he sighed. "Well we pretty much trounced all over that didn't we?"
I never used to watch Star Trek on account of the lack of pretty people to admire and so was still in the dark. "Eh?"
"If you travel through time, you're not supposed to do anything which could influence the outcome of events," Keiran explained. "Think of it as a 'look but don't touch' policy. And considering that from the moment we got here, we've been interfering in some sense or another, we have no idea how much we may already have altered events."
"You mean like Blake getting in touch with Callum's sensitive side?" Carly asked. "Where's the harm in that? If it makes him into a squishy little boyfriend instead of a psychotic killer, the only thing I have is say is 'no harm, no foul'. Makes our job easier."
I shook my head. "Guys, get a grip. We chose not to go with the sci-fi novel, remember? Otherwise we'd be protecting the girls from the attentions of lustful lesbian vampires. Which would probably have been a lot of fun?" Or not, I added silently. After all, Callum was in this novel. Shit, I was really in trouble here. Ignore the emotions and focus on the worried friends, Blake. Good plan, good plan. Do not think about what else you could be doing right now for instance. Involving Callum, say. And maybe ice-cream …
"Blake? Shit, he's drifted off into one of his perverted little fantasies again; you can see it in his dopey expression. Blake? Hey! We're trying to have a conversation here!"
"I don't think that's doing you much good, Keiran."
"Thank you Carly, I wasn't aware of that. What are you doing?"
"This'll work. Trust me."
"Carly? Oh god. Matt and I are not getting involved in this. Keiran; stop her."
"Stop her from doing what?"
"Argh! Jesus fucking Christ with a chainsaw!" I screamed as I was jolted back to the here and now by the highly unpleasant sensation of Carly rubbing her slimy, gunk-covered face into my suddenly bared midriff. Then she blew a raspberry for good measure and leaned back as I collapsed in a little ball. I have a really sensitive stomach. People can tickle the soles of my feet until the cows come home, but get anywhere near my stomach and I'm incapacitated. Trying to regulate my breathing, I gave Carly the most evil glare I was currently capable of. This probably wouldn’t have even scared puppies. "What did you do that for?"
Chapter 2
Carly grinned at me, wiping the last of the mud-pack off her face. "Just trying to get you to pay a bit more attention, sweetie," she said as though it were the most reasonable thing on this planet. "You can run off to your new beau once we get the whole question of our existence sorted."
I groaned. "Can't we just forget any deeper meaning in how and why we got here and just concentrate on stopping the murder? It was working pretty well until now."
Keiran didn't look convinced. "And just how are you going to help us stop the murder when you refuse to consider your boyfriend is the main suspect?"
I rose to my feet, rubbing off as much of the gloop as I could. "Look at it this way then; if Callum's hanging out with me, he's not murdering William. So your problems only begin if someone else does the deed. At which point I reserve the right to say 'I told you so' indefinitely."
Kate tilted her head to one side. "You really are convinced about this, aren't you?"
I sighed. "Look, can you guys just cross Callum off the suspect list? He'll be staying in my protective custody or whatever. You just keep an eye on William and I'll let you know if I find any evidence to prove someone else is behind it."
"And what if we find proof that Callum is going to be the killer?" Matt asked. "Will you call it off with him then, or continue to try and stop him?"
"I won't need to as that isn't going to happen," I answered. "And you guys have yet to find one conclusive bit of proof that Callum even deserves to be considered in the first place."
Kate still didn't look happy. "But what about the whole idea that maybe we shouldn't be messing around in this at all? We're basically removing the underpinning event of the whole narrative. What if everything unravels as a result and we never get home?"
Keiran shook his head. "I can sort of see what you're getting at Kate, but there is nothing to indicate that the events we are currently at the heart of, are anything other than real. Like Blake said, we decided against the sci-fi novel."
"And don't you normally get some sort of mentor figure in those kinds of plots?" Carly chipped in. "You know the irritating know-all who pops in now and then to mock the lack of progress the protagonist is making?"
"We don't need one of them, we've got you," I pointed out.
Carly threw a sour look in my direction. "Anyway, trashy novel or real life, we know there's a murder plot at the heart of these events. Let's focus on solving that and we can worry about the ethical stuff later. If some guys from the Enterprise show up and get pissy with us, we'll feign ignorance and get Blake to cry until they leave us alone."
"Excuse me?" I chipped in. "Why do I have to be the one to turn on the waterworks?"
A hand was waved dismissively in my direction. "Just get back to drooling over your new boyfriend while us adults sort out the important stuff."
I decided to play them at their own game. "Good idea. Have fun discussing quantum theory and all that shit. I'm going to drop in on Callum." Rising to my feet, I dusted myself off and winced at the unpleasant blue mess that still splattered across some parts of my stomach. "Maybe he can help me clean this up."
"It's not edible," Carly warned.
I flung my hands up in the air. "Do you have to make everything about sex?" I exclaimed in exasperation. "We haven't even kissed yet. Well … not properly."
Kate and Carly looked at each other and made 'awwww' noises. "Isn't that so cute?" Kate remarked.
"Blakey's growing up so fast!" Carly replied.
I felt the need to cut in here. "Oi, I happen to be older than both of you so less of the 'growing up' crap."
Matt sighed. "You're wasting your time there, mate. Better just head off and convince your new boyfriend that there are better ways to spend your time than killing your siblings."
"I still say it's the gold-digging fiancée," I insisted, promptly causing Kate to roll her eyes and the other three to look confused. Not bother to explain myself for a second time to what was no doubt going to be an equally unbelieving audience; I waved and sauntered out of the room. It was probably just some delayed reaction to having my stomach abused while recovering from an over-consumption of alcohol, but the organ in question was feeling a little sensitive. I decided to have a bath or something and worry about meeting up with Callum later. But just to state this very clearly right now, I did not in any way, shape or form have butterflies in my stomach. Not one. Got that? I was completely cool and in control of the whole situation between Callum and myself.
I got all the way to the bathroom before reality intruded on my delusions once again. I took one glance at myself in the mirror and the dreamy expression on my face showed me just why none of my friends were taking me seriously. There was no way I was going to convince them that I was anything but head over heels for Callum looking like that. If I wanted them to listen to my theories, I had to shape up and adopt the typical stiff upper lip. The problem with that was I didn't want to. Murder or no murder, Callum had kissed me and I wasn't going to pretend I was anything over than ecstatic about the whole situation.
And besides, I thought as the dopey look was replaced by a very predatory smirk, it gave me every excuse not to leave Callum's side. I would be keeping a very attentive eye on him.
Leaving my friends to their existential woes, I made use of my newly gained knowledge of the house and wandered down to the kitchen intending to make myself some breakfast and escape the horror of perfection that was the Norrington Morning Gathering. And anyway, the one person who I'd want to see in the morning wouldn't be there anyway.
Proving that even a hangover can't impair my directional memory, I found the kitchen with no trouble and was even able to recall the process that resulted in gorgeous, freshly brewed coffee making its way down my throat. Feeling far more active than a simple cup of caffeine could be responsible for, I decided to rummage around in the fridge and see if I had any chance of making myself something to eat.
I located some mushrooms, cheese and eggs and decided to just fry them all together and hope it turned into something vaguely edible. Finding cooking implements to let me go about this proved somewhat harder. I managed to find a frying pan and a chopping board, but could not find a knife in any of the places I considered logical. Briefly I wondered if one of my friends had cleaned out the house supplies in an effort to protect William from his nasty fate. Let's hope the killer didn't bring his own or they'd have wrecked my chances of getting breakfast for nothing.
"Morning."
I turned with a smile on my face to greet Callum, who had chosen that moment to slink into the kitchen. He hadn't gotten around to tying his hair into its usual ponytail yet and the silken strands hung haphazardly over his face. I asked myself who someone so beautiful could also look so adorable as I made my way over to him. "Hey yourself," I purred, running my hands through his hair and pushing it away from his face. "Thank you for yesterday; I had a lot of fun."