CHAPTER SIX
Clair James was a small woman, no more than five foot two or three. Her round, pleasant face was now distorted under the burden of losing her child. The once bright eyes were red from constant lack of sleep, and her hair, which fell lank around her face, had lost its blond luster.
We sat in her one bedroom unit in Corrimal street. The building was small, old and in desperate need of repair. But inside it was neat, yet somewhat second-handish, if you understand what I mean. None of the furniture was anywhere near like new, but the place was well kept, clean and tidy, yet hardly looked large enough for two.
“I-I’m sorry,” she whispered, barely discernible, nervously twisting a wedding ring, round… Continue reading Chapter Six
CHAPTER ONE.
Doctor Edmond Fitzgerald sat with his back to the wall, and watched two men outside Antonella’s Sandwich Bar. His gaze changed with a slight movement of the head, as he first observed through his glasses, then studied them over the rim of his bifocals.
“Now isn’t that a curious thing,” he muttered, more to himself than to me.
“Curious?” I answered, resting my pencil from my sketch of tall Palms and flowering bushes, encased in unsightly concrete squares the local council considered sophisticated.
He turned, smiled, and tipped his head towards the objects of his study.
“Them pair of Irish immigrants,”
I laughed. “You’re joking of course.”
“Joking did you say. Now why on earth should I joke about such a… Continue reading Chapter One