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Night Owl Poetry – Dorinda Duclos

~ "The silence of the night awakens my soul"

Night Owl Poetry – Dorinda Duclos

Tag Archives: detective

One Town Over – #poetry – #AprilWriting

07 Sunday Apr 2019

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in April Writing, Poems, Poetry

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

#AprilWriting, #poetry, detective, dorindaduclos.com, fugitive, gun, knife, murder, Night Owl Poetry, noose, poems, police, weapons, writing, writing prompt


Too many weapons left behind
To figure out who did the deed
A detective was handed the case
Hoped he’d have all he’d need

Evidence, placed upon his desk
A knife, a noose and a gun
Not really knowing where to begin
He knew this wouldn’t be fun

Taking out his trusty magnifier
He checked the weapons, again
Finding only one little clue
The evidence, was surely plain

When finally reaching a conclusion
He presented his case to the chief
Shaking his head at the detective
He stood there, in disbelief

How could this possibly be? he asked
Which one of the weapons matched?
Twas a fingerprint, upon the gun
To a certain someone, attached

Seems Chief has been up to no good
Got caught with the new recruit
The misses found out, set him up
Then quickly, gave him the boot

Now the chief’s in the slammer
No longer is he the top cop
As for the real murder weapon
One town over, at the old pawnshop

 

April Writing Prompts – A fugitive on the loose, where’s the noose? – Day 7/30

©2019 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0

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Finish the Story – #11 ~ #CreativeWriting

07 Sunday Oct 2018

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in Finish the Story, Writing Challenge

≈ 16 Comments

Tags

#11, #FinishtheStory, continuation, detective, dorindaduclos.com, Eric, Lydia, Night Owl Poetry, Tag you're it!, The Haunted Wordsmith, writing

Welcome to Finish the Story

The Haunted Wordsmith starts a story, tags someone to pick up the story and add to it, then they hand it off to another person, etc., until the story is complete. This has proven to be quite fun in a blogging situation since we all have different approaches.

Rules–

1 Copy the story below as it appears when you receive it (and the rules please)

2 Add somehow to the story in which ever style and length you choose

3 Tag only 1 person

4 If you choose to not participate or finish the story, please comment/tag this post so that The Haunted Wordsmith knows.

The Private Detective

One of the first lessons Eric learned the hard way after leaving the force and going into business for himself was to never ask the client why they wanted his services. The less he knew, the better it was for everyone. Something about this case, and the creepy man who hired him last week, just didn’t sit right though.

As he sat in the old blue Buick flipping through his notes, he saw her coming down the step of the opera house. He snuffed out his fifth camel and started the car. She was all dolled up in a victorian get up. Looked like something out of an H.G. Wells movie. Eric watched as she crossed the street, entered the park, and hailed a carriage.

“Shit!” He couldn’t follow her in the car through the park.

The carriage turned the corner and …

A Guy Called Bloke

… and disappeared from his view!

“Buggerations!” Eric snorted as he quickly got out of the car and hop, skipped and jumped his way across the street into the park. He could just see the end of the carriage as it made its way merrily across the lawn tracks!

As Eric chuffed along behind the carriage, he was becoming more and more startled as he saw smoke billowing from the top of the carriages’ roof, “What on earth?” Eric thought.

After only a few minutes, the carriage came to a standstill beside the fountain of Silver Waters, and she stepped out. Eric quickly hid behind a man selling balloons! He saw her talk to the driver, who doffed his hat and moved the carriage forwards by fifty or so feet before coming to a standstill again.

He watched Vicky [he had called her this because of the garb she had been wearing when he first caught sight of her. He didn’t know her name, Mr Creepy hadn’t passed on that nugget of information, so Vicky would have to do for the time being] walk up to the fountain, and as she approached from within her bulky skirts she withdrew a large bottle of something. The contents he could see were bright green almost luminous!?

“What on earth??” Eric gasped!

Vicky stopped in front of the fountain of Silver Waters and seemed to be speaking to the statue on the top, a funny looking gargoyle [l know, who would have thunk it?] and as she did so, the statue moved and so spake back in a kind of sing song accent and turned and looked at the balloon seller – who was already becoming quite twitchy as he didn’t usually have another man quite this close to him when hiding!

Suddenly the balloon seller disappeared in a plume of green smoke with silvery tinges and Eric saw the balloons take flight to the skies!

“Blimey! That’s burst my bubble of disguise!” Eric thought, “Now what?”

Meanwhile Vicky and the gargoyle were looking directly at Eric and seemed to be speaking in the language of the elephant shrew [Eric knew this as his Son was studying the very same language in the elephant shrew school – l know how freaky as a coincidence is that?] As Eric tried to look as inconspicuous as possible which was somewhat difficult in his bright yellow zoot suit, Vicky and the gargoyle were speaking rather fast now and as they were doing so, the air around them cracked, and groaned, and creaked – yes creaked! The more Eric looked the more he could see wrinkles appearing before his eyes, the air seemed to be visible, the atmosphere was heavy, was that a portal opening, and was that another Vicky stepping out, was that another Vicky stepping out, was that another Vicky stepping out?

Eric closed his eyes for a moment thinking alternative reality and feeling somewhat faint and when he opened them again …

… he sat on his old Harley flipping through his ipad, he saw her coming down the step of the museum. He snuffed out his twenty second Marlboro and started the Harley. She was all dolled up in a Gothic get up. Looked like something out of an old, well Gothic movie. Eric watched as she crossed the street, entered the zoo, and hailed a camel.

“Chocolate Smarty Cake!” He couldn’t follow her on the bike through the zoo.

The camel turned the corner and Eric thought, Thunder Pants and then he ….

The Britchy One

…..started to feel very giddy. What was going on? He was uncoordinated, disorientated and sank slowly to his knees as he lost consciousness.

He woke with an IV in his arm Ina hospital bed. A nurse was busy with a chart and it took her a minute to realise he was awake.

“Welcome back! You had us all worried for a bit there!” She chirruped. “What happened?” asked Eric “I’ll see if the doctors here to see you” she replied, neatly avoiding his question as she sashayed out of the room. Eric noticed wryly that her scrubs fit in all the right places – obviously he wasn’t too out of it!

He looked around, bored. The room was a bland, beige, instantly forgettable room with a stunning view of a solid brick wall six feet away. If you weren’t sick before you would be after a couple of hours here he thought.

There was a peremptory knock on the door. Before Eric could respond and officious looking man in a bespoke suit walked in. His shoes looked expensive. Handmade burnished Italian leather glowing as only shoes polished by a valet could. His apparel and demeanour screamed upper class like the foghorn on a cross channel ferry.

“So you’re awake” he barked in a short staccato burst of verbal gunfire. “Do you know who you are?” “Yes of course I do”said Eric giving his full name “Why am I here and where are my clothes?”.

“All in good time my man, you were brought in without any identification two days ago. You were dehydrated and had concussion. Let’s get some details shall we? He proceeded to ask Eric’s full address, profession and if he knew what day of the week it was, what year it was and other questions Eric presumed were to assess his cognition. “What happened do you remember?” the man concluded.

Eric’s Mind was a blur. Full of bizarre dreams – or were they?

“I don’t really know” he admitted. “Do you know why you were in the park?” I was following someone on orders from a client.”

The man leaned forward quivering “Ahh and what do you know of this client? he purred.

Just as Eric was about to answer there was a knock at the door. A short tired looking Indian man shuffled in. “Hello I’m sorry to keep you waiting. I’m Doctor Raina”

Wait! exclaimed Eric turning to look at the first man “If this is the doctor then who are you?”….

Mel Gutiér

Just at that moment, everything froze around Eric except for the elegant stranger who seemed familiar to him now. Eric’s mouth opened wide.

“I’m the Time Keeper. You have something of mine. Do you remember what it is? You’ve been jumping from time to time, wandering. It will take you some time, but you’ll remember.”

“What are you talking about? How are you doing all this?”

“Damn! You’ve gone in too deep. I tried explaining it to you. You didn’t give me enough time. You just had to run after her, didn’t you? They’re going to kill you if they find you, you know that?”

“Time Keeper?”

“Eric… you don’t remember the vault? You don’t remember the lock breaking and Lydia disappearing? You don’t remember taking the compass from my office? Eric… you’re in danger and I need the compass back to find Lydia.”

“Stop! You’re a mad man! You’re the devil!”

“You don’t even remember my name, do you?”

“Fuck you!”

Lost and confused, Eric got out of the bed, pushed the stranger aside running out of the room. He became dizzy as he tried walking passed the still figures in the hallway. Indeed, time had stopped somehow. Everyone in the hospital had stopped in their place, their space. The elegant stranger ran after Eric hopeful that he would wake up to full memory. He needed that compass.

“Eric!”

“Leave me alone! I don’t know anything about a compass!”

“I can help you! Just stop for a moment! Let me help you!”

Eric ran outside and stopped in his tracks. He was stupefied. The air seemed to be missing and nothing was moving. Birds locked in midair, sound in a vacuum, a single leaf traveling to the ground was floating still before him. All living things stood motionless before him, as if wax figures stood in their place. Even the motionless buildings looked different, shifted somehow and he noticed a curtain in one of the houses stopped outside its window as if held out by an invisible string, the dead wind. How was this possible? Somewhere in his head a familiar connection began to emerge. He knew something about this magic, but it was still a blur.

“I’m Logan. I’m your Time Keeper. You’re a time traveler. We try to set things right in the world.”

The elegant stranger, a stranger no more, put his hand on Eric’s shoulder. Eric’s breath was heavy, and his mind was racing in the still of time. Something began to stir in him as he turned to look at Logan. His breath grew stronger and he broke down in tears.

“Lydia!” He gasped.

“Yes! You’re remembering! It’s okay… it takes time. You’ve been through a lot. You’ve traveled for months looking for her, chasing the wrong woman. I had to get you to stop somehow. This was the only way.”

“What?”

“The institution, the visions. The client.”

“The client… he has your compass.”

“No! What did you do?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know. Oh God!”

“That was no client, Eric! Do you realize what they’re capable of doing with that compass! If they have Lydia, if they touch her… Eric! You have to remember where that client is. We have to get that compass back!”

Eric looked at Logan, took one last breath and disappeared. Logan fell to his knees as everything came back to normal. Movement… time resumed, but Eric was gone… again.

Michael @ Afterwards

Eric watched the tea lap against the edge of the mug as he dropped in another cube of sugar with a reassuring ‘plink’. His mother had always said what when in doubt sit down and have some tea, preferably in a cup and saucer, and it will help to put things into perspective.

Unfortunately the diner didn’t have any saucers, or decent china cups for that matter, so he settled for a plain white mug of something approaching a loose description of tea and some silent introspection.

A large breasted, friendly faced waitress walked over and asked him if he was ready to order. Eric shook his head.

“No thanks, just the tea will be fine thank you.”

“Suit yourself darlin, you let me know if you change your mind now’” she said with a wink and a smile and sauntered back over to the long counter that ran the length of the room. He continued to watch as she took a pot of coffee and filled a cup for herself.

Returning to his thoughts Eric took a sip of his tea and considered recent events, not least how he had ended up in the diner, fully clothed and with a pocket full of cash. As diners do it was a nice enough place, stereotypically so in fact with just the right amount of plaid shirted trucker looking types, chequer board flooring and a good selection of pies.

He searched his memories but could not remember how he had got here. Staring out of the large window into the half full car park beyond he stirred the tea again, allowing fragments of memories to come back to him. The spoon swirled through the hot dark liquid as mysterious strangers compelled him, gaping hospital gowns left him feeling rather exposed and the smoking of rather a lot of cigarettes left him feeling that perhaps some life changes might well be in order.

The memories were jumbled and overlapping, nothing seemed to be in the right place and everything seemed to contradict itself. There was also a most uncomfortable feeling that he had lost something and really needed to find it.

He looked up as the waitress walked past again and smiled. He smiled back and noticed her name badge.

‘Lydia’. Nice name he thought…

Dorinda @ Night Owl Poetry

Staring back into his tea, Eric realized her name sounded somewhat familiar but he couldn’t quite place where he had met her.

“Lydia” he thought. “I know that name, don’t I?”

Curiosity got the better of him, and he called the waitress over to ask. Watching her sashay, hips moving in a rhythmic dance, Eric was a bit mesmerized by her. She watched as his eyes glazed over, then brought him back to reality. Moving in closer, leaning down across the table, she smiled and asked him what it was he really wanted. Eric smiled back before he came to his senses (whatever they are) and abruptly stood up, threw some cash on the table and made a beeline for the door.

Outside, he could feel the beads of sweat rippling down his neck. Wishing he had a napkin or handkerchief to dry himself off, he turned to look at the diner. No way in hell was he going back in there. He’d deal with the sweat the best way he could. He picked up his pace along the cobblestone street, and thought to himself “since when does New Jersey have streets like this?” Looking around, nothing seemed familiar at all. Where was he and why was he here?

Scenes kept playing in his head. He saw an office, a woman, smoke, statues, balloons floating into nowhere, a nurse and finally, a waitress, who he seemed to think wanted more than to just take his order. Sensing he was losing his direction, something, a vision, came to him, something round, with an arrow and letters. What could it be, he wondered. He tried his best to bring it to life but it kept fading into a blur. Suddenly, he remembered what it was, and just as he was about to write it down (lest he forget again), everything turned to black (damn, again?).

Finally waking up in a dark alley, Eric found a woman standing over him, mouthing something he couldn’t quite understand. It was then he realized that…

Tagging Michelle @ Her Writing Haven

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Inky Adventures ~ On the trail of a mastermind – #JulyWriting

31 Tuesday Jul 2018

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in July Writing, short story

≈ 22 Comments

Tags

#JulyWriting, army, arrested, arsonist, Australia, Auti, book, Brian, candles, car, Charles, cobblestones, crime solving, dark, detective, dinner, doors, doorway, dorindaduclos.com, drums, eruptions, fire, game, gas, jiggled, joggled, magic, Michael, mind games, Night Owl Poetry, Penelope, persnickety, plane, powerful, Putting My Feet in the Dirt, riddle, Sarah C, schemes, sleeping powder, The Tenneesee Poet, tunnel, Walt, windows, words, writing, writing prompt, ~M

Join me every day at Noon EST for the continuing adventures of the bungling detective, N. Owl, in her quest to bring the mastermind, ~M, to justice!  If you’ve  missed any episodes, you can find them HERE!


After all this, enough was enough
The case had been extremely tough
I needed to take a vacation
Far away from the station
Somewhere that wasn’t so rough

~M was gone now, the case had been closed
They didn’t need us, so I left, unopposed
Packed my bags in my trunk
To get away from this funk
But whereto, I would leave, undisclosed

Far away, from the city and grime
Of having to fight all this crime
Had enough of the dirt
And that lemon dessert
Need to just relax for some time

Managed to survive Fred and Cory
And Mildred, well she’s another story
Then there’s Walt with the flame
That’s the name of his game
Now, cooking things in his own laboratory

Penelope, thank God, flew back to Perth
Michael has finally gotten rid of his girth
Swore off lemons for life
Gave them all to his wife
No longer looks like he’s about to give birth

Sarah’s back at the office, what a gal
She’s really become quite a pal
Saved me from those awful chains
By simply throwing her planes
Take her with me, on vacation, I shall

As for ~M and her girls, they disappeared
When the time for their trials had neared
Left a note, an inky indenture
“See you soon, on our next adventure!”
Three masterminds on the loose, oh dear!

And so ends this case, rather grand
Though nothing went as we planned
Still, there may come a day
But now, there’s nothing more to say
Let me be, with my feet in the sand

 

I hope you’ve enjoyed reading this as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it. Until next time, this is N. Owl, signing off   🙂

 

July Writing Prompt – Inky Adventures – Day 31/31 – The entire 31 days can be found HERE

©2018 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0

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Death Dangled ~ On the trail of a mastermind – #JulyWriting

30 Monday Jul 2018

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in July Writing, short story

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

#JulyWriting, army, arrested, arsonist, Australia, Auti, book, Brian, candles, car, Charles, cobblestones, crime solving, dark, detective, dinner, doors, doorway, dorindaduclos.com, drums, eruptions, fire, game, gas, jiggled, joggled, magic, Michael, mind games, Night Owl Poetry, Penelope, persnickety, plane, powerful, Putting My Feet in the Dirt, riddle, Sarah C, schemes, sleeping powder, The Tenneesee Poet, tunnel, Walt, windows, words, writing, writing prompt, ~M

Join me every day at Noon EST for the continuing adventures of the bungling detective, N. Owl, in her quest to bring the mastermind, ~M, to justice!  If you’ve  missed any episodes, you can find them HERE!


Making my getaway only proved more of hazard than a Godsend. Walt floored the gas pedal to get us away from there as fast as possible. I think I left my stomach about a mile or so back. Actually, it felt more like death dangling in front of me. It didn’t matter, though. The police were coming up fast, siren’s getting louder as they gained on us. Making a sharp turn, Walt pulled in to a parking garage, turned off the car, and we ducked out of sight. The cars whizzed right by us. Pfft, dopes.

Catching my breath, I thanked Walt for his bravery, and said we should split up. This way, even if they did catch up to us, we wouldn’t both be thrown in jail. I had had enough of it already, and didn’t want a repeat performance. Looking around, I exited the car and began walking. I had no idea where I was heading, until I found myself smack in front of ~M’s house. I’ll never learn.

Looking up, I could see a young girl’s head peeking through the curtain. I was guessing it was ~M’s littlest one. I had seen her by the window before. I had to be on the lookout for her older daughter. If one was in the house, the other was out, and that made me nervous. And where was ~M? I continued walking, hoping the little girl didn’t see me. Silly me. These were ~M’s girls. Of course she saw me. Not to mention I was the only one on the street.

I threw my hands up in the air, as if in defeat, and smiled. The front door opened, and the youngest made her way down the path. I waited until she got close enough to me, and then put my hand up to stop her. She did, with a very quizzical look on her face. There was no denying she was ~M’s. I imagined it was how ~M looked at this age. An ever scheming mind hidden in a veil of innocence.

“Where’s your mother?” I asked.

“She’s not home” she replied. “She’s out with my sister. You can wait inside if you like.”

I wasn’t falling for that. I shook my head no, and proceeded, “I know you know who I am, and that I’ve been after your mom for some time now.” She nodded. “But I need to find her and bring her to justice. She can’t keep getting away with these challenges of hers. It’s causing perpetual pandemonium! And those poor pigeons. They’ve be deplumed! (Is that a word?). I’ve been down cobblestone passages, gotten stuck in a parade, dealt with a firebug, lost track of time, had to move mutts and a pesky milkman, and deal with a food fight consisting of lemon mush! I’m exhausted. Please, ask her to come out.”

The little girl looked amused, turned on her heels and went back into the house. It felt like an eternity had passed and still no sign of ~M. I imagined the three of them were in there, laughing away. And I wouldn’t blame them. They had outsmarted my crew and me over and over again. The only thing left was to plead my case and hope for the best. I didn’t get it. A loud roar from the back of the house indicated something was happening. Suddenly, a helicopter was hovering above me, with no other than ~M at the controls. Damn, she’s a pilot, too? That was the end. They waved goodbye and the bird was gone in a whoosh, and a crap load of dirt, flying everywhere, that sent me toppling backwards and plum on my ass. Serves me right.

I picked myself up, booked my flight home and waited for the bashing of a lifetime. I figured my days at the bureau were over. And once again, I was wrong. Chief was waiting for me when I landed, congratulated me for making it back alive, and said “see ya in the morning.” Apparently, other agents hadn’t been so lucky. Even though I had failed the task put before me, he didn’t let me go. Breathing in a welcome breath of air, and sneezing my brains out (I’ll never learn), I headed home. By this time, I realized I was really pooped from all the running around. I chased after a woman who had no intentions of ever being caught. Still…

~M was good, but not that good. Even though she took off with the girls, she left behind the one thing she was never without. Her plume. I knew she’d be back for it, and I’d be waiting for her, but this time, on my turf.

 

Stay tuned for one more day from this crime solving wordsmith…

 

July Writing Prompt – Death Dangled – Day 30/31

©2018 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0

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She Wore a Red Dress ~ On the trail of a mastermind – #JulyWriting

29 Sunday Jul 2018

Posted by Dorinda Duclos in July Writing, short story

≈ 13 Comments

Tags

#JulyWriting, army, arrested, arsonist, Australia, Auti, book, Brian, candles, car, Charles, cobblestones, crime solving, dark, detective, dinner, doors, doorway, dorindaduclos.com, drums, eruptions, fire, game, gas, jiggled, joggled, magic, Michael, mind games, Night Owl Poetry, paper airplanes, Penelope, persnickety, plane, powerful, Putting My Feet in the Dirt, red dress, riddle, Sarah C, schemes, sleeping powder, The Tenneesee Poet, tunnel, Walt, windows, words, writing, writing prompt, ~M

Join me every day at Noon EST for the continuing adventures of the bungling detective, N. Owl, in her quest to bring the mastermind, ~M, to justice!  If you’ve  missed any episodes, you can find them HERE!


Having gone through central booking, being fingerprinted, and tossed in a cell with all the other low life’s, I was finally called in front of the judge. I couldn’t wait to hear what the prosecutor would have to say about this crazy accusation. I had showed them my credentials, but since we were so covert, they looked at me like I was insane, and tossed me in jail, anyway.

I walked into the court room and stopped short. There she was, in a red dress, legs crossed and smiling in my direction. ~M! She had a wig on, but I knew it was her. She disguised herself as the prosecutor. Lord only knows what happened to the real one. I didn’t even want to think about it, knowing what had happened to Walt. I had no choice but to go with a public defender since I had no means of hiring another. Come to think of it, I didn’t even get my one phone call!! What an amazing set up. What a mastermind. After weeks of trying to put ~M away, she turned the tables on me. Seems my days as a free woman were numbered.

She presented her case to the judge, who kept a watchful eye on her legs. I couldn’t help thinking he wasn’t even paying attention to what she was saying. I didn’t stand a chance of getting the charges dropped. I needed a miracle, and fast. I shifted in my chair, and that drew the judge’s attention, if only for a brief moment. But long enough for someone to enter the back of the court room without being noticed. I noticed. It was Sarah C. I hadn’t seen her in years, only heard she had been in on the case earlier, with Walt. I waited, impatiently, to see what she was going to do.

By now, the judge was practically drooling all over himself. Seriously? My life was on the line here, hellloooo!!! Suddenly. Something whizzed by my head. And another. I ducked, not wanting to know what it was, only to avoid being killed, if it was a bullet. Then I saw. I had to laugh, but stifled myself. One by one, paper airplanes were flying about the court room. Now I remembered. Sarah C was notorious for distractions. Whenever someone needed one, they called her. Pretty soon, paper was flying all over the place. Some were even decorated. I think Sarah C has too much time on her hands.

This caused quite the commotion, people swatting at these planes, some getting nailed in the head. I imagine she had weighted the noses with something to make them fly better. Then I saw her from the corner of my eye, motion to me to run. She was giving me the chance to escape while everyone else was distracted! I made my way to the back of the court and high-tailed it out the doors. No one saw me leave, not even ~M, who seemed to be more worried about herself than anything else. The judge was hiding behind the bench. It was comical, like a Keystone Cops adventure.

Once I made it safely to the parking lot, Walt was there to pick me up. Seems he called in Sarah C to “bail” me out. We were even. We saved each other from the clutches of ~M. Now it was time to finally put her away for good.

 

Stay tuned for more from this crime solving wordsmith…

 

July Writing Prompt – She wore a red dress – Day 29/31

©2018 Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved
Photo via Pixabay CC0

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