JRT Schofield
My name is James Schofield. I'm starting work on a novel and I want to use this blog to swop ideas with people about writing fiction. I will describe what I am doing and I hope that you will be interested in discussing it with me. I write in English, but you can use the Google translator to help if anything is unclear and you can submit comments in whatever language you prefer.
Jan 7, 2017
'A Hornets' Nest'
Making steps towards publishing the novel. Had a good talk with a self-publishing company in the UK to discuss my options. And I've got a title, 'A Hornets' Nest'. Thinking about that apostrophe there ...
Nov 14, 2016
Audio / Video - The Neanderthal in me
Busy weekend! Here is an audio recording of a short story I wrote about one of my interests, Neanderthals. The photo, by the way, is actually me, with my features morphed into those of a Neanderthal. This is something you can get done at the Natural History Museum in Vienna. Very good fun!
Nov 11, 2016
Video - "How companies really work"
On my Facebook page you can see a short film (4 mins 30) that I made explaining - not too seriously - my view on how companies work. I hope you enjoy it!
Dec 30, 2015
Work, work, work...
Well, little by little I inch closer to my goal. I've been doing a lot of work over the holidays tightening up the text and ironing out inconsistencies. To my horror I discovered that I'd got my time-line wrong and Celia was taking Jeremy to the Oktoberfest when it would be closed.
I've also being researching e-publishing and other such topics which I will have to get my head around soon. But the most alarming part of my research was when I realised that I'm about 20,000 words outside the standard length for this kind of novel which is ca 80,000 words!
Agh!
I need to think hard about this. Do I add in more content, or do I just decide it should be a short novel?
Some thinking necessary. Any thoughts from you welcome.
I've also being researching e-publishing and other such topics which I will have to get my head around soon. But the most alarming part of my research was when I realised that I'm about 20,000 words outside the standard length for this kind of novel which is ca 80,000 words!
Agh!
I need to think hard about this. Do I add in more content, or do I just decide it should be a short novel?
Some thinking necessary. Any thoughts from you welcome.
Nov 8, 2015
Chapter 37 - The Hunt
Beer wagon, Oktoberfest |
The story so far ... Jeremy Fisk has proved to be the keystone to the UN embargo breaking carried out by British companies during the war in Croatia. He has stolen all the evidence collected by Celia and Franz and left Celia to be killed by his accomplice, Morpheus Herman, who will make it look like a suicide.
Celia manages to take advantage of a distraction to escape from the store room at the Oktoberfest where she is being kept, but in her semi-drugged condition, will she be able to flee from Morpheus?
Chapter 37 – The hunt
“Nothing!” said Max to his father when they met at the
agreed time in front of one of the fairground
rides. They’d split up when they arrived at the Oktoberfest and searched the main
tents separately, looking for Celia.
“And she hasn’t gone back home either. I just phoned
Tante Ilse and Arnold,” said Franz. “Let’s
try the Oide Wiesn section next. Where is it exactly?”
“Under the Big Wheel. Come to think of it, it wouldn’t
be a bad place to meet somebody, it’s quieter than the main area.”
“Come on then!”
**************************************************
The cool air outside the store room was almost like a
slap in the face for Celia and increased the dizziness that the drug in her
beer had caused, making it hard to move in a straight line. Once she fell, only
the adrenaline got her up again.
She realized that the storeroom she’d been in was
somewhat away from the central area of the Wiesn and there was a stretch of
ground she had to cover before she could merge with the crowds. Even then, she
didn’t dare stop and ask just anybody for help. Morpheus would not necessarily
hold back from completing his task, just because there were people around him. She
needed the police, but they were mostly by the exits and entrances.
**************************************************
Morpheus was angry. Fooled into talking about himself
and then being caught off-guard in that way! By a woman! It was another example
of how he was falling to pieces. The drugs he took to dull the constant pain from
the cancerous clusters nesting in his chest were slowing him down mentally and
physically. Ah well, not much longer, but before he went he was going to get
this job done. He always did his job. He set off after Celia as she ran towards
the crowds.
****************************************************
Franz swore. The path towards the Big Wheel was
blocked by people waiting to see the different brewery wagons pulled by enormous
cart horses go down the main thoroughfare.
“’schuldigen …
‘schuldigen … muss durch … muss durch!”
Max pushed his way through, pulling his father after
him to the front of the crowd where their path was blocked by barriers.
“Please, let us across,” begged Max to a nearby policeman
walking down the line. “We’re looking for my mother!”
“You’ll have to wait, sonny. Won’t be long.”
**************************************************
The crowds were much denser now and Celia had to push
and barge her way forwards. People swore at her and pushed back, but she was
beyond caring. Looking over her shoulder
from time to time she could see Morpheus’s pale face bobbing along behind her,
gradually gaining ground.
*****************************************************
There she was again! He thought he’d lost her but then
Morpheus caught sight of her pink dirndl again, slightly to his right. He
followed doggedly after, ignoring the pain which had changed to sharp stabs in
his lungs, making each breath feel as if he were breathing in glass needles.
*****************************************************
The crowds clapped and cheered as the first wagon
trundled by, the huge horses tossing their heads and snorting so that their decorations
clinked and their ribbons shook. In the crowds on the other side, Franz
gradually became aware of some sort of commotion, with people shouting at
somebody as if a fight was taking place. And then he saw Celia ploughing forward,
red in the face, hair disheveled and eyes desperate. He clambered over his
barrier, ran to her side, grabbed her arms and started pulling her over towards
him.
“Hey,
was macht ihr da?”
a policeman further up the line shouted.
“Morfeus is behind me, he’s got a gun, he’s got a gun!”
Celia gabbled. She toppled over the barrier on top of Franz and they fell to
the ground. He jumped up pulling her with him, but she could only cling to his neck
as her legs gave way beneath her. He wrapped his arm around her waist and
started dragging her towards the other side, aware of police moving towards
them but also of another wagon approaching.
******************************************************
Morpheus made it over the barrier with nearly his last
strength. There they were, the two people who’d managed to destroy his friendship
with Ivan Kaiec, the only thing he had left in his life. He felt a rush of hate
so powerful it drove everything else aside. He raised his gun with a wavering
hand and squeezed the trigger at the exact moment they tripped over each other’s
feet and collapsed to the ground again. He thought for a moment he must have
hit one of them because there was a terrible scream of pain, then realized it
must have been something else, it was too loud. He moved forward to finish the
job, just as Celia and Franz started rolling towards the side. His focus was so
complete he never registered the panicked horses bolting towards him, blood from
his bullet streaming down one animal’s flank. He was knocked over and his chest
and skull crushed by iron hooves as the frantic coachman tried helplessly to get
them under control again.
******************************************************
The police, almost as terrified as the horses, dragged
Celia and Franz to their feet and started shouting. Both of them were
incoherent with shock, the wagon wheels had so nearly crushed them too. It was only Max who was able to explain to
the police what had been happening.
“The airport, Max!” said Celia eventually. “Fisk has
got all the material, they mustn’t let him get away!” Then she felt dizzy again
and collapsed for the last time that day.
Nov 6, 2015
Chapter 36 - Finding Celia
Oide Wies'n |
The story so far ... Celia meets up with Jeremy Fisk at the Oktoberfest and shows him the material she and Franz have collected concerning Ned's investigations into the British government's involvement in arms smuggling to Croatia during the independence war in '94-95. Jeremy tells her he has somebody who will publish her claims and they arrange to go to meet him. As Celia stands up she feels very dizzy and confused and Jeremy is able to take her with no resistance to a small storeroom where they are joined by Morpheus Herman. But what is Jeremy's connection with Morpheus?
Chapter 36 – Finding Celia
It was Max who guessed that Celia had gone to the
Oktoberfest.
‘I saw her from the window heading towards the
underground,’ he said. ‘She had a dirndl on. Where else would she be going?’
‘It seems an odd place for a meeting,’ said Franz. ‘So
many people and so noisy.’
‘Yes, and that makes it difficult for anyone to find
her. Phone her immediately! Maybe they haven’t met up yet and we’ve got time to
warn her,’ said Tante Ilse.
Franz rang, but Celia ignored his call and by the time
Max tried with his phone she’d turned hers off completely.
‘Call the police,’ said Timothy. ‘It’s our only
chance.’
They weren’t particularly helpful. With the
Oktoberfest on and a football match scheduled for that evening their resources
were overstretched and Franz was hampered by not being to explain properly why
Celia should not be meeting Jeremy.
‘They just think I’m a jealous husband whose wife’s
having an affair. I’m going down there to look for her myself. You lot wait
here and warn her if she calls back.’
Max insisted on going too, so they left Timothy in one
flat and Tante Ilse went back to hers.
‘Bring Celia back safely,’ she said to Franz, gripping
his arm as he bent to kiss her goodbye. ‘I love her so much!’
Franz nodded, his eyes suddenly stinging, and left.
*****************************************************
‘If you could see the look on your face!’ said Jeremy.
‘Priceless!’ He drew up a chair the other side of the desk from Celia while
Morpheus remained standing behind him.
‘What’s … what’s going on? Why is he here?’ asked
Celia. The smelling salts Jeremy had given her had helped to clear her head,
partially at least.
‘Ah, Morpheus is a good friend of mine. We’ve been
working together on and off for many years. First of all with the Colonel and
then - when he started getting all idealistic about how he wanted to fund his
adventures in politics - without him!’
‘But Ned …’
‘Ah, dear old Ned. He was much too interested in the
arms deals that I was organizing for the Colonel during the war.”
“That was you?” asked Celia. “Not … not Timothy Arnold?”
“That was you?” asked Celia. “Not … not Timothy Arnold?”
Jeremy laughed. “What? That fussy old woman? No, no,
it was me. And your brother was starting to be a real nuisance with his
questions. Very unpatriotic of him. I had the unofficial blessing of the
British government itself! Or at least the Department for British Export
Development.’
‘Did you kill Ned?’
‘No, but we might have had to if it hadn’t been for
that Croatian tank shell landing in the right place at the right time. Just
extremely good luck – for me at any rate!’
‘But …but why did you believe me when I said I’d seen
him?’
Jeremy shrugged his shoulders. ‘Best way to know what
you were up to. And there was always the remote possibility that you were
right. There were just bits and pieces of body in the building after the shell
hit it. I could see you weren’t going to give up looking for him and if we kept
an eye on you then maybe you’d lead us to Ned. But that’s not going to happen
now.’
‘What do you want though? What are you trying to
achieve? I don’t understand.’
Jeremy waved the bundle of material Celia had brought
with her.
‘Well, first of all this stuff. I have no intention of
being prosecuted for helping the British government break UN embargoes. And
then secondly, Morpheus here is very unhappy at the damage you and your husband
have caused to his business operations.’
‘The prostitution rings?’
‘Exactly. Though you don’t need to sound so
judgemental. Very bourgeois of you. By
destroying his relationship with the Colonel you’ve lost him his friend and protector,
the only one he had left after his family was wiped out. And as perhaps you’ve
heard, Morpheus believes in revenge.’
‘Have you poisoned me, is that why I feel so ill?’
said Celia, her voice shaking.
‘No poison, just a little drug in your beer to make
you cooperative. A pity, if you’d only just given everything to that sleazy
boyfriend of yours, Tomislav Lederer, none of this would have been necessary.’
Celia felt dizzy again, and again Jeremy put the small
bottle under her nose.
‘You know about Tomi?’ she asked finally.
‘Of course! Tomi approached Morpheus a short time ago,
wanting to sell him Ivana’s information which he believed he could get from you,
thanks to those most artistic photographs that he took of you two. Morpheus
told me and we hatched this little blackmail plan for Tomi to try to get hold
of everything without anybody getting hurt. But then you spoilt it by being all
noble and refusing to hand it over. Very foolish of you! It’s going to lead to two
deaths.’
‘Deaths?’
‘Morpheus will explain. It was his idea.’
‘One is already happen,’ said Morpheus. ‘Sometime soon
police find Lederer’s body near Ostbahnhof . With nice photos. Two will be you,
also with nice photos. Look like you murder him, then suicide with same gun.”
“The shame you see, Celia. You couldn’t live with
yourself,” added Jeremy.
“But … but the police will know you’re involved. I
told Franz I was meeting you!”
“And I shall tell them all about it! You rang and said you had a story from my good old friend Ned about UN embargo busting. Because I’m so good-hearted, I agreed to try and help Ned’s poor little sister. I came to see you, found you had nothing and left again, very annoyed at how you had wasted my time.”
“And I shall tell them all about it! You rang and said you had a story from my good old friend Ned about UN embargo busting. Because I’m so good-hearted, I agreed to try and help Ned’s poor little sister. I came to see you, found you had nothing and left again, very annoyed at how you had wasted my time.”
He looked at his watch. “Speaking of which, Morpheus,
I need to leave now if I’m going to get my plane. Give me about an hour’s start
before you kill her, there’s a good chap,” he turned back to Celia. “Perhaps I’ll
hear about this on the news tomorrow night back in London, eh?”
He got up from the chair and patted Morpheus on the
back. “I’ll be in touch again soon. I think we can use this material against
our good friend the Colonel in due course.” He opened the door and looked at Celia again. “Sorry
about this Celia. It’s nothing personal with me, just business. Morpheus on the
other hand … I think it’s very personal!” Then he left.
Morpheus pulled out a gun from his pocket and sat down
in Jeremy’s chair. His Grand Inquisitor’s face had developed dark rings under
the eyes since the last time she’d seen him and they made him look pitiless. Celia
shrank back in the chair behind the desk, her heart beating faster than she’d
have thought possible, tears starting to trickle down her face.
“Maybe you pray. We have time. Nobody come here until
much later. Pray!”
Celia fell to her knees and put her elbows on the desk
and started to pray like never before. At first just random words, but then she
began to whisper all the prayers she could remember one after another, over and
over again, like a chant. The repetition gradually calmed her down and she
started to think. She had to try to make a connection to her captor.
“I know what happened in the war to your parents and
your wife,” she said eventually, her hands still clasped in front of her and her
elbows on the edge of the desk. “It was very terrible!”
Morpheus said nothing. He kept his eyes down and the gun
steadily pointing at her. After a moment, Celia carried on.
“What kept you going? How did you manage to survive
that?” At first she didn’t think he’d respond, but then he spoke.
“Anger. Hate. Revenge. Very powerful emotions. Makes many
things possible,” he said.
Celia was silent, thinking what to say next.
“But … but those emotions eat you up inside if you can
never let go of them,” she said. “They can make you ill, give … give you cancer
…
As she spoke she saw his eyes flicker up to her face with
a look of surprise in them. Then she realized.
“Oh …it’s happened to you, hasn’t it? You have a
cancer, don’t you?” she asked. Again
there was a moment’s silence.
“That’s what doctor say.”
“So it’s serious then?”
Morpheus nodded. “Nothing can be done anymore, but …” he
shrugged his shoulders. “… we all die some time.”
“How much time do the doctors say you have?”
“Longer than you. I think you should …”
Celia never heard what he thought because at that
moment something crashed against the wall of the store room and she heard the
sound of German voices arguing outside.
“Ich hab’ doch
gesagt, wir müssen die …”
Surprised, Morpheus half-turned in his chair to see
what was happening behind him. Celia seized the chance and with all her
strength tipped the desk up and over so it toppled onto Morpheus and knocked the
gun out of his hand. She leapt for the door, wrenched it open and was outside and
running before he could stop her.
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