Brian was down on his luck.
The knock on the door echoed in the silent living room. The Jameson’s, Mr. and Mrs., both jumped from their seats as the sound came crashing through the tranquil house. Though they had been expecting company, it was almost twenty minutes late and they’d been waiting in dead silence for at least that long.
The diner was filled to the brim with society’s worst. Hookers and pimps talking noisily while waitresses race to serve their every demand bypassing the thieves and drunks hovering silently over steaming cups of coffee. It seemed anyone who was part of the human race’s underbelly or downtrodden by it was here, wasting the hours away.
My name is Tony Altru. In college, my keen sense of observation and knack for all things magical earned me the prevalent nickname “The Warlock”, a moniker that I still carry proudly today.
“I wish you wouldn’t drive so fast,” April said to me from the passenger seat of our small car. “You know I hate it when you get like this.”
Three days passed and, finally, the files I requested arrived by carrier late in the evening. In a hurry, I ran into the dining room and threw the stack down on our large oak table and started spreading the files out.
The other two interviews didn’t go much better. Though no one broke down and cried and there were no further unpleasant surprises, nothing interesting or of use was yielded. The frustration from all three interviews more or less banished from my mind any thoughts of interviewing other victims and forced me to return home, admitting defeat.
I returned home to an empty house. April had left a note on the refrigerator saying she’d gone to the post office and the grocery store. This was a pretty typical thing for her. Every time her online business received a large order she’d head to the post office to ship it off and then run to the grocery store for a cheap bottle of Merlot for us to share that night. I would have complained about her absence at such a critical time, but frankly, I loved Merlot too much to risk losing my share.
As I paced the stage in the small town hall auditorium, it began to dawn on me exactly how lucky I was. Most detectives, even those that spend years studying the craft before entering the field, wait years, sometimes decades before dealing with a case like this. Even then, very few are able to crack it and even fewer solve it with an epiphany out of the blue.
The talk continued for another hour or so. After the cops ran out, the crowd had plenty of good questions for me. I did my best to answer them. Some of them, like questions about Jeffery’s mental status or motivations, I could only give partial answers to, if any at all. Some others were too complicated to be answered right then and there, but most I answered with at least perceived grace and tact.
There’s nothing special about me, I’m just an ordinary guy. I’m just an
everyday Joe, another dumb schlock walking the streets.
So you’re heading up 85, what happens next?
So you left the restaurant, what did you do?
So what happened next?
So what happened when you got to Charlotte?
So what happened when he took you to the back of the bar?
So
what did you do after you pulled into the station?
So, after the heat blew over about the private eye, what did you do?
So how was the bus ride home?
Definition: Human chess is the never-ending game in which people, seeking to fulfill their own needs and desires, work for, with and against others positioning themselves, others and the world around them in such a way that they have a better chance of reaching their goals than those who seek the same thing or things conflicting with their desires.
One day, many years ago, I met a warlock I admired greatly. His knowledge of the world and the people in it greatly exceeded my own and I was determined to learn from him. Luckily, he was very generous and spoke with me at length about magic and how it works.
I was walking down the street when a friend who I had not seen in some time passed me going the other way. We both stopped to talk but after I greeted her, she looked up, raised her hands up to the sky in pure frustration and screamed, “Please tell me I will have a better day!”
I had just published an essay on magical theory in a local weekly. It was making waves through the community and everyone was wanting to talk to me about it. That’s why it didn’t surprise me when that the first words I heard when I entered the cafeteria were, “Can I ask you a question about your essay?”
I was late to my science class when I was startled by the sound of books hitting the pavement. A girl walking the other way had slipped, dropped her entire load and was scrambling to pick them up. Without hesitation I started to help her gather them.
I was enjoying my lunch break at an outdoor café when a female student walked up beside the table where I was sitting.
It was a rare burst of social interaction that brought me to the party, a mingling session of the honors students on campus. It turned out to be just a bunch of students dressed nicely, roaming the university’s guest house munching on finger food while chatting the evening away.
After my incident with the reporter in the cafeteria, I was invited to appear on a local radio show. The invitation said that the show was “A lively forum for discussing relevant and interesting issues.” But I quickly discovered that the Barry Samuel show was nothing more than one person, Barry, berating his guests with the aid of his loud-mouthed cohort Dr. Scream.
It was a lovely day out and I had just checked out a new book from the library for some light reading. I decided to take it to a nearby bench and start rummaging through the pages.
One day, my fiancé and I realized that neither of us had ever seen the inside of a gentlemen’s club and were curious about what one was like. So we headed out that night to head out to a small club on the edge of town and sat down at a quiet table near the corner.
I needed to make a stop by my apartment late one morning last week and headed out on foot from work. There’s a section of the sidewalk that’s been torn up for construction and replaced temporarily by gravel.
A couple of months ago I was making the long drive to a family reunion when I saw the twinkle of blue lights in my rear-view mirror. My brother and I were late leaving and I was probably going faster than I should have been, but I didn’t think I was going unreasonably fast.
I was visiting a classmate’s dorm for a study session when someone outside started shouting down the hall, “There’s a girl on the roof who’s about to jump!” Within seconds almost all of the doors in the hallway opened as people piled toward the stairwell, heading down to get a better look.
One of my earliest “warlock” moments occurred when I was in high school. I had been set up on a date with a girl that was a horrible match for me. Even though she seemed enthralled with me, I had little interest in her but, since it was a favor to my family, the date went on.
I had just finished guest-lecturing for an introductory psychology class at a small local college, when I found myself grabbing a quick bite to eat in front of the school’s humanities building. Though the campus was gorgeous, the food at the small cafe was inadequate and I found myself stewing over a half-eaten sandwich and a handful of chips.
The Characters:
The scene is set exactly as the first. However, this time there is a lovely antique vase on one of the end tables and Holderman is using a crutch to aid him in getting around. There is a knock at the door. Holderman slowly works his way over to answer it and it’s William on the other side who then barges into the house before Holderman can say a word.
The scene is set exactly as the first two. Holderman is peering out a window and he goes over and opens the door for William before there is even a knock. Holderman motions for William to take a seat and as he walks by him William hands Holderman a piece of paper. Holderman sits down and reads the paper while William sits down directly facing him. Holderman’s mannerisms are clearly different today; he’s more relaxed and open, more polite and friendly.
The scene is the same as before. This time Holderman is in his chair rocking gently when a knock comes at the door. Holderman doesn’t budge. The knock sounds again but this time it’s much louder than before and is followed by several doorbell rings. After the third ring Holderman finally gets out of his chair slowly and lets William in. William is carrying with him two sheets of paper. Holderman motions for him to take his typical seat and William does so without a word being exchanged and sets the paper on the table next to it. Holderman continues to stand over him.
The scene is the same. Holderman is sitting on the couch reading the newspaper when a knock comes at the door. He gets up, answers it and William enters carrying the deck of cards. Holderman sits back down calmly in his chair and William positions himself so that he faces Holderman on the opposite side of the coffee table. There is a long awkward silence between the two before William goes to speak.
The scene is the same. Holderman is sitting on the couch reading a book when a knock comes at the door. He opens it and William enters carrying a container of food. The food is obviously very hot as William scurries past Holderman to set the food down on the coffee table.
The scene is the same. Holderman is sitting on the couch reading a book when the doorbell rings. He gets up slowly and opens the door and William comes inside. Holderman motions for William to take his usual seat and he does so. Holderman slowly takes his own on the couch, having to lower himself slowly to avoid straining himself.
(Curtain comes up revealing a small, plain bedroom with the body of a young lady laying on the bed already covered, and an empty bottle of pills on the nightstand. Standing in the room is Sheriff O’Riely and Charles Flint.) Sheriff: What was your relation to the girl?
(Gosa, the lead attorney for Senator Livingston and Whitehall, one of the lead District Attorneys, are negotiating. There are two small chairs in the office, but Gosa has chosen to stand over the desk which Whitehall is sitting at. There are file folders all over the desk and it appears that there has been a great deal of stress in the office lately.)
(The setting is a small break room with scattered tables and chairs centered around a small television. In the room are three lab workers at the Livingston Crime Laboratory: Richardson, Daniels and Smith. They are eagerly watching the TV)
(The scene is Michaels’ new law office. It’s in rather poor shape, full of books and such but in need of repair. Michaels is sitting behind a desk rummaging through some papers when Davis walks in carrying a file folder)
(The scene takes place in Judge Samson’s chambers. Samson is sitting behind a nice oak desk with Michaels sitting in one chair on the opposite side holding the envelope from ACT 4. In a corner of the room, Gosa and two of her co-workers are chatting)
(The scene is a standard courtroom. At the back is a tall judge’s bench, on either side and toward the office there are two tables. The one at the left seating the prosecution and the one on the right seating the defense. Michaels and an assistant DA are sitting at the prosecutor’s table and Gosa and Livingston are seated at the defense side. It’s closing arguments in the trial and Michaels steps up to give his speech.)
I remember the day well, it had snowed the night before, something it rarely does in SC. It snowed several inches and it actually stayed. I spent the morning walk to Philosophy walking slowly, taking in the breath-taking scene. All of the grass and roofs were covered in a thin layer of powder-white snow. While the snow never stuck well to the walkways and roadways, it still made for a beautiful sight across the largely open and grassy campus.
I remember it was getting to be about evening or so. It think it was around 6 o’clock and I was getting ready to cross the street going northbound and he was getting ready to cross coming my way about half a block down the street. It’s a quiet street you know, we were I think the only two people out there.
