I’ve now written for seven days straight! That’s the longest streak I’ve had for a while. Hoping I can keep it up even after this month is over. I’ve written another 1,106 words, pushing me over 12k and still ahead of the curve, but not by much. I’m hoping to have another two sessions at least in order to get further ahead. I would love to be between 15k and 20k by the end of tomorrow. We shall see. It has helped having that beat sheet. I’m still humming along the path.
I tried something with the first scene for today. I’ve been listening to some of Jessica Brody’s lectures from her Writing Mastery Academy, and one of the things she mentioned was that every scene should be a mini-version of the beat sheet. I tried to picture this scene between the super and Leon that way, and I think it gave the scene a little more punch. But I’ll let you decide what you think. Here is the first excerpt for today.
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I waited several minutes before I finally saw the super appear at the top of the stairs leading to the basement. He appeared to have been disturbed right before heading to bed. He was sporting a pair of pajama pants that, as he approached, I saw sported small images of scantily-clad women. He was wearing a white tank top that was working double-time to hold in his excess belly fat, and a pair of brown fuzzy slippers completed the ensemble.
“I’m gonna need to see a badge,” he said in a voice that sounded rough, as if he was not used to speaking to other people. I pulled out my badge and held it against the glass, so he could get a good look at it. He pulled out a pen and wrote my badge number on his palm. “So, how can I help you, Officer Smith?”
“I’m looking for a person involved in a murder case I’m investigating, and I have reason to believe he may be staying in one of your apartments.”
“Izzat so?” He scratched his balding head. “Wait a sec. You’re the guy from the paper. Leon. The murdered girl.”
Once again, I cursed that article and the officer who conspired with the press to divulge all that information. “Yes,” I admitted. “That is the case I’m working on, and I have reason to believe the person responsible may have been here.”
“I’ll be happy to help,” the super said, but his expression gave me the impression he was actually feeling the opposite. “I’ll just need to see your search warrant.”
“Excuse me?”
“Your search warrant. I seen the cop shows. I know how it works. You don’t got a search warrant, I don’t have to let you in. But I’m sure you got one, right?”
“It’s still being processed,” I lied, “but I would really appreciate the opportunity to do some exploratory work to find out exactly which apartment we’ll be needing a search warrant for.”
“Mmhmm,” he said, scratching his head again. “I guess you’ll just have to come back when you get that warrant. I don’t like the idea of causing trouble for my tenants.”
“Sir, I’ll be no trouble at all. I just need to find out which apartment this individual is using.”
“Right. So, you’re gonna knock on all the doors, disturb my tenants, in the hopes of finding someone? That sounds like trouble to me. You can come back with a warrant.”
Seeing as I had not started the process nor planned to, that would be difficult for me to do. I needed to see this apartment before anyone else figured it out. I needed to surprise Jack. An entire police force banging on the door would give him advance warning.
“I appreciate your caution, Mr…”
“I don’t gotta give you my name neither.”
“True enough.” I decided to try another tack. “But this is a time-sensitive matter, sir. There is a killer out there killing young girls, girls young enough to be your daughter.”
“I don’t got a daughter. And I ain’t married.”
Of course he wasn’t. “You know…” I started, stroking my chin, “I’m sure if you helped me crack this case, you would be in the paper. You’d be just like the hero in one of those cop shows.”
The corner of his mouth tilted upward and he cocked his head to the side, apparently pondering the idea. Hopefully imagining all the attention he’d get. This appeared to be a man who had been forgotten by the world, and, if my instincts were correct, he would seize any opportunity to be seen.
“But I’d just be the guy who let you in the building. That’s not hero-worthy.”
“You’re just not seeing it right. Hero Superintendent Leads Police to Killer’s Den,” I said, spelling out the headline in the air with my hands. I would make sure to let the press know who saved the day. It was none other than…” I waited, holding my breath.
“George. George Dunleavey.”
I had completed my run of the five second-floor apartments. Only three of the occupants allowed me to take a look through their window, but that was enough to narrow down my search to the three middle apartments on the third floor. The first apartment had housed a lovely, elderly couple who had invited us both in for tea and were more than helpful in allowing me to look out their window. George, while he had been gruff the entire time we had spoken, appeared to be a completely different person when talking to the tenants. He knew each of them by name, and they all appeared to love him. I had to admit I was somewhat surprised by this apparent contradiction. But not overly surprised. That was another thing I have learned in my long life. People will never cease to surprise you.
I knocked on the second door, but there was no response. “Who lives here?” I asked George. I had already seen he seemed to know each and every person in this building personally, and so I was surprised when he frowned in puzzlement.
“That’s a strange guy. Been here for years. Never calls me for assistance. I seen him maybe once or twice in all this time. Pays cash up front for the whole year.”
I tried to contain my excitement. That did indeed sound like a strange guy. Maybe my guy. “What’s his name?”
“Hmph. It’s on the tip of my brain. Kinda hard to remember having only talked to him a couple times. Never even see him for rent time. Just a fat envelope with cash beginning of every year.”
“Can you let me into the apartment?”
“I dunno, man. Letting you in the building is one thing, but on someone’s private property? That’s a whole other thing.”
“What if you open the door, and I just look? I won’t step inside the apartment.”
He chewed on his lower lip and looked off to the right, probably reviewing his knowledge of cop shows for some idea how to proceed.
“George,” I continued, “you said yourself, this is a strange guy. If he is the murdering type, do you really want him in this building? Especially right next to that lovely couple next door?”
That apparently pushed the right buttons with him. He looked down at his ring of keys, fumbled with a few, and finally found the right one. “You’re staying in the hallway, right?”
“Right.”
He opened the door and stepped back, giving me a full view into the apartment. I immediately knew this was the right place.