Justinia Wright | CW Hawes

The World of Justinia Wright — Part 2

Raymond Chandler, the creator of Philip Marlowe, perhaps the king of the hardboiled PIs, was not interested overly much in plot.

For Chandler, atmosphere and characterization were more important than the plot of the story. Which may be why we remember Marlowe more than we remember Chandler himself.

As a reader, atmosphere and characterization have always been of greater interest to me than the plot of a story. Mostly, I suppose, because I find the entertainment value of a story in the characters and the atmosphere.

As a reader of whodunits, I never read them to solve the puzzle. I read them for the atmosphere and the interaction of the characters with each other. I suppose I’ve been spoiled by Sherlock Holmes and Nero Wolfe.

Plot is simple. William Wallace Cook defined plot as

Purpose, expressed or implied, opposing Obstacle, expressed or implied, yields Conflict.

All plots are nothing more than stories of conflict. No conflict, no story.

But what makes the story, the conflict, of interest to the reader is what the writer does with it. That is, how does the writer make it interesting to the reader? How does he get the reader interested in the conflict? The writer does that through atmosphere and interesting (to the reader) characters.

For my Justinia Wright novels, when I read comments such as

The action builds slowly, relying more on relationship and character development rather than on violent, gruesome murders. … Justinia (Tina) and Harry are well thought out, interesting characters that are complemented by an equally interesting supporting cast.

And

I don’t read a lot of mysteries, but when I do, I appreciate interesting characters and atmosphere. Festival of Death has both…

And

…characters are well-developed and intriguing…

I know I have succeeded in producing a novel that is more than plot, more than a mere portrayal of a conflict, but rather a novel that is alive with people who have captured the reader’s attention, interest, and perhaps his or her heart.

The new Justinia Wright novel, Death Makes a House Call, is coming soon to a virtual bookstore near you.

The story is one of death, this is a murder mystery, after all, and justice. A tale in which the one who defies human decency is apprehended and made to pay for the crime.

However, Death Makes a House Call is first and foremost a story about people: a story of life, love, and devotion.

Stay tuned! Death Makes a House Call is coming and will be here soon!

Share This!

The World of Justinia Wright

About a month ago, I wrote a post announcing I’d been given an award by international bestselling authors Caleb and Linda Pirtle. You can read that post here. I’m still excited at being named One of the Top 25 Mystery Writers You Need to be Reading.

There are currently 7 books in the Justinia Wright Private Investigator Mystery Series. Vampire House and Other Early Cases of Justinia Wright, PI, which I’ve numbered Book 0, doesn’t get included on the Amazon series page due to Amazon’s quirky rules.

I’m in the middle of doing line editing and proofreading on Book 7 (actually the 8th book in the series) and hope to publish it by Christmas. More on this book in a future post!

So what is it about the Justinia Wright Private Investigator Mystery Series that makes it worth reading? I thought I’d let some of the reviewers tell you what makes the series so fun to read (and for me, to write!).

Richard Schwindt, who has an excellent amateur sleuth trilogy — The Death in Sioux Lookout Trilogy — and an equally excellent occult detective trilogy — Tony Price: Confidential — wrote this about the world of Tina and Harry Wright:

Some fictional universes are just places you want to be, and I have been so moved by the world CW Hawes has created for private detective Justinia Wright and her brother Harry. Although Hawes has a demonstrated penchant for the scary and grotesque, and can frequently be found (at least in his fiction) underground, he has shown a remarkably light and airy touch in Trio in Death-Sharp Minor. Tina and Harry’s world comes complete with music, art, excellent food and drink. I would drop by their house any time, if only for a glass of Madeira. The three mysteries are deftly written and include an adorable and sexy love affair between Harry and Bea, one of the bereaved from the first story. If you want to check out a good cozy mystery, without the annoyingly twee failings of the genre, you could do much worse than this series. Highly recommended for mystery lovers and anyone looking for an escape with a light touch.

And that is exactly how I feel when I write these mysteries: Tina and Harry’s world is where I want to be.

Another mystery writer, Joe Congel, who writes the superb Tony Razzolito PI Mysteries, wrote this about Tina and Harry:

[But Jesus Never Wept] is the third book in the Justinia Wright Private Investigator series, and it is a top-notch addition to a top-notch series, written by a top-notch author. If you’ve been following the brother/sister PI team, you already know this series is rich in storyline and character development. If you are discovering the Wrights for the first time in this book, you will not be disappointed. However, treat yourself, and go back and read the first two books in this wonderful series.

In this installment, the author mixes religion, the Japanese mob, and high-end prostitution, and wraps it all up in a very engaging murder mystery. But what truly drives this story is the relationship between the main characters – Justinia, Harry, Bea, and Cal. The subplot of their lives is intertwined masterfully with the main plotline of the book, which is the mystery that needs to be solved. And although the idea of an intriguing mystery may have brought you here, the well thought-out, fun, realistic, characters are what will bring you back for more. A great murder mystery will make a great book, but a deeply developed cast of reoccurring characters is what makes a great series… and this is a great series.

I loved the first two books, and this one is no different. It’s why I bought the whole series. I look forward to seeing what the Wright’s get themselves into between the pages of the next book. But don’t take my word for it, try them for yourself – just don’t be surprised if you become addicted.

For me, the story is all about the characters. The plot, or storyline, is simply the characters doing their thing in a particular situation.

I find it very satisfying when my fellow mystery writers have such a glowing opinion of Tina and Harry. They are telling me I have accomplished what I set out to do: to create a world that is as cozy and enjoyable as the one Rex Stout created with Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin.

I love Tina and Harry. They were my first children, as it were. In fact, they are older than my daughter! I love the world that Tina and Harry inhabit: a Minneapolis that is akin to the real city, and yet is its own world.

If you desire to travel anywhere in the world right from the comfort of your favorite chair, if you want to entertain yourself at your own pace, if you want to put your worries and problems on a shelf for awhile and lose yourself in someone else’s world — then I encourage you to explore the world of Tina and Harry Wright. It’s a world filled with comfort, good food, and lots of adventure. Live a little from the comfort of your favorite chair, at your own pace.

Share This!

In the Top 25

The older I get, the more I enjoy mysteries. Not thrillers. I actually don’t care much for them. I like the traditional whodunit, where the focus is on solving a murder, and the pacing is gentler.

The first novel I wrote was a mystery. The title? Festival of Death. Although the Festival of Death you can buy today on Amazon, is not at all the same book I wrote back in the late ‘80s. It’s amazing how a couple, three decades can change things.

In the last five years, I’ve written five novels, two novellas, three novelettes, and seven short stories in the Justinia Wright Private Investigator series; and there are an additional two novels in the works. I love every minute I spend with Tina and Harry. The series is also my all-time second highest seller.

Now it’s one thing to write something simply because you love doing it. But it’s a whole different ballgame when you get recognized for doing so — which recently happened to me.

International bestselling authors Caleb and Linda Pirtle are known for their promotion of indie authors. It’s a wonderful thing they are doing for their fellow writers.

Recently they named me as One of the Top 25 Mystery Writers You Need to be Reading.

I am thrilled and honored they chose me to be on their list.

Support from one’s peers is always awesome, and I feel very blessed that my fellow writers appreciate and enjoy my work.

Being an Independent Author/Publisher, means you’re it: you are the writer and you are the publisher and you are the marketer. You are responsible for everything: writing the book, editing the book, formatting the book, producing the ebook and print masters, and marketing the book.

All of which is a lot of work, and some days it is more work than I care to handle. I’d rather just be writing. And then along come people like the Pirtles, who have done all that you’ve done, and know how tough this writing business is. There is nothing like a little recognition and appreciation to put gas in your tank.

Here’s a link to Caleb and Linda Pirtle’s website: https://calebandlindapirtle.com/c-w-hawes-one-top-25-mystery-writers-need-reading/

Recognition is nice. It is a signpost to readers: hey, check this out! Because at the end of the day it all boils down to readers. And we writers want readers to know we exist. After all, they buy the books.

So all you readers who are reading this, buy and review the books of indie authors. They don’t have massive marketing budgets, but they do have you — and your support is crucial for their encouragement and success. Go ahead and make an author’s day.

To my fellow writers, I encourage you to buy and review the books of your peers. Such an act will not only make their day, but you might gain a friend in the process. And who doesn’t need friends? Remember, it’s who you know that counts.

I’m very thankful for the Pirtles and will continue to support my fellow writers. Good karma is, well, good!

Comments are always welcome! And until next time, happy reading!

Share This!

Getting into Books

A writing guru whose mailing list I’m on is always advising us writers to sell the read, not the book. And that’s ultimately what we are all trying to do. Some of us just do so better than the rest of us.

As a reader, that is, of course, exactly what I want to know: where will I be going, what will I be experiencing, feeling, doing as the result of reading this book. The book I’m considering buying, or the one I bought and am considering reading.

I read fiction primarily for entertainment. If I learn something new along the way, or am given cause to stop and think for a moment — extra kudos go to the writer.

For me, reading is no different than watching TV, or a movie, or playing a video game. Except my imagination is doing the work, instead of someone else’s — and that’s what makes reading, IMO, the better form of entertainment. Even the best form. Reading is active. Videos, in all forms, are passive. And active is good. Stretching those imagination muscles is good. It’s why reading is my favorite form of entertainment.

The other day I was reading Lawrence Block’s introduction to one of the editions of Black Orchids, the ninth Nero Wolfe mystery, by Rex Stout.

Block’s observation as to why we reread the Nero Wolfe mysteries is enlightening, and I think a vital key as to why some of us really get into books. Block wrote:

I know several men and women who are forever rereading the Nero Wolfe canon. …

They do this not for the plots, which are serviceable, nor for the suspense, which is a good deal short of hair-trigger even on first reading. Nor, I shouldn’t think, are they hoping for fresh insight into the human condition. No, those of us who reread Rex Stout do so for the pure joy of spending a few hours in the most congenial household in American letters, and in the always engaging company of Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin.

… we know these two, and it is a joy to see them simply being themselves.

What Block wrote describes to a T why I thoroughly enjoy rereading the Nero Wolfe mysteries. Stout wrote in such a way that we are the fly on the wall observing the goings on in that delightful brownstone.

I’d go one step further than Mr Block: any book I read is for the characters. I don’t read for the plot. One reason, I suppose, why I enjoy plotless novels. I also don’t read for the suspense, which I prefer rather low key. And I’m old enough that I probably won’t learn anything new about the human condition.

I read for the characters — pure and simple. The experience of meeting new and interesting people.

If a writer can deliver the goods, characters I can fall in love with, then he has me hook, line, and sinker. I don’t care what else is in, or not in, the book.

Unfortunately, this does not occur all that often. Most writers seem obsessed with the plot. They are too busy counting plot points or beats, writing a detailed outline, following the Hero’s Quest, or whatever other nonsense is being pushed by the writing guru of the moment.

Most writers fail to heed Bradbury’s Dictum: create your characters, let them do their thing, and there’s your story.

Fiction is not about the plot — it’s about the characters. The characters are the ones who pull us into the settings, the time period, the world they inhabit.

I cannot recall one book where I walked away remembering the plot and not the characters. Not a single one.

At base, plots are simple. There are at most just a handful of stories. They are mundane at best. But characters, like people, are complex. Everyone has an outer life and an inner life. Good characters are no different.

Which is more interesting? Tarzan, or the plot of a Tarzan novel? Dirk Pitt, or the plot of a Dirk Pitt novel? Sherlock Holmes, or the plot of a Sherlock Holmes story?

Many of us would like to get into a spaceship and fly off to other worlds. I don’t remember a single plot in Eric Frank Russell’s Men, Martians, and Machines. But I do remember the chess playing octopoid Martians, and the android Jay Score.

Good characters pull us into their world. We become one with them and experience what they experience. This is because the writer can’t give us everything. He can only suggest, and once he does our imaginations take over and do the rest.

This is not the case with even a good movie or TV episode. That’s because we’re passive. Everything is fed to us. We can only react. We are limited to what’s on the screen — which is why special effects are becoming increasingly important.

However, my imagination can do what special effects will never be able to do. My imagination is mine and makes the story live for me. Special effects are general. They target everyone, and in the end that means they shoot for the lowest common denominator. My imagination produces special effects tailored for me.

The secret to a good book lies in the characters. They make any old plot shine. Because it’s the characters who make the plot come alive. Create the characters, let them do their thing — and there is the story.

As a reader, I appreciate the wonderful characters good writers create.

As a writer, I appreciate the readers who fall in love with my characters.

No greater compliment was paid to me then when this review appeared for Trio in Death-Sharp Minor:

Some fictional universes are just places you want to be, and I have been so moved by the world CW Hawes has created for private detective Justinia Wright and her brother, Harry. … I would drop by their house any time, if only for a glass of Madeira.

Tina and Harry’s home will never top that of Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin. However, I will be very satisfied if I’m granted second place.

Comments are always welcome! And until next time, happy reading!

Share This!

Where Have All The Mysteries Gone?

The latest Justinia Wright Private Investigator Mystery, When Friends Must Die, is now available. There are a total of seven books in the series (if we count Book 0, which Amazon doesn’t).

To be honest, of all the characters I’ve created Justinia Wright is my favorite. She was my first child, so to speak, and I know her so well it’s as though she’s a real person.

But in this age of thrillers and books whose pages turn themselves, Tina and her brother, Harry, have been a hard sell.

Rex Stout’s Nero Wolfe books are the ideal detective reads, in my opinion. They have a bit of Sherlock Holmes and a touch of noir, a smidgeon of philosophy, and a lot of wisecracking banter. I will take Nero Wolfe any day over any other fictional detective out there — including the Great Detective himself.

However, the Nero Wolfe novels aren’t thrillers by today’s standards, and while excellent reads I do have to turn the pages myself. And therein lies the rub.

If the mystery writers of the Golden Age were plunked down into today’s publishing world as newbies, I doubt they’d make it. Why? Because at times their books are ponderously slow by today’s standards. The riveting action usually doesn’t appear until the last quarter to third of the book. The front part is all clue gathering and sub-plot and character development. This makes for a slower read, but one in which the plot is more nuanced and the characters are more richly drawn.

Just think, in today’s market the likes of Agatha Christie, Patricia Wentworth, Ngaio Marsh, and Rex Stout might never have seen a book contract from a publisher. And if they’d gone indie, they might have sold books, but I doubt their names would be household words.

In his day, the very prolific Edgar Wallace was selling mysteries like the proverbial hotcakes. Today, virtually none of his books are in print. He often has plenty of action, but his books are in no way, shape, or form thrillers.

Even Erle Stanley Gardner, creator of Perry Mason, is edging towards oblivion as the generation that grew up reading and watching Perry Mason dies off. Why? Because for all the action, they aren’t thrillers.

Which introduces an interesting dynamic in the mystery vs thriller debate. The mystery reader tends to be older. The thriller reader, younger.

Today’s reader, especially readers of indie books prefer action — just like the pulp magazine readers of yore.

But there are writers of mysteries, traditional mysteries, who are managing to sell books. PF Ford, JA Mensies, and Renee Pawlish to name three.

There are, however, more writers of good mysteries who deserve a much bigger audience. Richard Schwindt and his Death in Sioux Lookout trilogy. Joe Congel with his Tony Razzolito, PI series. JP Choquette and her Tayt Waters mysteries. Just to name a few.

But why read traditional-style mysteries instead of thrillers? Primarily because I think they are overall more entertaining and engaging reads. Mysteries tend to be multi-dimensional, whereas thrillers, at least the ones I’ve read, are pretty much one dimensional. Kind of like superhero comic books. There’s a lot of unrelenting action and that’s about it.

Of course superheroes are all the rage, so maybe that explains the appeal of thrillers.

A good mystery is plot-driven, has multi-faceted characters, an engaging storyline, and a certain literary finesse. A good mystery engages one on a more intellectual level. But a good mystery isn’t all in the mind, because there will be plenty of action scenes to get the heart pumping.

Which is my point: a good mystery is a wholistic read. It appeals to the reader on many different levels.

Give PF Ford, JA Menzies, and Renee Pawlish a try. Give Richard Schwindt, Joe Congel, JP Choquette, and even my own Justinia Wright a try. You just might discover a whole new world opening up before you.

Comments are always welcome! And until next time, happy reading!

Share This!

A Nest of Spies

Yesterday, A Nest Of Spies (Justinia Wright Private Investigator Mysteries, Book 5) went on pre-pub sale.

In this new mystery, Tina meets some old friends, we learn a bit more about her mysterious past, and are with her as she fends off the FBI and the Patriot Act. Pick up a copy for just 99¢!

I decided to collect books 0 through 4 into an omnibus edition: Justinia Wright Private Investigator Mysteries Omnibus Edition. At $7.99, it’s 60% off the individual volume retail. If you haven’t met Miss Wright, this is a good time to do so!

The traditional mystery is my cup of tea, particularly the private eye mystery. I don’t read mysteries for the puzzle. That sounds odd, doesn’t it? As with all the fiction I read, I read for the characters. I am more interested in how the sleuth reacts to the problem than in looking for the clues to solve the case ahead of the detective.

They’re also somewhat slower paced. I don’t particularly care for thrillers. There’s too much frenetic activity in them for my liking.

After the third Quiller novel, I stopped reading. They were all same and the situations Quiller found himself in and how he got out of them stretched my sense of credulity to the breaking point.

The same with Jack Reacher. I read the first two books and my reaction was meh. Lots of action kept me turning pages, but in the end I didn’t care for, nor even much liked, Jack Reacher. He was too perfect and pretty much made of cardboard.

Lee Child created Reacher to be that person who gives all the playground bullies the thrashing they deserve and don’t often get. Unfortunately, for me, he does so too perfectly and has such a bland persona I don’t care about him.

On the other hand, I love reading Rex Stout’s Nero Wolfe. Eccentric to a fault, Wolfe is nevertheless likable. And wisecracking Archie Goodwin? How can you not like him? The banter between Wolfe and Goodwin truly spices things up in a way no thriller can touch.

If you like a solid traditional private eye mystery, take a look at Justinia Wright. The pacing isn’t frenetic, but there are plenty of thrills and spills. Along with eccentricities, there’s wit, wisecracking humor, and good old sibling rivalry.

Comments are always welcome and, until next time, happy reading!

Share This!

Let’s Sample a Murder!

Next week I’ll publish The Conspiracy Game, the 4th book in the Justinia Wright, PI series.

Back in 1982, when I read Raleigh Bond’s story “Meet Athalia Goode”, the editor of Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine made the complaint there weren’t enough female detectives. Which, at the time, was very true. Other than Miss Marple and a Sharon McCone mystery, the only other female sleuths were out of print Victorians.

However, 1982 was a seminal year. For it saw the appearance of the second Sharon McCone mystery and the introduction of Kinsey Milhone and V. I. Warshawski. Since then, there has been an explosion of female sleuths to the point where they now seem to dominate the field.

Justinia Wright was born in 1982, in the hopes she’d be my claim to fame. Unfortunately another seven years would pass before her first adventure, Festival of Death, was committed to paper. And in so doing came the realization my fiction writing skills were not yet up to the task.

Another twenty-five years would pass before I’d re-write and much improve Festival of Death. Now there are three novels, three novellas, and five short stories chronicling her adventures.

I hope the two initial chapters from The Conspiracy Game wet your appetite to read more of the stories of my favorite characters: Justinia and Harry Wright. Enjoy the sample!

The Conspiracy Game

1
She’s Not Here

Friday Night into Saturday Morning
September 19th to 20th

Cut a flatworm in half and you get two flatworms. Unfortunately, private investigation agencies aren’t flatworms. Take the best detective out of the agency and you’re left with an agency that doesn’t have its best detective.

Which helps explain why Bea, my wife and assistant, was at home in the office holding down the fort, while Ed Hafner and I were sitting in my car waiting for a man by the name of Darren Clay to emerge from the bar we’d tracked him to. I was getting paid all of $475 to find the guy and serve him the summons. And because Ed was sitting next to me, I wouldn’t get to keep all of it.

Ed is one of the three freelancers Tina hired when she needed extra hands, feet, ears, and eyes. Only Tina didn’t hire him. I did. Harry Wright, the guy now running Wright Investigations.

“Any idea when she’s coming back?” Ed took a bite out of his burger. The “she” he was referring to was Tina, my sister, and the Justinia Wright behind Wright Investigations.

“No. I don’t even know where the hell she is, Ed.”

“I don’t mean to pry, but that must’ve been one helluva big fight she and Lieutenant Swenson had.”

“It was big. In fact, it was gargantuan.”

Tina and Cal Swenson have been on and off lovers since before I came to live and work with her, some half-dozen years ago. Through it all, they remained friends. However, this time was different. Not only did Cal read her the riot act for withholding evidence and obstructing justice, he threatened to yank her license, and told her he was sleeping with his partner and wouldn’t be coming back to live with her. Couple the threat and the revelation with the fact Tina pulled a gun on him and, yeah, it was very much one helluva big fight.

Four days later, Tina packed a suitcase and left. Not one word as to where she was going or what she’d be doing. Nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Just said, “goodbye”, and that she’d be in touch. And keep in touch she did, up until six weeks ago. A weekly text message saying she was fine and then, “I’ll be out of touch for awhile. Always remember, I love you, Harry. Bea, too.” And that was it. Now nothing and I’m worried sick about her.

Bea and I have done what we can to keep the home fires burning. We’ve fed her cats. We’ve kept the agency open taking whatever work comes our way. It’s not a lot, though. Without Tina, Wright Investigations is just one among many. The work, such as it is, does keep Bea and me in practice. We’ve also learned shorthand. Just in case. One can’t always use a digital recorder and being able to take down a conversation in shorthand seemed to me to have its advantages.

Ed was shaking his big head. “Yeah, that’s too bad. Me and the missus, we have us a doozy every now and then. But we always work it out. Got the kids, ya know?”

“Kids make a difference.”

“They sure do. Makes ya think about something other than yourself.”

Our quarry emerged from the bar. “Okay, Ed, here we go.”

We got out of the car and made for the intended recipient of the summons I had in my hand. He was preoccupied with the hotty on his arm. Ed and I moved in. He got behind the couple and I positioned myself in front.

“Darren Clay?” I asked.

“Who wants to know?”

“I do. I have something for you, if you’re Darren Clay.”

“Get the hell outta my face.”

He took a swing at me and I got out of the way just in time.

Ed grabbed him and the hotty started screaming. I turned to her and she took off running back to the bar. A crowd was beginning to gather. Ed had Clay in a half-nelson. I shoved the papers into Clay’s jacket pocket, told him he was served, and headed for my car. Ed let him go and the clown ran up behind me, pushed me down, and smacked my left cheek with his fist when I started to get up. That was before Ed caught up and koshed him a good one. Clay dropped to the pavement like a sack of groceries.

A guy from the crowd charged Ed and got backhanded by Ed’s sap. He too lay crumpled on the ground.

A siren was blaring and a cop car pulled into the bar’s parking lot, screeching to a halt. The crowd vanished at the same time an amplified voice told everyone to freeze.

“Aw, hell,” Ed muttered.

We froze and two officers got out, guns drawn. They got within ten feet of us when one of them said, “Harry Wright, is that you?”

I recognized the voice and face. “Hi, Josh. Yeah, it’s me.”

“What the hell’s going on?” Josh motioned to his partner and they holstered their weapons.

“Just serving a summons to this fellow.” I pointed to Clay. “He didn’t want to be served. Took a swing at me, I served him, then he pushed me down and punched me. Ed, here, incapacitated him.”

“And that guy?” Josh point to the other fellow, who was now picking himself up off the pavement.

“He attacked Ed and Ed defended himself.”

“Ed work for you?” Josh asked.

“Yes.”

Josh turned to his partner. “They’re okay, Seth. I know Harry. Helped stop my daughter from being kidnapped four years ago.”

Clay was getting up. “I want to press charges. They attacked me.”

Josh turned to Clay. “Were you served a summons?”

“It’s in his coat pocket,” I volunteered.

“What’s the summons for?” Josh asked.

“Domestic violence,” I answered.

“Shit.” Josh’s tone of voice and the look on his face were not at all friendly. “Get the hell outta here before I beat the crap out of you myself.”

Clay spat. “Cops. Mofo bastards.”

“Get the hell outta here and get out fast.” Josh’s voice was quiet, but there was plenty of emotion in it and not the kind indicating he wanted to be best friends.

Clay and the other fellow left.

Josh turned to me. “Nothing to worry about, Harry. Go home and get some ice on that shiner.”

“Thanks, Josh.”

We shook hands.

Ed and I got into my Focus. I started it up, put it in drive, and began the trip to Ed’s place to drop him off.

“So you rescued his daughter?” Ed asked.

“Stinky, actually. I was there, but Stinky’s the one who talked the guy into letting her go.”

“Yeah, that’ll earn ya some points. Sure miss Stinky. Wasn’t much to look at. Sure did get results, though.”

“That he did. Our lucky night Josh answered the call.”

“Yeah. Should buy a lottery ticket.”

“Maybe two.”

“Yeah. Maybe two.”

***

The time was twelve after two when I walked through the back door. The lights were on, which meant Bea was waiting for me. Buddy, her Affenpinscher, greeted me, tail wagging. I scratched behind his ears and walked on in to the living room, where I found my honey lying on the couch with Isis, Tina’s Sphinx cat, cuddled next to her, both sound asleep. I leaned down and kissed her.

“Hi, Hon, I’m home. Let’s go to bed.”

Her eyes fluttered open. “Hi, Harry.” She reached up to touch my face. “Oh, my God! Harry, you’re hurt! Let me get ice.” She got off the couch. “Lie down.”

“Bea—”

“Lie down. I’m taking care of my man.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “Okay, Buttercup.”

Into the kitchen she went and Isis was relegated to the floor where she was joined by Prudy, Tina’s Maine Coon, Manley, Tina’s Manx, and Buddy. The critters sat in a row looking at me to see what all the fuss was about. In a minute Bea came back with an ice bag and towel. She put the ice on my face and I held it there.

“Get the Arnica from the medicine cabinet, would you please? It’ll take care of the bruising or at least lessen it.”

“Okay.” And off she went. Soon my little Bea was back with the medicine and a spoon. She sat next to me on the couch. At five-three and not even a hundred pounds, she doesn’t take up much room. I put a couple tablets into my mouth and let them dissolve under my tongue.

“Speaking of ‘Buttercup’,” Bea said, “Cal stopped by earlier.”

“He did? What did he want?”

“He wanted to see Tina. I told him she wasn’t home and I didn’t know when she’d be back. He seemed at a loss for words, so I invited him in. He then asked if she’d be available tomorrow.

“I said, ‘I don’t think so, Cal. She’s not here.’

“He said, ‘Look, Bea, I know you’re—’

“And I said, ‘Honest, Cal, she’s not here. Hasn’t been for months.’

“When I said that he mouthed the word ‘months’ and sat on the deacon’s bench. I said, ‘Yeah. She’s been gone for like six months, I think.’

“He was like in shock and just sat there for awhile. I sat next to him. I held his hand. I think he needed it.”

“Probably.”

“Then he asked if she was seeing someone and I told him I didn’t know because we haven’t heard from her in like six weeks. He turned his head and looked at me and said, ‘Really?’ And I said, ‘Yeah.’ He looked down at his hands and put the hand I wasn’t holding over mine.

“He was quiet for quite awhile, finally he said, ‘I’ve really messed this up. Nikki and I aren’t seeing each other anymore. She’s even gone back to Vice and uh, I… Aw, shit, Bea. I love Tina and I really screwed things up royal.’

“I said, ‘You were pretty shitty to her, Cal, and hurt her really bad.’

“His voice was very soft. I almost didn’t catch it. He said, ‘I know.’

“Then he got kind of official and said, ‘You haven’t heard from her in six weeks? Have you notified anyone?’

“I said, ‘Cal, who can we notify? We don’t have any idea where she is.’

“He stood and said, ‘I’ll see what I can find out. I’ll let you know.’

“We said goodbye to each other and he left.”

“Interesting, hon. It might be a case of too little too late. Tina isn’t going to forget what he did and to be honest I can’t blame her.”

“I know, Harry. That’s what’s so sad. I thought I messed up relationships. Those two… They take the cake. They’re crazy in love with each other and constantly blow it up.”

“Yes, they do. It’s pretty bizarre if you ask me.”

“It is. Let me see your face.”

I took away the ice and she leaned down and kissed the bruise.

“That’s to make the owie go away.”

She moved to my lips and kissed them. I put my arms around her and kissed her back. The kiss deepened and when our lips parted, she murmured, “I love you, Harry.”

I whispered back, “I love you, Beatrice.”

She giggled. “That’s a mouthful.”

“It is.”

“Here. Let me fill your mouth with something else.” She kissed me, filling my mouth with her probing tongue. She started to withdraw and I sucked it in, held it, then let go.

She sat up and took off her shirt and I lightly ran my fingers across her bare flat chest. Her little nipples were erect and hard. I raised my head and kissed each one.

“Take me to bed, Harry.” She stood.

I got off the couch, scooped her up in my arms, and climbed the stairs to our room, kissing her all the way. Then, in our bed, we loved each other for a long, long time.

***

Bea is the most passionate person I know. In our lovemaking it is no holds barred with her. And to think she was so insecure when I first met her. All she needed was someone to accept her and love her for who she is. When I did, she burst into bloom. She’s become a confident woman and doesn’t take much crap from anyone.

Before she came into my life, things were okay. Now? Without her, life would be a great big black hole.

Tina and Cal are the same really. They love each other and are good together. However, each one is afraid of something and, whatever it is, it tears apart two people who should be together and too often aren’t.

2
Liquid Night

Early Sunday Morning
September 21st

The alarm went off at six. Early for a Sunday morning, I know, but Bea and I were working on a case. We needed to be at Summer Tollefson’s townhouse to photograph dew on Dale Arneson’s car, as well as the “V” I’d marked with permanent marker on the rear passenger-side tire. All this to prove Dale was violating his separation agreement with his soon to be ex-wife, Judith. She was of the opinion Dale’s girlfriend, Summer, was a bad influence on little Jimmy Arneson. Therefore, when Dale had weekend visitation, there was no Summer. At least that was the agreement.

In actuality, in Dale’s world there was nothing but Summer. And this was the second weekend we’d caught Dale, Summer, and little Jimmy spending, hopefully, for their sake, quality time together. Two more weekends of photographing the separation agreement violation and we’ll have earned our three grand and Judith will have gotten her proof to ball-bust the man who once was the love of her life.

I parked the car on the street. The wind was gusty and the temp was in the mid-fifties with an overcast sky. Probably no dew to photograph. A few people were out and about. Joggers, walkers, a cyclist. A walker waved and said, “Good morning”. I waved back.

With camera in hand, I walked up the drive which separated the two sets of quad homes. Dale Arneson’s car was in the same spot where it was last night when I’d taken a picture of it with the house number. A look at the “V” indicated the vehicle hadn’t moved. I took pictures of the “V”, of the car and house number, and that’s when I realized someone was in the car.

“Great, Harry,” I said to myself. “You’re slipping up in your old age.”

How long had the person been there? Why hadn’t he or she started the car? And why hadn’t I noticed. Too doggone eager to take the pictures and skedaddle on back home. I took a closer look. The person was a man sitting behind the wheel. And the man was Dale Arneson. He wasn’t moving. He didn’t see me, even though his eyes were wide open. My guess as to why he was’t moving and didn’t see me was that it had something to do with the fact the front of his shirt was very wet with what looked like blood.

***

Lieutenant Cal Swenson of Minneapolis Homicide, the same Cal Swenson who broke my sister’s heart, had finished taking Bea’s and my statements, told us he was working on trying to locate Tina, and said we were free to go. And go we did.

On the way back to home, sweet home, I decided to let the police break the news to our client that her husband was dead and her son, along with her husband’s girlfriend, was missing. The information wasn’t something I wanted to give Judith Arneson at eight o’clock on a Sunday morning. Besides, I was just a wee bit pissed someone had stiffed us out of fifteen hundred bucks and felt my tax dollars needed to do some work. So let the Minneapolis police department tell Judith her kid’s missing.

When we arrived at the little mansion on West Franklin, which we call home, there was a strange car parked at the curb and end of the walk to the front door. Bea stopped and I got out of her little Fiat. While she parked in the garage, I walked all around the machine that was a chunk of solidified liquid night. Bea joined me.

“What is it, Harry?”

“At first guess, I’d say it’s a car.”

She hit my arm. “Of course it’s a car, silly. What kind of car?”

“An expensive one, is my guess.”

“Like the Maserati I gave you, which you never drive?”

“Yeah. Kind of. Only I have a feeling this machine would make the price tag on the Maserati look like chump change.”

I looked at the symbol but it didn’t conjure up any automakers I was familiar with. My car’s a Ford. Yes, Bea gave me the late Alicia Harris’ Maserati. The late Alicia being Bea’s former hife, which is a Tina-ism for the spouse in a same sex marriage. And Bea is right. I never drive the thing. Rarely drive it is probably more accurate. Mostly because where I’m often required to go it’s risky to drive a junker, let alone a car costing an eighth of a million bucks. Besides, I’m a Ford guy and I like my Focus wagon. I do have to say one thing, though: in looking at the vehicle before me, no one at Ford could even dream of something like this. The machine parked at the curb was a creation of true exotic beauty.

The piece of sculpted midnight was unoccupied. I shrugged, took a look up and down the street, and concluded the car probably belonged to someone visiting one of our neighbors and the person was just rude enough to park the thing in front of our walk.

“Come on, Babe, let’s go in and get some breakfast.”

Holding hands, Bea and I walked up the walk to the house. She had her key ready, unlocked the front door, and I pushed it open. Our noses took in the smell of bacon. Bea and I looked at each other and ran to the kitchen. There was Tina, cooking eggs and bacon. Buddy was sitting at her feet hoping for a handout, along with all three of her cats.

Share This!

Minneapolis – Fun City

There is just about everything available for the Minneapolitan and the visitor to do in Minneapolis and the surrounding area. Which is why ace PI, Justinia Wright, is proud to call Minneapolis her home. And if one wishes to venture further there is the gorgeous North Shore of Lake Superior; Duluth, with its locomotive ride and port city allure; the Amish communities near Harmony; and the very artsy town of Lanesboro, which is on the Root River Trail, an extensive trail system in southeastern Minnesota.

Minneapolis and the metro area, however, have plenty to keep one occupied and never bored. If water is what you want, Minneapolis, the City of Lakes, and Minnesota, the Land of 10,000 Lakes, has it. In fact, the Land of 10,000 Lakes has more shoreline than California, Florida, and Hawaii. In Minneapolis alone, there are twenty lakes and wetlands, several of which form the beautiful Chain of Lakes Parkway.

Lake Harriet

Lake Calhoun

Lake of the Isles

There are abundant opportunities for boating, canoeing, swimming, and fishing.

If you like winter activities, there is ice fishing, ice skating, and the ice cycle on Lake Calhoun.

Minneapolis abounds in greenways for walking and biking and has 129 miles of on-street bikeways and 97 miles of off-street bikeways, with plans to add another 40 miles.

Minneapolis has a lot of winter. If you love winter sports, then the city has much to offer. Such as 20 miles of groomed cross-country ski trails to play on. If downhill skiing is your thing, suburban Bloomington has Hyland Hills ski slope and Wild Mountain is only an hour away in Taylors Falls and Spirit Mountain in Duluth is only two and a half hours away.

To be honest, I think most residents of the Twin Cities really love summer. Perhaps because the season is on the short side. And there is plenty to see and do during the summer.

The Minnesota State Fair is the largest state fair in the country by average daily attendance and the second largest in total attendance. And USA Today named the fair the best in the country in 2015. The state fair runs for 12 days in late August and ends on Labor Day. Attendance in 2015 was over 1.8 million.

Other places to visit are the Minnesota Landscape Arboretum (okay, I cheated with a fall pic)

the Minnesota Zoo

Como Park Zoo and Conservatory

and Minnehaha Falls

Believe it or not, Minnesota has a thriving wine industry and wine tastings are a delightful thing to do on a summer day and many wineries are a mere hour drive from Minneapolis. And the wine is really top notch.

Minneapolis boasts over two dozen microbreweries and brew pubs. Eating and drinking has never been so good.

When I moved to Minnesota in 1969, this is what the skyline looked like

The observation deck of the Foshay Tower offered an unparalleled view of the metro area as it was, at 32 stories, the tallest building.

Four years later, the IDS tower was built which at 57 stories and 910 feet is the tallest building in Minneapolis. This what the skyline looked like in 1973.

In the past 43 years a building boom has taken place. This is the skyline today.

The view from the Foshay is still nice, but not like it once was.

There is something for everybody in Minneapolis and the surrounding area. I hope you’ve enjoyed the taste of the City of Lakes I’ve offered these past weeks. We’ve only scratched the surface. And perhaps in the future we’ll investigate further.

Next week, we’ll have a preview of the 4th book in the Justinia Wright, PI series: The Conspiracy Game. Where political mayhem comes to Minneapolis.

Share This!

Minneapolis – Art City

City Scene

Watercolor by Minneapolis Artist Raihana Dewji

Minneapolis and the Twin City area is a hot bed of artist activity. It’s no wonder our famed private eye, Justinia Wright, loves to call Minneapolis home. An accomplished painter in her own right, Tina loves the artistic atmosphere that pervades the city.

Minneapolis boasts two world class art museums. The Walker Art Center is one of the top modern art museums in the county.

The other is the superb Minneapolis Institute of Art, with over 89,000 works of art from around the world.

The New Entrance

The Old Entrance

Minneapolis is also home to The Museum of Russian Art, which houses a collection of 20th century Russian art that focuses on the Soviet era. In addition to its permanent collection, the museum hosts temporary exhibits with more general connections to the Russian-speaking world.

These museums are fabulous places to while away a lazy afternoon.

The Minneapolis College of Art and Design, which shares acreage that includes the Minneapolis Institute of Arts and the Children’s Theatre, is consistently rated by The Princeton Review as one of the best Midwestern Colleges, which is a rare honor for a visual arts college. The school has been recognized by I.D. magazine as one of the top ten design schools in the world and the school’s master in fine arts program is rated in the top fifty in the nation. All that in a little Midwestern city college!

The first weekend in August is the Uptown Art Fair. The second largest fair in Minnesota. Only the State Fair is larger. The three day event draws nearly 400,000 visitors to the Uptown neighborhood and upwards of $2 million in art is purchased. It is the place to see local, regional, and even nationally known artists displaying everything from leather goods, superb woodworking, pottery, sculpture, and paintings. For the art lover, those are the three most glorious days of the summer. One can also take in live performances and eat pounds of tasty artery clogging fair food.

Organizations such as the Minnesota Watercolor Society, Outdoor Painters of Minnesota, and the Northeast Minneapolis Arts Association provide artists a means of support, networking, and promotion for their art.

To see a sample of what Minnesota artists are doing today, take a look at these Pinterest boards: Art: Mn & Wisc and mnartists.org.

The art scene is alive and well in Minneapolis. It’s a good place to be an artist. And while Tina only paints perfect copies of other artist’s work, she’d have to agree: Minneapolis is near and dear to the artist’s heart.

Share This!

Minneapolis – A City of Music

Minneapolis Skyline and the Stone Arch Bridge

Justinia Wright has two great passions in life. They are music and art. And fortunately for her, the Twin Cities Metro Area offers rich experiences in both. Minneapolis boasts the world renown Minnesota Orchestra and St Paul is home to the equally famous St Paul Chamber Orchestra.

The Minnesota Orchestra Performing

In addition, fine regional orchestras can be found in Duluth and Rochester. However the music scene is in truth virtually inexhaustible as there are over two dozen small civic orchestras in addition to many college ensembles.

But Minneapolis doesn’t only have fine orchestras and chamber ensembles, the Minnesota Opera is one of the country’s most imaginative and innovative opera companies. And Philip Brunelle’s choral ensemble, VocalEssence, is one of the nation’s premier choral groups.

VocalEssence Choral Ensemble

A number of well known contemporary composers of serious (“classical”) music live in Minneapolis and the Twin City area, including Libby Larsen and Dominick Argento. The recently late composer Stephen Paulus also made the Twin Cities his home.

Famous pop music artists who started their careers in Minneapolis or grew up in the city include Prince and The Andrews Sisters.

And we can’t forget the many local groups that have a niche following, such as Atmosphere, Brother Ali, and Soul Asylum.

Minnesota is a musical state and the Minneapolis-St Paul Metro Area has something for everybody. In this post I’ve tried to give an idea of the breadth of what the music scene encompasses. Keep in mind, though, I haven’t even scratched the surface.

It’s no wonder Tina gets upset when her brother and sister-in-law talk about leaving Minneapolis when they retire. She can’t imagine any place better.

The Iconic Lake Harriet Bandshell

Share This!