[My favorite fiction is the mystery genre with a little romance in the mix.
My favorite setting is a cold, rainy day and sitting by a crackling fire
with a new mystery to read. 'Caroline in the City' characters do not belong
to me. All others in the story exist only in my vivid imagination. R.]
CAROLINE AND THE BODY UNDER THE STAIRS
Rebekah
Chapter One
Sometimes one single event in our lives is so powerful, so earthshaking, it has the power to change everything that was at one time so familiar. I ought to know. It happened to me. Everything in my own familiar and comfortable little world changed. Things that were once important to me were not so any more. I guess you could say that my priorities changed focus. Because of this, I want to put the facts down on paper for posterity. After all, someday my children and grandchildren will want the whole story and I wouldn't want to forget the least little detail.
I guess the best place to start is at the beginning. My name is Caroline Duffy and I am the creator and cartoonist of the cartoon strip, 'Caroline in the City.' I consider myself to be an artist because the job requires a lot of creativity, but there are some that would argue that point. Luckily for me, my little cartoon strip has been syndicated in hundreds of newspapers across the country. In addition I always have calendars or mugs or books or gift items to create as well. It was always a great life and I guess most people would call me successful. Too bad I didn't feel that way. My professional life might have been great but my personal life was a mess.
It's not that I'm unattractive or anything. I'm pretty in what I consider a regular sort of way although there have been male acquaintances who have called me beautiful. Maybe I'm just too critical of myself. I know I'm a good person because I was raised that way. But I knew it would take more than a good heart to find the right man to spend the rest of my life with. Anyway, I guess I'm getting a little off the subject, a bad habit of mine, or so I have been told.
The day my world started to change was the second Friday in June just after my thirty-first birthday. I was standing at my big picture window that looked down on the side street from the second floor. A mass of blue and white patrol cars were lining the street and alley.
"Hey Richard, it looks like something big is going down. There are six cop cars down there."
"So." Richard continued his coloring without breaking stride.
"Aren't you even the least bit curious? Don't you want to know what is going on in the neighborhood?"
"No." I had a feeling he was in a worse than usual mood today. I kept watch at the window, giving him a running monologue on the activity down below.
"Oh, no, there's a coroners wagon. Someone must have died." Richard had given up and came to stand next to me at my post.
"Very observant, Sherlock. Any other clues?" He said dryly. Richard Karinsky was my assistant and coworker. He had been working for me for almost two years now. Richard is a very different man than what I was used to. To explain him would take pages and pages so I'll cut it short. On any given day, he was rude, hard working, sarcastic, humorous, impatient and very sweet. In short, he was a man of contradiction. He and I had become good friends thanks to me with my constant probing and poking into his life. For some reason, he put up with it.
"Well, according to the shadows on the ground, I'd say it was getting late and our work is not done. The sarcasm in your voice tells me it's late Friday and you want to go home. I hear the sound of the elevator, which means that Charlie is probably here to pick up the finished strips." Just then my door popped open and the courier skated in.
"Wow, you're good." Richard's sarcastic answer held a tiny bit of respect.
"Hey, Caroline. Hey Richard." Charlie skated to a stop on my side of the desk. Charlie was the messenger for my strip. Every weekday, he picked up my work and delivered it to the publisher's office. Charlie is.well, hard to explain so I'll just say that Charlie is Charlie and that's about it.
"Just about finished, Charlie. Why don't you sit down and rest a while?"
"Can't Caroline. I gotta go back downstairs where the action is. The man is down in the lobby."
"The 'man', Charlie?" I asked in some confusion.
"Police, coppers, the fuzz, the pigs, the long arm of the law." He was skating in circles now, obviously wound up from the confusion downstairs. At least, I hoped that was the reason.
I just stared at him. I noticed Richard doing the same.
"Okay, I give up. What happened in the building?"
Charlie came to a stop. "They found a body on the fourth floor. It was dead."
I looked over at Richard and noticed he was biting his tongue to keep from saying anything. He seemed to have a lot of patience with Charlie, god knows why.
"Charlie, people pass away everyday. It was probably an older person-" I started to gently explain to him.
"No, it was a thirty two year old chick who lived alone.with a cat." He looked at me. "Whoa, creepy, Caroline. That could have been you."
I had gotten up from my chair at the large double writers desk and sat down on the couch. I suddenly didn't feel so good. "I'm thirty one." I heard myself say quietly.
"The news on the grapevine is that she was offed. You know, killed, murdered, rubbed out, bumped off..." He circled his neck with his hands and made a strangling noise.
"Charlie." I could hear the warning tone in Richard's voice.
Charlie chose not to listen. "But the body had been there for three days. They just now found it because of the smell. And the best part is, the body was found under her stairs." He skated over to my own staircase and pointed dramatically at the small closet door located there. Like I said, Charlie is Charlie. I know he didn't mean to be tactless or disrespectful and the 'best part' to him meant the most 'exciting part' but that didn't help my heaving stomach.
I suddenly found a short glass of what smelled like Scotch whiskey shoved into my hands. I looked up into Richard's gentle brown eyes. Did I mention how sweet he was?
"Caroline, drink this. You don't look too good."
I sipped the drink and wrinkled my nose at the taste. I don't care for the stuff but I have it around for guests and emergencies. Like this one, I guess.
To be continued..
CAROLINE AND THE BODY UNDER THE STAIRS
Rebekah
Chapter One
Sometimes one single event in our lives is so powerful, so earthshaking, it has the power to change everything that was at one time so familiar. I ought to know. It happened to me. Everything in my own familiar and comfortable little world changed. Things that were once important to me were not so any more. I guess you could say that my priorities changed focus. Because of this, I want to put the facts down on paper for posterity. After all, someday my children and grandchildren will want the whole story and I wouldn't want to forget the least little detail.
I guess the best place to start is at the beginning. My name is Caroline Duffy and I am the creator and cartoonist of the cartoon strip, 'Caroline in the City.' I consider myself to be an artist because the job requires a lot of creativity, but there are some that would argue that point. Luckily for me, my little cartoon strip has been syndicated in hundreds of newspapers across the country. In addition I always have calendars or mugs or books or gift items to create as well. It was always a great life and I guess most people would call me successful. Too bad I didn't feel that way. My professional life might have been great but my personal life was a mess.
It's not that I'm unattractive or anything. I'm pretty in what I consider a regular sort of way although there have been male acquaintances who have called me beautiful. Maybe I'm just too critical of myself. I know I'm a good person because I was raised that way. But I knew it would take more than a good heart to find the right man to spend the rest of my life with. Anyway, I guess I'm getting a little off the subject, a bad habit of mine, or so I have been told.
The day my world started to change was the second Friday in June just after my thirty-first birthday. I was standing at my big picture window that looked down on the side street from the second floor. A mass of blue and white patrol cars were lining the street and alley.
"Hey Richard, it looks like something big is going down. There are six cop cars down there."
"So." Richard continued his coloring without breaking stride.
"Aren't you even the least bit curious? Don't you want to know what is going on in the neighborhood?"
"No." I had a feeling he was in a worse than usual mood today. I kept watch at the window, giving him a running monologue on the activity down below.
"Oh, no, there's a coroners wagon. Someone must have died." Richard had given up and came to stand next to me at my post.
"Very observant, Sherlock. Any other clues?" He said dryly. Richard Karinsky was my assistant and coworker. He had been working for me for almost two years now. Richard is a very different man than what I was used to. To explain him would take pages and pages so I'll cut it short. On any given day, he was rude, hard working, sarcastic, humorous, impatient and very sweet. In short, he was a man of contradiction. He and I had become good friends thanks to me with my constant probing and poking into his life. For some reason, he put up with it.
"Well, according to the shadows on the ground, I'd say it was getting late and our work is not done. The sarcasm in your voice tells me it's late Friday and you want to go home. I hear the sound of the elevator, which means that Charlie is probably here to pick up the finished strips." Just then my door popped open and the courier skated in.
"Wow, you're good." Richard's sarcastic answer held a tiny bit of respect.
"Hey, Caroline. Hey Richard." Charlie skated to a stop on my side of the desk. Charlie was the messenger for my strip. Every weekday, he picked up my work and delivered it to the publisher's office. Charlie is.well, hard to explain so I'll just say that Charlie is Charlie and that's about it.
"Just about finished, Charlie. Why don't you sit down and rest a while?"
"Can't Caroline. I gotta go back downstairs where the action is. The man is down in the lobby."
"The 'man', Charlie?" I asked in some confusion.
"Police, coppers, the fuzz, the pigs, the long arm of the law." He was skating in circles now, obviously wound up from the confusion downstairs. At least, I hoped that was the reason.
I just stared at him. I noticed Richard doing the same.
"Okay, I give up. What happened in the building?"
Charlie came to a stop. "They found a body on the fourth floor. It was dead."
I looked over at Richard and noticed he was biting his tongue to keep from saying anything. He seemed to have a lot of patience with Charlie, god knows why.
"Charlie, people pass away everyday. It was probably an older person-" I started to gently explain to him.
"No, it was a thirty two year old chick who lived alone.with a cat." He looked at me. "Whoa, creepy, Caroline. That could have been you."
I had gotten up from my chair at the large double writers desk and sat down on the couch. I suddenly didn't feel so good. "I'm thirty one." I heard myself say quietly.
"The news on the grapevine is that she was offed. You know, killed, murdered, rubbed out, bumped off..." He circled his neck with his hands and made a strangling noise.
"Charlie." I could hear the warning tone in Richard's voice.
Charlie chose not to listen. "But the body had been there for three days. They just now found it because of the smell. And the best part is, the body was found under her stairs." He skated over to my own staircase and pointed dramatically at the small closet door located there. Like I said, Charlie is Charlie. I know he didn't mean to be tactless or disrespectful and the 'best part' to him meant the most 'exciting part' but that didn't help my heaving stomach.
I suddenly found a short glass of what smelled like Scotch whiskey shoved into my hands. I looked up into Richard's gentle brown eyes. Did I mention how sweet he was?
"Caroline, drink this. You don't look too good."
I sipped the drink and wrinkled my nose at the taste. I don't care for the stuff but I have it around for guests and emergencies. Like this one, I guess.
To be continued..