Showing posts with label John Pettinger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John Pettinger. Show all posts

Wednesday, 2 October 2013

Prediction Fiction

Herewith the two latest episodes for Prediction Fiction, using the prompts alabaster, pore and waxwork.  The whole of the tales involving DS John Pettinger and the disgraced and disgraceful Tao can be accessed from the tabs above.  
 
A change of focus [57]
 Pettinger pored over the images Cherriman had smugly produced.  Spread across the faux-alabaster kitchen worktop their several lurid messages were shocking.
Not so much for what they depicted but that Cherriman knew such things had taken place
‘They’re fakes.’
‘You have to prove that.  In a court of law if necessary...’
‘I’ll risk that.’
Pettinger remembered a waxwork-buttocked judge, last seen handing wads of cash to greedy, now-dead, Gunita. 
He sighed.
‘Cherriman, now Raptor’s gone, surely we can re-negotiate?  I’ve no interest in Khakbethia...’
‘Me neither. I need a tame policeman here.’
‘It won’t be me.’
‘I think it will.’


Dirty tricks
Mutterings warned Drusilla not to approach too closely to the man whose gun threatened her daughter’s life, e’en as the mob parted to permit her passage.  Rarely seen in daylight she shocked the elders who’d known her, biblically, who’d pressed themselves against her alabaster skin, soot-pitted pores of which now close resembled leaf-mould.
She  halted twenty feet before them. 
Described some swift finger-writ message in the air, whereupon her daughter’s face became yellow waxwork.
‘She curses you?’  Tao, mildly incredulous.
‘I stole her magic...’
‘Then she cannot harm...’
Premature:  his pale passenger slumped against him, causing his gun to fall.

'The Blacksmith's Wife' (illustrated on the left) precedes Tao's tale.

Saturday, 31 August 2013

Prediction fiction - serial update

I've updated the two prompt-led serials running since the beginning of the year.  To John Pettinger's tale, 'A change of focus', I've added episodes forty-five to fifty-two, to  'Tao escapes from Rhodes'  episodes thirty-one to forty-seven. [Links in the page bar at the top of this page]

As ever, the words supplied dictate direction, plot and the arrival and departure of  a variety of characters, mostly nefarious, and I am, as ever, immensely grateful to Colleen for the hosting of Prediction Fiction.

Next week's are muckrake, gloss and trappings.   Should be fun.

Wednesday, 3 April 2013

Callipygian and A Change of focus

A change of focus [32]
‘Yanno, no,’ Raptor’s expression pained, ‘how could I have killed him?  I was with you, he in custody...’
Pettinger grunted. ‘No... released on diplomatic bail... as per the fucking handbook.’   Then, doggedly reverting, ignoring the turbulence of messages from his superior, questioning his absence,  ‘How come my brothers knew, when I did not?’
‘Guessed.  I sent you here, paid for your education.’
‘Manufactured reasons for me not to return?
Sharp gleam of surprise, not sufficiently fast-hid, ‘Kept you safe...’
‘Why not protect me there?  Since you need me to eventually return.  And why, for fuck’s sake, why the tinpot embassy?’

A change of focus [33]
Raptor’s smile a recrudescent memory.  ‘Part of their grand scheme to wrest power; naïve belief that allying themselves with Britain in these turbulent times...’
‘Christ, don’t tell me they’re stupid enough to trust the EU handbook?’
‘They wanted a hand-out to support their fight against the Dubnovaskis.   I merely encouraged.’
‘Is Khakbethia really that poverty-stricken?’
‘It’s known hunger... as I know hunger now.’  Standing, ‘Time to eat, Yanno.’
‘You still have to tell me about Sally-Ann.  You knew her, had her, passed her on to me...’
Quietly, ‘Did not kill her.’
‘But caused her to be killed?’
Raptor strode ahead.

The most recent  entries for the Prediction which required the inclusion of handbook, grunt, and  turbulent.  And with thanks to my younger son for the word 'callipygian'

Wednesday, 13 March 2013

A change of focus

Decanting truth from a flagon – a vat – of  lies, lies long-distilled from fear-straddled infancy, had become second nature for John Pettinger. 
Childhood fear had been triple-dealt.  Siblings, father, his mother’s brother Raptor:  least physical but most frightening, because of tearing  notches in his mind.
Was that why today’s interrogation had brought recognition? Understanding?  Sense of like-mindedness?
Why he’d let him go, arresting his brother in Raptor’s place, to placate his boss and provide a perpetrator for the crimes committed by his uncle?
Did that stem from his oh-so-superior understanding of the truth?
Or had Raptor cynically brainwashed him once again?

‘I could lose my job for this...’ Pettinger, behind the wheel.
‘Could come and work for me.  Could do so anyway, straddle both worlds...’
‘Good and evil?’
‘Here, and there.’
‘Tell me about Sally-Ann.’
‘She’s the first I decanted your way...’
‘Why?’
‘Why first?  Your brothers had become ungrateful...’
‘You regularly supply them?’
‘Having tried and tested, yes.  Hopgood had brains, though...’
‘They don’t?’
Grunted affirmation. ‘Had ambition too...’
‘So it wasn’t you who killed her?’
‘I don’t kill women...’
Raised eyebrow ‘There’s notches enough say you lie.’
‘Not since...’
‘Not since my mother?’
‘Yanno, it had to be done.’

[episodes 26 and 27 in John Pettinger's tale, this week's prompts from  The Prediction being 'decant', 'notch' and 'straddle'   The tale in its entirety can be read by clicking the page tab above]

Saturday, 23 February 2013

John Pettinger at the Khakbethian embassy


This, episode 22 of the serial 'A change of focus', was voted last week's winner of the Friday Prediction challenge by host  Colleen Foley.  
Predictioneers were required to incorporate 'articulate', 'whorl', 'pelt'  into a  sci-fi, horror- fantasy or noir tale of no more than one hundred words


‘Excellency!’
Strangled articulation announced the entry of  the pensioner hired to disguise the whorls of dirty espionage which hung about the Khakbethian embassy.

Skull-knuckled hands clutching the double doors, he hung for a moment then slowly sagged until his badger-pelted head lay on the carpet, arms perforce rotated back- and upwards,  nine inches of knife-handle protruding from his spine.

The ambassador  and his officially-unacknowledged brother turned as one to watch him, their  mutual observation interrupted by the appearance of the man presumed responsible, the sight of whom brought relief to one brother, terror to the other, in roughly equal quantities.

 

Earlier episodes can be accessed by the 'A change of focus' page link above.