Jul 092014
 

**Hey folks this is a reprint of part 1 of The Man With the Hazy Suit that origonally ran on May 8, 2010.  I have been few and far between regular posts this summer, and that is the same thing that has killed some of my favorite TV shows, like Alias.  So I am going to rerun the whole story and finish it strong!  Thanks for reading for the first time or rereading if you have been here before.  The Choose your own adventure aspect is not available anymore.**Posted again 9/11/10

***6 August 2011.  I am re-re-running this again.  I will finish it this time.  It has been over a year since I started this story and it should be finished.  It will be a free e-book when it is finished, so look forward to that if you want the whole thing.  More details will follow with that.  Thanks for your patience.***

Good Morning my fine friends!  I hope you are as excited as I to get to this new tale of murder and strange intrigue.  This is a story I have ideas and scenes for but I have not written it yet.  My other stories were written previously and I just edited them into posts. This story will unravel as it goes.
At some key points, I am going to have a poll, where you dear readers, will have a choice as to what path the story will take.  In the end, we will have the blog version of the story and the alternates all packaged like one of those old “Choose your own adventure” books.  I loved those books. I don’t know how long this story is going to go.

In a previous poll I asked how far was too far for the story, and the most votes was on keep going until the story plays out.  That is where we are today.  This will probably go on for a while.

There is not a vote today, but there should be next week.   It will be open until Tuesday noon MDT.  At that point the direction of the story will be determined by the most votes!

For today, and without further adieu, I present:

The Man With The Hazy Suit

Part 1

The man was dead.  We were finished.  The Wilton County Sherrif’s department was convinced that the “Gas Can Killer” had been killed in Murphy Park, in a hail of bullets from every deputy in the vicinity.  As far as the Captain was concerned, the case was over. We would never know who he was and why he became a killer.

I was finishing some paperwork as the medical examiner was taking the body away.  As ranking officer on the scene, I had bagged the items found on his person and was completing the list of items for the official file.  I had written down a Swiss Army type pocketknife; 2 small boxes of penny matches, one full, the other with 3 remaining; a nail file; and a small scrap of paper. What was on the paper could have been a clue to his identity, or it could have been gibberish.  “NCCS 1658 10-33-58”  That was what it said.  Written hurridley in a shaky hand with red magic marker.  The paper wasn’t much bigger than a golden dollar.  It appeared to be plain notebook paper.  I wrote the inscription in my personal notebook.  Something to think about later.

Back at the station, all of his belongings were boxed up with the case files and stored later that day.  Finished.  The papers would report it later that afternoon.

The phone on my desk rang.  “Sergeant Tompson” I answered.  It was a reporter.  I filled in some details on the case as I knew them and hung up reminded about the message on the scrap of paper.  I opened my notebook and looked at what I had written again.  NCCS 1658 10-33-58.  What could that possibly mean? It looked like a Star Trek reference.

I turned to my computer and typed the reference into Google.  No results.  I tried NCCS.  Nothing promising.  “Think Mike” I told myself.  “Think”.  The phone at the main desk rang and was answered by someone.  I wasn’t paying much attention until I heard the typical answer, “Wilton County Sherrif, how can I help you?”  Something clicked in my head. Wilton County.  Wilton County, North Carolina.  It couldn’t be that easy could it?  North Carolina, NC.

I started plugging in North Carolina and CS.  Google returned North Carolina Central Station.  A Bus Depot.  Could it be such a cliche thing as the North Carolina Central Bus Station?  A locker?  1658? That was too easy, I thought as I gathered up my notebook and keys on my way out of the station.  I was going to check it out.  Maybe I could find some finality to the case.  We would have to see.

I pulled my cruiser into the North Carolina Central Bus Station parking lot and noticed the sign.  NCCS.  Bingo.  I headed inside and looked for lockers.  A whole wall on the left hand side of the station was segmented into rows of lockers.  I headed that way.

The first row of lockers held 1000-1100.  I went to the next.  1100-1200.  And so it went until the next to the last row.  1600-1700.  I started searching for 1658.  And there it was.  Grey and battered, with a small combination lock on it.

These lockers were rented for weeks at a time.  The contract must not be up yet, or the lock would have been cut off.  I was nervous with excitement.  What could that locker hold?

I looked back to my notebook and tried the 3 numbers as the combination.  The lock opened.  This was way too easy.  Something had to be, well, wrong for it to be this easy.  I took a deep breath and lifted the latch. Inside there were 13 yellow legal pads, filled with a tight handwriting.

My hands shook as I took them out of the locker and headed to a bench in the station where I started to read.

My name is Aaron Goodwin.  If you are reading this, I am dead.  And all for the better.”  This opening line made my heart skip a beat.  I decided to read the rest before calling it in.

I had never been interested in anything to do with the law.  Sure I had read detective stories as a kid but I never thought I would be in one.  I am sittting here now, trying to figure out what to do with the information that I have gathered.  The outcome does not look good, for me.  I need to get all of this out, get all of this written down so no matter what happens, there will be a record of the truth.  It may be cliche, but I have to do this.”

I knew there was a long night of reading ahead of me.  I couldn’t read this here.  I stood and forced myself not to run to my car.  I resisted the urge to drive home at full speed, lights and sirens blaring.  I had found something great.

That’s all for today!  Join us next week for more of The Man With the Hazy Suit!

What did you think?  Comments are open below!

-Justin

  9 Responses to “Fiction Saturday 3! The Man With the Hazy Suit Part 1”

  1. Best one yet!

    I'll be following along for sure.

  2. I demand a poll.

  3. I know you are all discombobulated over your birthday but try to shape up enough to get through to the weekend. Just relax and admit that you like all the attention. What kind of cake are you getting?

    • Ralph, Ralph, Ralph…The attention really does make me uncomfortable, unless there are bags of cash involved. I would love some bags of cash or big checks with lots of zeroes before the decimal point. Alas, that probably isn’t going to happen. If I had my druthers like I usually do there is no cake involved on my birthday. I go for a nice fresh Cherry Pie. That isn’t in the budget this year though so homeade yellow cake with chocolate frosting it is. My wife makes a great frosting…maybe I can whip up a custard and do a boston creme pie….or eclairs, I can make those….what dessert did you have for your birthday?

  4. No dessert at all. You having ice cream with yellow cake?

    • Ice Cream only makes the cake soggy. Ice cream and cake are best enjoyed separately. If you’re in the neighborhood (wink wink) drop by and have some dessert, I will even adulterate your cake with ice cream

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