Untitled--for now

The Camphert building had been erected in '76 and no partner had been formally adopted until about six years after Lincoln Michael Scott had been Charles Camphert's personal assistant at the ripe old age of 26. Fresh out of law school and ready to take on the world. It had taken Scott eight years to finally receive his degree and one try at the bar. He was, as Camphert said, a law prodigy.

 

Ten years had passed, four since he had been named partner, but the big letters on the front of the building had just been placed declaring Scott a full partner. Camphert and Scott, it had a ring to it. Camphert and Scott was far from being the most prestigious firm in Manhattan but they sure as hell knew what they were doing and they were damn good at it, too.

 

Thirty-two years the Camphert building stood, erected by some big shot architect who specialized in Greco-Roman structure, and in those thirty-two years Charles Branson Camphert had never been late. Not until that day. At nine o'clock it was Lincoln who noted his senior partner's absence and by one o'clock was frantic.

 

At precisely, 5:35 pm, it was Lincoln who discovered the naked, cold body of Charles Camphert. On his chest, painted in what appeared to be blood, was a large Celtic-style cross, four legs that were exactly equal, and the walls, too, bore an array of symbols and a strange language--all painted in blood. . .his blood.

 

Lincoln forced back a gag as his hands trembled fitfully. He tried to regain his composure as he fumbled for his cell phone trying his hardest to pry his eyes away from Camphert's dead body. The smell was unbearable. Having grown up in the heart of Harlem, Lincoln had smelled some pretty raunchy stuff, but nothing compared to this.

 

He quickly punched in the numbers: 9-1-1, and after three or four rings a lady answered with a bored voice.

". . .Please state your emergency," she said in that voice that hinted at this being the millionth time that day she'd said the same words.

"Th. . .my partner. . .he's dead."

"Dead? Sir, please tell me your name. Calm down."

Still her voice betrayed no emotion; this wasn't as if this could be her only murder of the day--this was Manhattan.

 

Lincoln couldn't talk, he knew it wouldn't be words that came out if he opened his mouth. He kept staring at Camphert. When people talk of dead people they always say "they look so peaceful" that wasn't true, not here, at least. Camphert's face was twisted in struggle, his body was bruised and broken, and the marks, the cross.

"Sir, an address--can we have an address?"

Lincoln gave it to the woman closing his eyes in order to avoid looking at Camphert.

"Just step outside, stay where you are and don't touch anything."

Lincoln nodded, unable to talk, even though the woman couldn't hear him. Choking back another upset of bile, he stepped into the night's cool air inhaling deeply.

"Someone will be there soon," the lady on the other end was saying.

Author's Note

This is my first try at murder mystery so bare with me on this, if you have any suggestions on how to make it better feel free to share, thank you

Reviews

[Zeitgeist Manifesto]

This was an excellent prologue. I loved how you used his gift of intelligence to give him character and also set up the success that fell right into place in his career. I think it added depth to Scott to show us that he has work ethic and a concept of the big picture by showing us how he earned his position.

My favorite thing is how you force the reader into conceiving all of this story with one side of the brain...and then shifting to the other side. That transition was excellent. The Celtic Cross was uber dynamic. Your tekniks in this story range from in-your-face...to subtle. This range of skills creates the most impressive writing because of how easy you make it seem.

[~ Moonlight ~]

I think it is very good, so far. So please do carry on!!

[Valette]

This is a really good rough draft- though there are a few small things you might add:

I'm a tit-twistin philanthropist.
>.< wrong copy. hang on...

"Thirty-two years the Camphert building stood..." should be 'For thirty-two years..."
"Camphert's face was twisted in struggle" feels like an action, which kind of seems strange for a dead man. Perhaps frozen in shock, or twisted in fear? What is his expression? I am having trouble picturing a facial expression for struggle.
Hands are a very descriptive part of the body. Does Camphert have blunt square fingers, or long graceful didgets; are they bent into claws or relaxed peacefully at his side? What position is his body?
More details on the scene would really bring it to life. In addidion to bringing the scene to life, these little deets often are what makes a case, and are the things that will lead your protagonist to the killer.
One last thing- death has a very distinctive scent, as does blood. Trying to incorporate other senses besides sight into your scenes would really help to draw your readers in.

[Sarah McConnaughey]

"even though the woman couldn't here him" Did you mean "hear"?

This was really good! You're great at keeping the reader's attention and wanting more. Great job! :)

Will you be adding more to this? I'm sure it would be great if you did. :)

[Toki]

The plot and description are very well done. You really pull them to the end and leave the reader wanting to know more. I suggest the character names be revamped. You switch from Scott to Lincoln and Camphert is repeated instead of switching to Charles occasionally.

Nice job.

[The Viking]

This is a good beginning. It's got darker undertones that sort of subvert the high society feel of the characters. I'm interested to see where it goes. I'd add a little to it, though, for instance, we know Camphert is the successful owner of this law firm, but that's it, and we don't know a lot about Lincoln at all. A little paragraph between the first and second introducing Lincoln a little more would help him become a more powerful character. Other than that, good job. I'm interested to see the psychosis that drove the murderer to paint a bloody celtic cross in a man's blood all over his chest, as well as the meaning behind the symbols scrawled on the wall. Very dark esoteric stuff. I look forward to more.

[Rain]

Great start for a first try. Actually, nothing about this piece seemed awkward. You did what you're suppose to do...make the reader question, and yearn for more. Fantastic begining. Rain..

[Emily B]

There's more, I hope. Definitely caught my interest. Though Lincoln sent me back to pre-1860. It wasn't until the cel. phone reference that I was jolted back to modern life. It's my fault. I'm a history geek.

[Rod Zinkel]

It reads fine, sentence structures are good. I was a little confused by all the references to time in the first paragraph, to try to figure out how old Michael was and the present year. There is a typo in the last paragraph of here instead of hear. I take it this is the beginning chapter, as Celtic symbols imply meaning. If it is a chapter, then something like time references can be spaced out in the story, instead of setting it right away.

[Stefanie]

I like it. For your first time, it's good. *smiles* My favorite part: "Lincoln forced back a gag as his hands trembled fitfully. He tried to regain his composure as he fumbled for his cell phone trying his hardest to pry his eyes away from Camphert's dead body. The smell was unbearable. Having grown up in the heart of Harlem, Lincoln had smelled some pretty raunchy stuff, but nothing compared to this." I really liked it. It sounded exactly like what would happen, if someone was in that kind of situation. Though, put more suspension. I want to be at the edge of my seat. You know? *smiles* Once I got to the end, I was like: Aw, no more? I want more! *smiles and laughs* Keep up the good work!

~Smile. Jesus loves you.~

Love,
Stefanie