The Masterpiece Murders

A new Lou York!

     The rain poured into the street with no signs of letting up as I walked home from The Red Door, it was a quiet little bar and the singer had legs that went for miles, and a smile that would make a priest reconsider his oath. Couldn’t remember her name though, but I could always come back in a few nights. I loved this time of night not a lot of people on the street but not late enough that the cops would think I was a prowler. The light from the stores on each side of the street glistened off the rushing water, rushing to the sides of the road and joining their brothers in the filling gutters. I pulled my coat closer to me as I began to regret not taking a cab home. I finally reached my office, noticing something odd, a car parked outside, a car I had never seen before. I slipped my hand into my coat and pulled out my cigarette case, lighting one quickly with a match before dropping the lit match into a puddle with a little hiss as it fizzled out. I held my gun in my bandolier as I opened up the side door that led to the stairwell of my office. I looked up the winding square staircase not seeing anyone, slowly going up the stairs, I paused briefly every floor until I got on mine, the third floor. I opened the door slowly to a woman outside my office with what looked like picture of some sort, but I couldn’t tell what it was, as it was wrapped in brown paper. He hair was a blonde that could only be described as movie star blonde, she seemed sure, confident, I would even go as far as use the word “headstrong” though I didn’t know her. Though with all that confidence, she seemed off, like something finally broke through her thick skin and broke her. I took my hand off my gun and walked to my office, trying to match her confidence, it was pale by comparison really, but it was the best I could muster. “Mr. York?” She said; her voice was softer than I anticipated. “Yes, that’s me.” I stated, attempting to seem confident without seeming cold. “I have something I need to discuss with you.” She began,” Do you mind if we discuss it inside?” I nodded, “Yes of course, please come in.” and unlocked the door. I noticed two things just then, it had been down pouring for a while and she was not wet, not even a bit, how, she wasn’t holding an umbrella, how long had she been here? Then I noticed the package glistened in the light, and that answered my question, she had held it above her head to get in. I sat in my chair and offered her one, which she took quickly, with a sense of urgency that I couldn’t quite understand. “Mr. York, last week my sister passed away,” “My condolences.” I said sympathetically, knowing too well the death of a family member.  “Thank you, the police said it was suicide, but I know it wasn’t. It’s because of this.” She got up and pulled the wrapping off of the package revealing the portrait of a lovely woman looking off into the distance out of a second or third floor window. “What is this?” I asked not quite understanding the connection. “This is how I found my sister when I found her dead. I got this painting a couple days ago.” Then I understood. Someone must have painted it shortly after she died. “I’ll take the case.” I said, staring at the painting.

Reviews

[Alti]

First I'll point out some grammar improvements (changes in brackets):

The rain poured into the street with no signs of letting up as I walked home from The Red Door(.) (I)t was a quiet little bar and the singer had legs that went for miles

I loved this time of night(;) not a lot of people on the street but not late enough that the cops would think I was a prowler.

...the rushing water, rushing to the..." I would strongly advise not using the same word as a verb and adjective in the same sentence.

I finally reached my office, noticing something odd(:) a car parked outside, a car I had never seen before.

I looked up the winding square staircase not seeing anyone, slowly going up the stairs, (pausing) briefly (at) every floor until I got on mine, the third floor.

broke through her thick skin and broke her.
Again I advise against two of the same word like that. You could say "penetrated her thick skin" etc.

“Yes, that’s me(,)” I stated,


The story could do with a bit more character, especially with the narrator. Try to give it some flare.. like he is narrating with some personality. It is currently a bit bland. Not REALLY bland, but it could certainly be better.

The title is good, and so is the name Lou York.


Good Luck!


Regards,
Tim

[Nathanial Tirado]

Thanks Tim! I appreciate your feedback!