Rounding Findy

Experimenting with the first person narrative style again this morning, I think I'm getting to know him a bit more. He wants to be polite, he wants to be the gentleman like Philip Marlowe and Sam Spade and he wants to be honest. However, he's got a short temper (as I found out in the extract below) and he has financial worries which both mean that he struggles to act the perfect gent and he will happily lie or double cross to get some extra money. This first person style is certainly helping me round Findy a lot more, and is naturally making me add more detail. Here's a violent side of Findy that exploded by accident today;

Elizabeth looked worried when I got back to the office.

‘Where have you been? Why haven’t you been answering your phone?’

She got up from the desk. I ignored her and headed towards my office. She stood in my way and pushed a green folder into my chest.

‘What’s this?’

I opened it up and began thumbing through the pictures. Mrs. Burris and, and- and me. The dead Mrs. Burris. There I was leaning over her body. There were close ups of her battered and bruised body, and a clock on the kitchen wall. The pictures must have been taken from the side window, how hadn’t I noticed anything?

‘Where’d you get these?’

‘They were laying on the mat when I went to lunch.’

‘And you didn’t see anybody?’

‘No.’

‘What time did you go to lunch?’

‘One, as usual,’ she said twisting a lock of her hair and looking at the floor.

‘What time did you go to lunch?’

‘Okay, half past twelve. I was hungry, I still only had an hour. I didn’t look at the folder until I got back.’

I threw the file at the wall and thought about kicking my office door. I kicked my office door. That didn’t help so I tried again. It swung loose at the top. I kept kicking until the door fell into my office.

I turned back to Elizabeth who was watching me carefully.

I rubbed my hands through my hair and wished the door was still standing so I could kick it some more. I walked into my office and stamped on it a few times. I returned to Elizabeth.

‘Had any phone calls or anything?’ I asked straightening my tie.

‘Yeah, hang on she said picking up a note from her desk. Kim phoned earlier. He asked if you wanted your bin bag back. What’s that, a code?’

‘Yes, it’s a code,’ I said dryly. ‘Nothing else?’