|
Post by Biblically Accurate Angel on Mar 28, 2017 20:18:44 GMT -5
Still, I don't want to see him retire until well into his sixties. Gent, to me, is dedicated to his job and has only retired from the active field because he's feeling stressed out. I don't want to see him leave until FAR into the future.
|
|
|
Post by frankthetriviaman on Mar 28, 2017 20:27:26 GMT -5
Well, I was going to save this as a twist for a novel but it seems that I have to bring it out in order to explain why its so important Gent retires, as Walton puts it, "In 3, 4 or 5 years"
This new Chief, let's just say he has "ulterior motives" and there's a reason why he doesn't want Gunnarson snooping around. Long story short- Chief Turner is revealed to have ties to a certain group, forcing him to resign, and Gunnarson is hailed as the "hero who saved Scotland Yard"
At that point, if we want to bring Gent back, we can. Or, we bring back another chief first, then Gent for whatever reason comes back later.
|
|
|
Post by Biblically Accurate Angel on Mar 28, 2017 20:36:03 GMT -5
I like the idea, but... part of me would rather stick to what we have right now. Maybe later on.
|
|
|
Post by frankthetriviaman on Mar 28, 2017 20:39:52 GMT -5
Like I said- after 15, before 20.
On the other hand though, my original intention is for Turner to be very "by the book" and Gunnarson has to earn the respect from him.
Let's just see how the story flows for now, and we'll bring it up when it fits the story.
(remember- Gent already retired from the field work; how much longer till the office work gets to him)
|
|
|
Post by Biblically Accurate Angel on Mar 28, 2017 20:47:30 GMT -5
Personally, I've taken that more of an 'I'm so stressed, give me a frickin break!' than him actually retiring from it... who knows, maybe in a year or so he'll be back on the field.
Though if I could make a suggestion... I think we should take #11 and bring it forward and set the one you suggested back. We've been doing a lot of stuff with the usual crowd, and we'd probably see the Mob and The Man and such appear again in your idea. But the one I planned is different though - it's your average mystery novel (with a twist) and is basically what I set up LM for - good old fashioned mystery fiction.
But that's just me.
|
|
|
Post by frankthetriviaman on Mar 28, 2017 20:50:09 GMT -5
Thing is though- It's important that this story be LM 10; this novel, like LM 5, is a "celebration" Novel; though instead of all the old cases coming back to haunt him, this time its a case of "The Tables have turned"
Also- I do not intend for any of the recurring antagonists to appear in LM 10, rest assured.
|
|
|
Post by frankthetriviaman on Apr 2, 2017 1:05:31 GMT -5
All right, so this book will take place in 1949... three years from "now" in the LM universe (where it is 1946).
......
Adolf Gunnarson was resting at home; it was a quiet time of the year where crime was down and there weren't many cases to work on, so it was a rare respite for him. Suddenly, he got a call on the phone.
"Hello? Oh, Hello Gent, what's going on? Sure, i can come to your office, what do you need help with? A case?"
"No, something different. Please, come as soon as you can" Gent said on the other end.
"Ok" Gunnarson said. At Scotland Yard, Gunnarson found Gent in his office; it had cardboard boxes and he was taking his things and putting them into said boxes.
"Oh, hello Gunnarson, glad to see you" Gent said as he kept taking things down and putting them in his boxes.
"Gent... what is happening?" Gunnarson asked, curious.
"Well Gunnarson... I am retiring" Gent explained.
"What? But the office work couldn't have gotten to you already" Gunnarson asked, shocked.
"It's not that; it's a... little different. Yes, my job has been easier since I stopped going into the field. Though to be honest... this wasn't really my decision" Gent explained.
"Huh?" A confused Gunnarson asked.
"Well, you see, a week ago I was called to a meeting..." Gent began explaining.
......
Gent entered the small conference someone was waiting for him.
"Ah, hello Gent, how nice it is to see you again" the he said.
"Secretary Ede" Gent acknowledged as he spoke to the Home Secretary; the office that appoints the Commissioner of the Police for of the Metropolis, or as Gent simply put it "Chief of Police for London" in layman's terms.
"Well, I suppose you are wondering why I called you here" he asked.
"Yes; it's not every day I'm called to a meeting with you" Gent explained.
"I know you are a busy man Gent so I will cut to the point- the time has come for you to step down and retire Gent" Home Secretary Ede explained.
"What? But I've done nothing wrong" Gent said, concerned.
"Oh no, it's nothing bad. Your work has been phenomenal ever since we appointed you back in 1940. Why, the sheer speed at which you went up the ranks impresses even us high up in the government. That being said, nine years is long enough Gent and the time has come to pass on the torch; most of your predecessors usually served 5-10 years anyway so it is not that you are being singled out or anything" Secretary Ede explained.
"But if I am doing a good job, why must I step down?" Gent asked.
"Look, you've been with the police since 1920; you know how things work and you've made quite a name for yourself. Thing is though, a new generation of crime is starting to emerge. The people you have been dealing with are either dead, jailed or no longer making moves. And it's not just burglaries and murders- we're starting to see new kinds of crime that not even you dealt with during your time on the force. So, the time has come to bring on someone new; a fresh face if you will. Someone the criminals don't know as well as you. Someone who can take the Metropolitan police in a new direction and take this new generation of crime by surprise." Secretary Ede explained.
"I... suppose that is fair" Gent conceded.
"Again, it is absolutely nothing personal... it's just with a new generation comes a change in leadership. That's all it is. Will 30 days be enough to get your affairs in order? Rest assured, your successor has already been selected, and he is a fine man, ready to lead the next phase of the fight against crime" Secretary Ede assured.
"Yes sir; I will have my affairs in order by then. Thank you for at least being straight with me and not beating around the bush" Gent said as he went to leave"
"It's all right Gent; rest assured you will be remembered as one of the finest Commissioners this police force has ever had" the Home Secretary assured.
"I prefer Chief if that is all right with you; rolls off the tongue better" Gent explained as he finally left the room.
......
"And so the time has come for me to move on with my life. I was hoping you may be able to help me clean out my office" Gent asked.
"Ok old friend; it's the least I can do to help out" Gunnarson said, accepting that there was nothing he could do about this situation.
|
|
|
Post by frankthetriviaman on Apr 17, 2017 11:43:57 GMT -5
So after some thinking it over, I think I got it figured out-
He does retire as police commissioner; but he is given the option to stay on as a Superintendent. Gent accepts and is given time off before he decides to return to work.
One of the key things that makes him retire? Well, Ede may mention that in the wake of the Complex shootout, the ballistic evidence relating to Dr Drugg yielded some interesting findings- and they feel that it is best for Gent to step down while he is still seen as a good man, rather than to be forced to retire with a smeared reputation for blatantly disregarding legal procedure.
Once I write this out, I promise it will make more sense.
|
|
|
Post by Toz76 on Apr 24, 2017 18:47:05 GMT -5
I updated the opening post to show our future plans. I left 14 open for tug if he wants it, if not, tradition demands the one right before a multiple of five is a Stein adventure (although we can discontinue that tradition if you all want). I also moved Funeral Fog up to 17 since the multiples of five are meant to be the "big" ones, and should be focused on Gunnarson. The earliest I could fit Titanic in was 16, I'm afraid.
|
|
|
Post by Biblically Accurate Angel on Apr 24, 2017 20:29:30 GMT -5
Thanks Toz. I edited the description for LM 11 because I changed the plot around my head a bit. If Tug has no ideas for LM 14, could we move Funeral Fog up? It isn't a Gunnarson novel, and I'm kinda looking forward to it. Or the Titanic one, maybe.
|
|
|
Post by Tug on Apr 24, 2017 21:44:27 GMT -5
I have an idea for 14, don't you guys worry
|
|
|
Post by Toz76 on May 4, 2017 23:58:17 GMT -5
LM25??
APRIL 26, 1992
From a young age, Maisie Branwell had always wanted to be a detective.
A young obsession with the likes of Holmes and Christie inspired her, and you'd often find her traipsing about the neighborhood with a magnifying glass and trench coat, pretending she was tracking the Hound of the Baskervilles.
Her neighbor, an old man named Mr. Hartley, encouraged this behavior. In his youth, he had been friends with legendary detective Adolf Gunnarson, and Maisie had spend many rainy spring days in his parlor with a cup of tea listening to the Beatles on the radio while he regaled her with tales of Gunnarson using his sleuthing skills to thwart corrupt cops, pacifist drug dealers, white supremists, Irish gangsters, Nazi scientists, horrific prostitution rings (that one he saved until she was older), and everything in between.
Despite her parents telling her she'd never make it, she did indeed, and made it to a major police academy in Scotland studying field forensics, graduating salutorian and getting a paid internship at Scotland Yard, the very same department the famous Chief Gent had once served in back when steam trains, tobacco, and entirely male police forces were the norm.
She kept in touch with Hartley while she was in college. He viewed her as the daughter he always wanted, "a damn sight less irresponsible than the real deal!" Zoie Hartley had been estranged from Mr Hartley since his wife and her mother died. Maisie barely remembered Mrs. Hartley, she had only been 5 when she passed.
Age was slowly setting in, and Hartley had been prescribed painkillers to deal with a constant headache with no discernable causes. He often complained about it in his letters. "They put opium in these things now! The stuff dangerous criminals I met, like Blade and Davidson, smuggled in from other countries for ludicrous black market profit!"
When Maisie returned home from college, her mother and father welcomed her with apologetic, but sincere, congratulations. Her brother Lawrence was off with his band somewhere. Maisie didn't mind though, it gave her an excuse to sneak off to visit Hartley instead of listen to him rattle on about "distortion" and "P7 chords" and "Curt Cocaine".
But when she entered the old house (using the spare key under the welcome mat), she immediately knew something was off. A strong smell filled the air, a smell she recognized from Hartley's stories and academy training.
The smell of death.
Running into the kitchen, her worst fears were confirmed. Hartley lay dead on the table, an open canister of painkillers on the table next to him. His body was still warm, meaning he had to have died in the past six hours. She quickly called the police, and a cop car was there in 20 minutes.
An officer examined the body. "Yep, he's got so much opium in his blood it's not even funny. Classic drug overdose. Poor guy probably forgot these were dangerous."
"I don't believe that for a second." Maisie said.
The officer turned. "Branwell, isn't it? Starting at Gent Memorial Police Center Monday?"
"Yes sir."
"Well, lesson one, cadet," the officer said sternly, "this is called a field blood test. This red line is where the level of opium in his blood should be, this blue line is where it is. Clearly an overdose."
"He wasn't senile. He would never overdose on purpose either."
"Then maybe he misread the label."
"But-"
"Look, kid, I know it's hard to accept, but sometimes, bad things happen to good people who don't deserve it. It was a tragic accident."
Maisie nodded. But in her heart she knew. Hartley was too in control of his mental faculties to just overdose. There were lots of people who wanted him dead- people connected to Gunnarson. It would be all too easy to murder him and make it look like an accident.
"I will avenge you, Hartley." She whispered.
|
|
|
Post by frankthetriviaman on May 19, 2017 1:40:00 GMT -5
Because it is a Chekhov's gun; I'm wondering if we should consider a scene like this for the future- if anything, because mentioning it but not doing anything with it is rather...anti-climactic. So to clarify- this could be how they meet their end; or it could be an incident that they escape from, we will have to wait and see. For now, here is a draft
.........
Escorted into a lavish dining room, Blade and his syndicate were seated at a table and first treated to wine and hors d'oeuvres while waiting for their hosts to arrive.
"I wonder what is taking Mr. Bremmin so long? He said that he had a very interesting proposition to discuss with us?" Blade asked aloud.
"My sincerest apologies sir; it seems our host has gotten delayed; I shall go and retrieve him" the steward said as he went to retrieve the host. Once out of the room... all of the doors were quickly, but quietly barred and locked, and special seems planted around the doors to seal them.
From behind a special two-way mirror, Ryan O'Connor had an evil grin as he prepared his revenge against Blade for his betrayal back in 1946.
The signal was given, and the phosgene canister was opened. It seeped within the room, and within a matter of minutes, all of the members were experiencing some combination of the symptoms- Coughing, Burning sensation in the throat and eyes, Watery eyes, Blurred vision, Difficulty breathing or shortness of breath, Nausea and vomiting.
"Struggle all you want, but the room is sealed and you've got no where to run" O'Connor thought to himself as he saw the syndicate struggle.
|
|
|
Post by frankthetriviaman on Jun 7, 2017 12:27:50 GMT -5
To be inserted into a future LM
......
Gent and Gunnarson made their way to a house. Knocking on the door, Gent looked to Gunnarson. "Thank you for coming with me- I needed a witness for this" Gent explained.
"My pleasure Gent; but what are we doing here?" Gunnarson asked.
Just then. The door opened. "Ah, Gent, finally. Everything is ready to go" the gentleman said.
"Gunnarson this is Michael Wargrave; he was the prosecutor to the Drugg case. But what you are about to see must never leave this house" Gent explained.
Gunnarson nodded, then we entered the parlor.
"The fire is ready... and I have doused the papers in the strongest liquor I could find" Wargrave explained.
"What are we doing, exactly?" Gunnarson asked. Gent then explained how Wargrave was tasked to hold onto Drugg's last existing set of notes and to destroy them when the time was right.
"I see... let us get it over with then" Gunnarson replied.
Wargrave, Gent and Gunnarson each took a part of the stack, and one by one threw the notes into the fire. They watched the fire consume the papers until nothing remained but ash.
"It is done... Dr. Drugg's legacy is dead. His notes are gone, and any cocktails that do exist were either seized or have gone bad by now. Gunnarson, the city is just a little bit safer tonight; thank you for coming" Gent said.
"Glad to help" Gunnarson said, before the two men left and bid their farewells to Mr. Wargrave.
Wargrave smiled as he proceeded to go upstairs and go to bed. "It's over... its all over. Those notes will never harm anyone, ever again" he thought to himself
Dr. Gunther Drugg... a name that is legendary among the London criminal underground. And now, that is all he is... a legend, and a name. There were no more notes, and no more cocktails. The cocktails of Dr. Drugg were powerful in their own way, but now, were just a legend, like that of Greek Fire.
|
|
|
Post by Biblically Accurate Angel on Jun 8, 2017 15:23:11 GMT -5
Anti-climactic to say the least.
|
|
|
Post by frankthetriviaman on Jun 8, 2017 15:34:10 GMT -5
It's a draft.
Besides, a scene like this is necessary. Going back to LM 8; the purpose of my epilogue was to "close the Drugg case" permanently and for good. No notes, no cocktails, just a legend.
But whatever inspired that epilogue you came up with, now that has to be accounted for. With this scene, it now accomplishes what was supposed to happen in LM 8- the permanent closure of the Drugg case.
In a nutshell, with the notes destroyed and the cocktails either destroyed or no good anymore, Drugg's cocktails become a legend in the same sense as Greek Fire.
|
|
|
Post by Biblically Accurate Angel on Jun 8, 2017 16:37:32 GMT -5
I had plans though. Plus, this was my way of saying, "We wrapped up everything in the story - why should one person go back and write something more to it?" And like I said, I had plans.
|
|
|
Post by frankthetriviaman on Jun 8, 2017 16:55:54 GMT -5
Actually, we didn't wrap everything up.
Whenever I write epilogues, it is to wrap up plot points that were never fully finished within the main body of the story, or story structure prevented these points from being covered in the main body.
Besides, Wargrave only has a rudimentary understanding of the diagrams of these notes, the notes themselves are coded with a cipher that died with Drugg. In other words- to an outsider, the notes are useless.
But I am curious- what kind of plans did you have in mind?
|
|
|
Post by frankthetriviaman on Jun 8, 2017 17:07:14 GMT -5
So Tug and I were talking the other day, and there's some big news to share... coming soon, we will be writing a prequel to Literary Mosaic, featuring one of the most notorious characters in our roster... Dr. Gunther Drugg.
What is the story behind this man? How did Dr. Mengele's protege come to the United Kingdom? Why was he working in Broadmoor? Why did he have connections to the Blade Syndicate and The Black Scorpion?
All this and more, to be revealed in...
The Undercover Doctor
BTW, this is a working title; I don't know what the final one will be yet
|
|
|
Post by Biblically Accurate Angel on Jun 8, 2017 17:28:27 GMT -5
Actually, we didn't wrap everything up. Whenever I write epilogues, it is to wrap up plot points that were never fully finished within the main body of the story, or story structure prevented these points from being covered in the main body. Besides, Wargrave only has a rudimentary understanding of the diagrams of these notes, the notes themselves are coded with a cipher that died with Drugg. In other words- to an outsider, the notes are useless. But I am curious- what kind of plans did you have in mind? Wwell I was planning it on being a surprise for a future novel...
|
|