Espionage, double-dealing, death: Welcome to Spiked, a mystery novel

In Spiked, hard-nosed crime columnist Kris Redner finds herself unravelling a political mystery that may shake institutional Ottawa to its core. The corruption trial of a disgraced former Conservative cupboard minister could also be simply what she wants to jumpstart her profession, however Kris is shortly entangled in a secret world of espionage and ruthless political double-dealing. Who is the lady who falls to her demise from the roof of Kris’s condo constructing? How is she linked to what’s being billed because the political trial of the century? Here’s an excerpt – the primary in our August Intrigue native mystery e-book collection – to whet your urge for food.

Ottawa author Randall Denley is a columnist for the Ottawa Citizen and National Post, and the creator of 4 earlier novels, together with the debut Kris Redner mystery, One Dead Sister.

When I awakened, a dream about Sonny Sandhu was nonetheless recent in my thoughts. I used to be interviewing Sandhu, which made sense as a result of I’m a newspaper columnist, however why have been we ingesting white wine at a restaurant beside a lake? The lake regarded acquainted, however I wasn’t positive if it was from actual life or different desires. It was a sizzling day with a stiff breeze and energy boats have been bobbing and clunking towards the docks of the marina that the restaurant missed. Gulls circled overhead.

I didn’t bear in mind a phrase Sandhu had mentioned within the dream, simply how he regarded. He was a putting man with intense eyes, pores and skin the color of darkish chocolate, good white tooth and hair that had been fastidiously mussed, then gelled in place. Sunglasses have been perched atop his head and he wore a white linen shirt. When he reached out and ran his hand slowly alongside my forearm, I awoke.

I lay in mattress, not fairly wanting to let the dream go, though I discovered it disturbing. I used to be flushed, as if the second had been actual. I had by no means met Sandhu and now I used to be having a borderline intercourse dream in regards to the man, and this on the day after I was going to be protecting his trial.

I used to be assured front-page play within the Ottawa Citizen daily, however I hadn’t written a phrase in months and now I’d be churning out tales on deadline. Somehow I used to be supposed to as soon as once more change into Kris Redner, star crime columnist.

When I used to be on a main story, I usually felt just like the characters invaded me, took over my thoughts, and lived with me 24 hours a day. Although at the moment was my first official day again at work, I had spent weeks researching Sandhu, studying each phrase written about him and each image and video clip. They informed a story that was perplexing and completely out of sync with the mess Sandhu discovered himself in now.

Sonny Sandhu was about so far as one may get from the sort of deadbeats and losers I normally coated within the Ottawa courts. The member of Parliament from Brampton had been a media star and the brand new face of the Conservative Party. Sandhu was charming, fast with a quote, an entrepreneur and an immigrant. He was a pollster’s dream and it didn’t damage that he regarded like a Bollywood star. Conservatives noticed him as a saviour who may rescue Canada from the charming Liberal prime minister.

And then Sandhu had received into a mess of a very stunning variety. In Ottawa, when a politician received into hassle, it was normally as a result of he had expensed too many limos or made a drunken go at a colleague. Sandhu was accused of taking cash from a couple of enterprise guys to grease the trail to federal grants for a windmill mission that gave the impression of a rip-off from the get go. The mystery was why he did it, if he did. Sandhu was a wealthy man and all of this was over twenty-five grand.

The trial on affect peddling costs promised to provide the sort of leisure that had been enticing to the general public for the reason that days of the guillotine. My job was to ensure that it did. I used to be assured front-page play within the Ottawa Citizen daily, however I hadn’t written a phrase in months and now I’d be churning out tales on deadline. Somehow I used to be supposed to as soon as once more change into Kris Redner, star crime columnist. Colin, the editor, had informed me it might be like using a bicycle. I wasn’t so positive.

I shook my head to clear away the remnants of the Sandhu dream. At least it was a welcome change from my regular dream, the one the place males with weapons have been chasing me via gloomy woods. I at all times awoke from that one simply earlier than they caught me. Too unhealthy it hadn’t labored that method in actuality.

I rolled off the bed and mechanically reached to the evening desk for my cigarettes, then remembered that I used to be making an attempt to give up. I had gone six days with out a smoke. Not precisely a file, however a small step. Recently, small steps had been the one ones I had taken. After 20 years of protecting crime in Toronto and Ottawa, I had thought I used to be robust, perhaps even invincible. Then I went again to my hometown within the Adirondacks in a quest to get some justice for my sister Kathy, who had been murdered after I was nonetheless a baby. I discovered that my little city had been taken over by males of overwhelming ambition, males who thought-about me an irritant to be eradicated. Let’s simply say that issues didn’t finish effectively, and I had spent the final eight months determining of I may nonetheless be me.

I stepped into yesterday’s shorts and pulled on a T-shirt, then padded to the lounge, the hardwood flooring of the condo chilly on my toes. As traditional, Ranger was whimpering on the door. The canine had a bladder the dimensions of a thimble. If I didn’t soar to it the minute he began to complain, he simply let unfastened on the rug.

Like the condo, Ranger was a loaner. Both belonged to my pal Caroline Malloy, a CBC reporter who wanted somebody to home sit in a hurry when she had been posted to Syria. Never having owned a pet, I didn’t fairly perceive that it was like having a baby, one other selection I had by no means made. When Caroline had supplied me the chance to transfer in, it had regarded like a fast and sleek method to cease residing with Colin. Ranger had been the one hitch. At the time, exchanging a troublesome lover for a troublesome pet had appeared a good swap, however I hadn’t taken into consideration Colin’s superiority within the space of continence.

The upside was that in my worst instances, Ranger’s regularity had gotten me out of the condo on days after I knew I wouldn’t even have gotten off the bed. I’d take him for a stroll at the moment earlier than heading to court docket, however I had to pull myself collectively first. I walked throughout the condo and opened the door to the tiny balcony. Ranger adopted, sticking his nostril out and sniffing the recent May air. I figured that if he was actually determined, he may go on the balcony and I may discreetly wash it off later.

I headed to the toilet to see if I may begin to make myself look human, and to assess the harm from final evening’s bottle of cabernet sauvignon. I knew I ought to cease ingesting, however I had already given up smoking and, apparently, intercourse. I had to maintain at the very least one vice.

I discovered that the world at all times regarded greatest after I was trying down on it from above, observing it however not likely a part of it.

I relieved myself, then stood and regarded within the mirror. I noticed a 40-year-old lady with garish, dyed-red hair reduce brief sufficient in order that I may run my fingers via it and be prepared to go. It was my new look. I actually wasn’t cute or fairly, however I had generally been known as good-looking. I had by no means been positive if that was a good factor. I pulled on the little traces that have been beginning to type round my eyes, hoping that the pores and skin would bounce again. Maybe after a bathe.

For now, I’d accept a sturdy black espresso. I crammed the chrome steel kettle and put it on the gasoline range prime, then measured out the espresso from a bag I had purchased on the Bridgehead store on the bottom flooring of my constructing. The espresso was known as Bytown Boom and the bag assured me that it was each natural and pretty traded. I didn’t care so long as it had caffeine.

Once the water was boiled, I poured it via an previous Melitta drip, then tossed the used espresso filter within the sink, the place a number of of its predecessors have been composting. I’d have most well-liked the benefit of a Keurig, however Caroline was a type of sorts who thought that the world might be saved one unbleached espresso filter at a time. I’d met Caroline whereas protecting courts. Not even the parade of crooks and losers that we noticed daily had dimmed her sunny view of life. But then, Caroline was 25. Let’s see how a couple of a long time protecting human behaviour would have an effect on her.

Despite the highly effective scent of the recent espresso, I spotted that the kitchen had developed a little bit of a pong, maybe due to the rotting bananas on the counter and the two-day previous pizza field on the glass kitchen desk. Pong. That was considered one of Colin’s phrases. Sleep with a Brit and you ultimately begin speaking like one. But that was all previous tense now. I used to be fairly positive of that. Colin had a totally different thought.

I took my espresso out onto the balcony and settled into the one plastic chair. The air was nonetheless cool for May and I considered going again into the condo to get the fluffy white gown I had boosted from the Royal York, again when Colin and I used to meet there for intercourse. I’d respect the heat, however not the reminiscences. I actually ought to throw the factor out.

I seen that Ranger had left a moist spot on the nook of the balcony. That was one downside solved. I sipped my espresso and regarded on the scene six storeys beneath me. I discovered that the world at all times regarded greatest after I was trying down on it from above, observing it however not likely a part of it. I noticed a placid early spring Ottawa morning, sunny, stuffed with hope, the bushes simply beginning to inexperienced. People sat on the Bridgehead patio, sipping espresso and their units. On Elgin Street, workplace staff headed purposefully previous the bars, eating places and small outlets that lined the road, heading downtown to do one thing they thought was vital. Good for them. In an hour or two I’d strive to faux I used to be considered one of them.

I had simply introduced the espresso to my mouth after I noticed a lady’s face proper in entrance of me, adopted by flailing arms. For a split-second, she stared straight at me, a look of horror in her eyes, her mouth open in a silent scream. Long black hair streamed behind her. I jumped to my toes, the espresso cup falling from my hand and shattering on the balcony.

By the time I understood that she had fallen from the condo constructing’s roof simply above me, she was gone.

For extra details about this e-book, please go to:

Ottawa creator and columnist Randall Denley at a current e-book signing for his new mystery novel, Spiked, which follows a fictional Ottawa Citizen crime reporter.


What Randall Denley is studying…

“In a writing world dominated by novels and non-fiction, poetry has change into the forgotten baby, brevity the forgotten advantage. That’s why it was such a pleasure to uncover Taste Life Twice, a new assortment of poems by younger Ottawa author Jacqueline Bird. You can pattern her work on Instagram.”


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