Early drafts of The Red Villa

I

One hour beyond sunset, Horatio Marx, a villain and horticulturalist of legend, committed suicide with a revolver.

At the time of his untimely end, he was under house arrest at his estate of Los Talas on the pampas of Argentina.

A single bullet was found in his heart; no single tear was shed as he crossed his Styx.

This garden variety suicide had one irregular kink: Two cops nearby reported two shots that nightly night.

What’s more, the other bullet wasn’t found.

Gary Chevalier, a detective with great muscle of mind, is bidden from Buenos Aires to find the missing bullet, thereby closing this high-profile case.

Our tale begins beneath the endless rows of eucalyptus…

…with a single bloom.
II

Do you remember gazing upon the garden? Surely you recall your secret mania for Marx’s roses. How hypnotic they were.

After three days of searching you return to the decaying villa of Los Talas.

Los Talas: lost atlas.

III

The bullet was not missing after all. It was just adrift in time, off course.

Or on a long course. A course that can’t be described in a straight line. Or a digressing course. A course full of digressions that multiply to the point that even Time loses its way. Marx didn’t hide the bullet so much as the time surrounding it.

The bullet is fated and inevitable: It’s meant for me.

©Michael Mills 2003