exerpt from my novel - Deadly Nightshade

1st book in the trilogy - Trephining

Cynthia was warming to some arcane idea. Said, "Do you know the theory that many criminals SEEK death? They climb toward it all their lives, perhaps because of something in their pasts. They actually want to be caught and punished. They want to be set free from the demons in their minds. They need death, Mr. Dexter."
She was preoccupied with death.
"I have heard that one but I leave the definitions to the psychologists."
"A poet I know penned these lines;
'I have a rendezvous with Death
which no one can deny,
I mustn't keep the gateman waiting,
I must be there on time.'
It is exactly about death wish."
"Your friend has a death wish?"
"Sadly, I believe that may be so." Her mouth turned down.
Who was this morbid friend? Was she going to try to convince me that Darlene Parkinson had a death wish?
She continued, "It may be what compels a criminal to remain in the bank long enough for the police to arrive. You see, subconsciously, he KNOWs there'll be a shootout, knows he must die. He waits too long on purpose."
"Death by cop? Incredible, not in that situation," I scoffed, "he wants to get away and spend the money. Buy drugs."
"No, that's what WE think he wants to do, down deep he has to face death. He doesn't know why himself but he has to do it."
"Because he's too chicken to face life?"
"Are you familiar with Shakespeare? Listen to this quote from Caesar; ‘Cowards die many times before their deaths, the valiant never taste of death but once.’"
"So bank robbers are valiant now?"
"Courage takes many forms, Mr. Dexter. A definition for every mind."
"I'm just trying to solve what I think has been a terrible crime. And your best friend Darlene is dead."
"I hope you have the courage to solve it, Mr. Dexter, when the time comes. If there was a crime."
"I know I do. And I know there was."
She arose to leave, "I hope you're not disappointed, I wouldn't want to see you miss getting your just rewards. There comes a time of crisis in everyone’s life when you need to ask of yourself, at that inscribed moment when you are cut; Which is more? This stream of my own blood? Or the waters of the four oceans?"
She laughed lightly and I realized what had changed so drastically about her in the last few seconds. Her eyes had faded from the blue to a very pale green, a cloudy celadon gray-green. They were beautiful. As she left the restaurant I thought maybe, just maybe, they were telling me something after all.

© RC Westerholm