Reece Pocock, crime writer, said Boris of Adelaide – has great insight into human affairs and a powerful imagination, and in this engaging set of short stories he turns his observant eye on many facets of human behaviour. A man attempts to escape from his paedophile father in the only way he knows how; the victim of a frame-up wreaks an Old Testament revenge; two cops make the mistake of their lives; a killer’s manic behaviour has consequences for an innocent youth; a woman is unexpectedly saved from sudden death; a young man finds a way back to his father after a period of alienation; a wronged man discovers that revenge has its own consequences; a private eye in the Sam Spade mode unsuccessfully tries to outsmart a wily client; a man loses self-control; true love succeeds in conquering all; a married couple finally share a guilty secret long unrevealed between them; children learn not to judge a book by its cover; one young man’s misinterpretation of a scenario has terrible consequences for another; a man finds himself outplayed by a woman with dreams of a happy marriage; two farmers drolly discover the unremitting cycle of country life. Pocock writes with wit and compassion and his stories flow effortlessly.
Evil in the City, is made up of 14 short stories, most are about crime, but not all. The Girl in the Red Beret, won the Burnside short story contest, – a man is inadequate with women who can’t understand why the girls he admires end up dead. What a Dirty Little Town – conveys the story of Luke who returns after being jailed for 15 years for a crime he did not commit. He immediately sets out to clear his name. Disposable – is about a killer who must decide what to do with a dead body. Last number Redial – a child must save his mother after she has fallen and hit her head. My Father – a university student becomes embroiled in controversy and can’t find his way through until his father rescues him. The Classy Dame – the attractive woman asks private detective Spike Mallet to find her sister. But this classy dame is not telling the whole story.
There are many more stories with twists to entertain the reader.
Some innate compulsion forced me to stand at my flat window every morning to watch as a girl walked down the street. Nothing made me miss the moment, not even the phone going crazy. I was often late for work. I couldn’t have cared less. I had to watch as she walked down a decline to disappear around the corner.
A few times, I watched at the end of her day’s work. She trudged uphill, whereas in the morning, she floated down the footpath to meet the day. It’s a sight I thought about at work as well as alone in my flat.
I didn’t even know the girl’s name or where she worked. She answered all those age-old questions of what makes a woman beautiful. Ah! Now she’s a woman. You see, I’m in a quandary of whether she’s a girl or a woman; maybe on the cusp is more accurate. It’s an indefinable point when girls become women. Not biologically or any mundane definition. This girl had zest and attitude as she confronted life head on.