Thrill City by Leigh Redhead Read Free Book Online

Why did you choose crime? Why did you change midstream, so to speak?’
    ‘I’m glad you asked me that, Phillip.’ Her voice was soft, cultured. ‘I was really intrigued with the possibility of playing around with such a rigid and, let’s face it, clichéd genre. I wanted to ignore the conventions and experiment with the—’
    ‘Crime fiction is the conventions,’ Nick said. ‘You can twist them but you can’t ignore them. And since when did you decide to write a bloody crime book? Last I knew you were trying your hand at erotica.’ He pulled a silver hip flask out of his briefcase-style bag and started refilling his glass. The tuts grew louder. No hiding what was in there now.
    Isabella smiled in a humble, friendly way that put the crowd on her side and made Nick look bad. ‘I actually worked on my book, Thrill City , for a year as part of my master’s thesis. The title itself suggests a trashy, hard-boiled pulp novel, but that’s intentionally misleading. There are no anxieties resolved in my work because I challenged the detective hermeneutic and broke the rules. I mean, why do you need an investigative figure? Why must the crime be solved? I’m very proud of Thrill City and feel I’ve really experimented with the form.’
    Nick gulped his drink and rolled his eyes. ‘Experimented yourself into the remainder bin, most likely.’
    More tuts, a couple of gasps, and one ‘well I never’ emanated from the crowd, and Cummings dabbed sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. Rod gave Nick a squinty look and flexed the tendons in his fingers like he was about to spring up out of his chair, but Isabella put one dainty hand on his forearm and shook her head sweetly. Her nail polish was a deep red-wine with a hint of brown, a shade that I’d been trying to get hold of for ages. I glanced over to the front row and saw Liz pinch the bridge of her nose.
    Rod’s jaw worked, but he stayed put and defended his lady’s honour with praise. ‘I’ve read Thrill City , and although it was a bit deep for a regular guy like me, I can tell you this: it’s a masterpiece. I like to think of myself as a wordsmith, but Bella . . . Who would imagine that such a beautiful princess could also write like an angel?’
    Nick snorted and gave Isabella a look that seemed to say, ‘Where did you find this chump?’
    Cummings jumped in. ‘Well, certainly some heated debate and a lot of food for thought. I’d like to finish off the panel with a short reading from each of the panellists, then open up the floor for questions. Nick, if you’d like to start?’
    Nick fumbled in his bag for his latest novel and read out a scene in which his hero got drunk, ended up in bed with one of the aforementioned femmes fatales, then got knocked unconscious by some bad guys right in the middle of the act. After meeting Nick, I couldn’t help but imagine Zack Houston as looking exactly like him.
    When Nick was finished, Rod recited a tale of incredible derring-do that involved Chase Macallister jumping from a helicopter onto a skyscraper to save his girlfriend—a perky part-time model and full-time astrophysicist—from a group of Muslim separatists.
    Nick didn’t try to hide his contempt, shaking his head, swigging from his glass, and occasionally snorting. When Thurlow finished, Nick mimed a yawn, laying it on so thick that Isabella couldn’t pretend to ignore him any longer.
    ‘He’s just jealous,’ she told Rod and the rest of the crowd. ‘I think the passage has a wonderful, exuberant energy.’
    ‘Thank you, darling. Some critics have called my plots a bit far-fetched, but I don’t think so if you look at what’s happening in the world today. The terrorist threat we all face is terrifyingly real. I have to say that I draw a lot on my experiences as a soldier—although I can’t tell you the precise details. That’s classified information.’
    Cummings opened his mouth to say something, but Nick butted in: ‘You know, I wasn’t