In the Cross Fire
The uncovering of significant evidence, is the most significant part of this series of books The Kings Cross Sting. How we found the evidence, how the evidence fell into the story, well you have to start right at the beginning.
A few people, will recognize themselves however the story is in the author’s mind they say. I have dreamt, visualized, the information. Maybe even manifested to come to the surface.
If you think true crime has never been manipulated to report it? Why is there Whistleblowers. Many people find every day significant evidence only to fall on the dead ends.
Some like our story has focused on The Heiress, our reporter from 1975, Editor and chief journalist went missing in action.
How could we leave this undone. How could we allow this story to be lost and never reported.
To the many journalists that have put together books on The Heiress’s life had you ever wondered what The Heiress was working on at the time of disappearance in reality.
I am sure The Heiress like many Journalists could’ve been undercover. Exposing the real reason, why on earth this Journalist was taken, disappeared. Yet her remains have stayed hidden.
Where we on this story to begin with, no just putting a novel together.
It started out just like any novel, working through ideas putting pen to paper. Researching many of the items that I believed were icons within Australia and Sydney. Never the icon I did discover, a courageous reporter who was on a mission where most people had no idea what was happening behind the scenes. I believe The Heiress had a talent, to uncovering the truth.
However it wasn’t until we moved into Kings Cross on the ground in our undercover identity that we saw the real Kings Cross. The Kings Cross that is killing the area, the thugs, the lowlife’s that have our unemployment benefits and then deal drugs of a night.
Spending twelve months with these underhanded red barons on the ground, they all thought I was the crazy Madame. A great cover for most, as I worked of a night when the punters and the lights were happening then I would be going home sometimes when peak hour hit the roads in Sydney.
I learnt about the Kings Cross Currency from the first day we opened the doors. Realising then that my novel was taking on some of the characteristics I was writing about. I was also reading on the computer of a night, finding all the drug dealers on facebook. Not hard when they walk in your front door, ask to see the ladies then deal drugs.
I would enjoy seeing the working girls and the clients interact on facebook and down on the main strip the Golden Mile Kings Cross.
Where In the Cross Fire started was just some girls having a very Friday 13th, some graveyard dirt and a wish. We had a 40th birthday to celebrate. We added a touch of real Friday the 13th with some lovely roses from the cemetery as you would to celebrate a night like this.
Being undercover and an author, the drug barons and dealers knew all about me. As each time they came in from the beginning they were asking questions. I was an outsider, I was a straighty 180. I didn’t do drugs, however I was sitting in the premises where extortion, after extortion have happened. I didn’t know. I never knew about this type of action ever in my entire life.
They say things happen for a reason, however this novel In the Cross Fire is understanding how the drug system works in Kings Cross. How the drugs work not just in Kings Cross but for the distribution to many other places.
To start off with a cemetery, a crazy group of girls and then see the miracle that happened.
Have we solved a murder?
For many of the readers it is nice to get a background of where the author was at the time. The ideas that were going through the mind of the author as she was writing the books. This sometimes gives us an understanding about the novel that moves fiction into a more reality space which I believe In the Cross Fire deserves.
It was not just about a Madame in Kings Cross, however this Madame X, Editor of the Kings Cross Sting Newspaper for twelve months put up a show where no one really knew what she was doing.
Night after night, Black Jack a local drug dealer aboriginal, wears a jacket always when delivering drugs. Thick leather gloves, rubber surgical gloves, a hat that varies to cover the black fuzzy hair, full blown aboriginal. Six foot tall Black Jack stands, solid with a tummy that came, wears jeans. Sometimes an anklet, well a police tracking device. Serious convict, yet he walks and deals drugs on the strip at Kings Cross stays in the local hotel with some of the working girls.
Black Jack would come and ask me questions about where I had worked, what sort of person I was. My background, 13 court cases some from the Supreme Court to the Local Court all by jealous people. Having the courage to leave through 11 years of ridicule you learn a lot.
Through out this period in my life, I started 1990 going to the local council meetings. Wanting to learn more about what was happening in my area. My husband was asleep so were my children. I would go off for a night of adult stimulation. Learning about the Development Control Plans. Seeing how Council’s codes were shaping the area.
I was first learning about brothel’s when a brothel was placed in a residential environment. This brothel had many of the issues I have faced within my life with access blocked, with resident action groups formed to stop what a community service. Seeing Council in a different light, I was actively trying to change the development control plans to be more fair.
Living on the waterfronts, I realized that Jealousy was a problem that affected many people even home owners. This jealousy seemed to be targeted at the new comer on the block. Whether the development was moving to be better or to be no change, the residents would not see this. It would be the jealousy that would control the actions.
Even thou in Kings Cross the drug barons were interviewing me, it was the drugs themselves would blind them from reality. The jealousy was the fact that I didn’t need drugs. I didn’t think drugs were a necessity within a brothel situation.
At all times they would manipulate and move the drugs without me knowing. Well how do you stop it when the police won’t even do a drug raid when you beg.
This was the frustration, the significant evidence or the ability to not see that the drugs were moving into the buildings rather than on the strip.
How does anyone cope when the drugs are the problem, the low life, thugs that push themselves on a business where the Madame X says no.
Some of the drug barons, thought I knew nothing about what was happening around me. Others would tell you stories so you would think your partner was on drugs, just to find out that the Toxic coffee was the problem that they were setting us up.
This is the key, the brothel that fits the Hooked X Map as the alleged controlling arm of the drug network back in 1948, now in 2013 who controls? The Outlaw gang don't want it opened.