Background about
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.
WARNING.
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.
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