u/Reasonable-Claim7887

I've recently started writing my first crime thriller novel and would really appreciate some honest feedback on the opening. Ive currently wrote around 10,000 words so far but this is the first two chapters.

I'm particularly interested in whether the opening hooks you, whether the pacing works, and whether you'd actually want to continue reading. Thanks

(I tried adding the document onto here but couldnt work out how, so ive just copy and pasted the first two chapters instead)

PART 1

Chapter 1

2:12 am

‘’911, what’s your emergency?’’

‘’Good evening. I’d like to report a homicide’’

‘’Can you tell me your address?’’

‘’Yes, it’s the Westwood Building, Liberty Street, Lower Manhattan, just off Wall Street’’

‘’Okay, can you tell me what’s happened?’’

‘’Yeah, he’s been stabbed around 20 to 25 times, I’m not too sure, I lost count after 12’’

‘’…….err what do you mean you lost count after 12? Did you see who killed him?’’

‘’No’’

‘’Then how do you know?’’

 

‘’Because I did it….’’

 

Chapter 2

 

Detective Ethan Cole woke up to the flashing screen and vibrations of his cell phone.

3:42am.

Groggy. His eyes barely open. He groans, reaches over and answers it.

‘‘Cole?!’’

‘’Ethan, it’s Jimmy, you awake?’’

Ethan didn’t know if Jimmy was taking the piss out of him or if his question was serious. Of course, he hadn’t been awake. Who the fuck was awake at 3:42am? Nobody decent, that’s who.

‘’Yeah, yeah, I’m up, what’s the problem?’’

‘’Get yourself down to Liberty Street buddy, we’ve got a fresh one’’

Ethan sat up and rubs the sleep from his eyes. He’s tired but he’s worked enough homicides to know that a call in the middle of the night means this isn’t going to be a normal run of the mill case.

 ‘’Yeah, no problem, I’ll be on my way now’’

‘’ Ethan?’’

‘’Yeah?’’

Jimmy pauses.

‘’Just a heads up, prepare yourself, this one is different’’

 

That had got Ethan’s attention, and he dragged himself out of bed. He stood a little over six feet tall, his athletic frame the result of years spent in the boxing gym. A heavy bag hung in the corner of his apartment, still taking a beating whenever work gave him the time. He missed those days sometimes. The training. The fights. The simplicity of it all.

He stumbled towards the bathroom to brush his teeth. The stubble on his face could wait. He wasn't shaving this morning. He grabbed the first white shirt he could find, threw on a loosely fitted tie and headed for the door. He didn't bother checking the mirror.

 

Twenty minutes later, Ethan pulled up outside the Westwood Building on Liberty Street. One thing he'd always appreciated about living in Brooklyn was that, at three in the morning Manhattan was only a short drive away.  Not that he had much of a habit driving into Manhattan at this time of the morning.

Under the gaze of his trilby stood James Diaz, waiting at the entrance. ‘’Jimmy’’ to his friends, he stood no taller than five seven on a good day. But today wasn’t a good day. He took one last drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling beneath the brim of his hat and staining his dark moustache. He dropped the cigarette to the pavement and stamped it out. He tried to greet Ethan with his usual large smile, but he could only offer a small one. There was something different about him this morning and Ethan could spot it a mile off.

 

Ethan smiled back. ‘’Morning partner, you okay?’’ Jimmy had spent more than fifteen years working homicide with the New York Police Department. He'd seen shootings, stabbings and enough death to last several lifetimes. For him to look like this... whatever waited upstairs had shaken him.

 

‘’Yeah, I’m okay buddy’.’’ The look on his face told another story.

‘’Jesus…. that bad, Jimmy?’’

Jimmy shook his head ‘’Just come with me you’ll see’’

The pair walked through the reception lobby in silence, this worried Ethan, Jimmy was never this quiet, even at 4 in the morning. What the hell was waiting for him? The quiet gave Ethan time to take in the building, everything inside screamed money and wealth, the two toned brown and light grey marble flooring, the mirrored ceilings, the leather furniture and the fresh smell of flowers and perfume lingered in the air. Even the security guard was wearing a fully custom three-piece suit.

They entered the elevator and Jimmy pressed floor eight - Grayshon Financial Partners.

As the lift began to ascend, Ethan couldn't shake the feeling he'd seen the company's name before. The name sat in Ethan’s mind. But he couldn’t place it.

‘Grayshon Financial Partners? Why does this name seem so familiar?’

The journey in the elevator was met with the same silence as the walk through the reception. Jimmy didn’t say a word. Ethan didn’t mind. He was too busy trying to think where he had seen the name Grayshon Financial Partners before.

Had it been on the news? A billboard? An old case file?

No.

It was something else.

 

The elevator chimed, they had reached the floor eight. Forget it Ethan, I’m sure you’ll remember the name later on, you’ve got a job to do now. The elevator doors opened and both detectives stepped out. The open-plan office was deserted. Hours earlier it would have been filled with ringing phones, the clicking computer keyboards and the smell of coffee. Now there was nothing. Jimmy finally broke the silence. ‘’Follow me, he’s in one of the back offices.’’

As they went round the corner, Ethan could start to hear a little bit of commotion. He recognised the familiar sounds straight away.

Quiet intricate conversations.

Camera shutters clicking.

Latex gloves snapping into place.

It was the familiar sound of a crime scene. He’d been to hundreds in his career.

 

They followed the noise until they reached one of the executive offices. The sign on the door read:

 

Timothy McGrath

Vice President

Grayshon Financial Partners.

 

Jimmy opened the door and Ethan looked inside to what had been waiting for him.

Ethan froze and just stared.

‘’……Fucking hell!!’’