The Schizophrenic Kent Kensington Mystery Thriller

By Jake Ott

In this short story, James's unique type of schizophrenia causes him to hear voices in the form of an old 1920s detective novel, Kent Kensington. When James believes he is taking on the case of his new doctor, he risks everything to in his greatest adventure of all time. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jake Ott
• Release date: Nov 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393512806

Book preview

Everyone always presumed that James was guilty. Guilty of what? No one knew, but they were all certain of his guilt.

"Kent Kensington?"

I squinted through the black and white, smoke filled office. I knew that a new adventure was about to start because the pretty dame standing in my office gave me that damsel in distress look. Anytime a dame, especially a blonde dame with a cigarette hanging from her red lips, gave me that look, I knew that I was in for a ride.

James’ therapist had just walked into the office, her office. Hi James. I’m Dr. Kompur. You can call me Nadia though, if it makes you more comfortable.

You know, anytime a bitch like you walks into my office, I know it’s trouble. James pulled a loose cigarette out of the breast pocket of his unwashed and oversized shirt. Got a match?

No. Dr. Kompur was visibly offended by being called a bitch. "Because you can’t smoke in here, and this is my office. Do you know where you are James?"

She spun her tale of woe and sorrow, just like the hundreds I’d heard before. Mommy never loved her as much as her older, blonder, and all together prettier sister. Daddy expected too much of her. Worst of all, her husband was gone too much and came home too late stinking of too much perfume.

I’ll tell you what, James said. I can’t tell you if your man is a dog or not. I can’t tell you if he’s boozing around with some other cooze, but I can follow him for a few nights. See where he’s going and who he’s going with."

Excuse me? Dr. Kompur began to raise her voice, but James cut her off by standing up and putting a filthy finger to her lips, shushing her immediately.

I usually charge five bucks a day, plus expenses, but you look like a sweet one. So, I’ll just charge you twenty-five for the whole job. Flat rate. He dragged his finger away from her lips smearing her lipstick down her chin.

A lesser physician would have fled the room and, perhaps, quit the profession all together. The thought did enter Nadia’s mind for a split second. She thought about how much easier it would be to take a job counseling some middle school brat through their parents’ divorce, but she didn’t give it more than a second of her time.

Please, sit back down, James. She then added, And from now on, no more physical contact. Okay?

You got it sweet thing. I’m on the case. James sat back down.

Let’s start off with some simple questions, James. Can you give me your full name?

He looked at her confused for a second. Then, he chuckled. James Jackson.

My number one rule was to never give a desperate dame my real name. You never knew what they’d do with it.

Very good. And where are we James?

James didn’t answer. A vacant look came across his face as though he was looking at a city far off on the horizon burn to the ground. Nadia let him stare like this for nearly a minute. Then, unprompted James snapped his head and looked at her, as if just hearing someone say his name.

Oh yes. Sorry, Nadia. We’re in your office. What is this place called... Valley View Behavioral?

Nadia studied him for a second and was suddenly pleased that she hadn’t walked out. She was excited to work on such an interesting case.

And do you know why you’re here, James?

Yeah, I’m schizophrenic. I have been since I was like a little kid.

"Well, in your file it says that you’re here because you beat a gas station clerk for calling