conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know a plot for a book about Straw, American, McDonald's entitled The Straw Men?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Straw Men: The Straw Men is a book about serial killers.\nIt opens with a scene set in a small American town, where a duo of gunmen open fire in a busy McDonald's fast food franchise.\nThe remainder of the book jumps between two storylines.\nThe first is a first person narrative piece telling us about Ward Hopkins, a young man going home to bury his parents after they suffered a car accident.\nHe encounters a video tape in the family home that suggests that maybe they are still alive.\nInvestigations are pursued with and things quickly spiral as they typically tend to do.\nA friend who happens to be a CIA operative is enlisted to provide someone to crack wise with.\nThe second strand is in conventional third person and concerns John Zandt, an ex-homicide detective who is persuaded to come out of early retirement since it appears that the psycho who abducted his daughter has found another victim.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Delete the first sentence.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: \nIt opens with a scene set in a small American town, where a duo of gunmen open fire in a busy McDonald's fast food franchise.\nThe remainder of the book jumps between two storylines.\nThe first is a first person narrative piece telling us about Ward Hopkins, a young man going home to bury his parents after they suffered a car accident.\nHe encounters a video tape in the family home that suggests that maybe they are still alive.\nInvestigations are pursued with and things quickly spiral as they typically tend to do.\nA friend who happens to be a CIA operative is enlisted to provide someone to crack wise with.\nThe second strand is in conventional third person and concerns John Zandt, an ex-homicide detective who is persuaded to come out of early retirement since it appears that the psycho who abducted his daughter has found another victim.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know the first four paragraphs for this book? End with the sentence ' He'd met such people before who identified themselves with individuals in the Bible, be it Mary Magdalene or Job; after all, hadn't he called Huddle a Judas? Wasn't he hunting a child of Cain?'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: The Straw Men
  Athelstan gazed around the comfortable lower chamber of the Beauchamp Tower. Thibault had led them through the lines of hooded and visored archers and men-at-arms down the steps and into this very cavernous room with its hearth fire and numerous flickering candles. Thick tapestries cloaked the grey walls; straw matting and Turkey rugs warmed the flag stones, while the air was sweet with herb and spice smoke. Cranston was sitting to his right. Thibault, for his own personal reasons, stood behind them. Athelstan tensed as a woman came from behind the drapes which cordoned off the small enclosure that served as the bedchamber. She was dressed in the simple blue robe of a nun; a starched white wimple framed her face, which she kept half hidden behind a gloved hand as if pretending to scratch her forehead. She sat down on the leather-backed chair, blessed herself swiftly and glanced up, her hand no longer covering her face. Athelstan heard Cranston's swift intake of breath. The woman leaned forward, her small black eyes bright with curiosity as she stared fully at Athelstan.
  Her English was good but the accent was heavy and pronounced. She blinked furiously, a nervous gesture. Her hand dropped and she leaned forward again. Athelstan scrutinized her. She was dark skinned, her eyebrows finely etched, lips pushed together as if she was ready to kiss. She was comely enough, though the dark mulberry stain which marked the entire right side of her face could be clearly seen, emphasized by the starched white wimple.
  Mara, as she called herself, raised her hand and stroked the stain on her face. 'A birth mark,' she whispered, 'but when I saw the play...'
  Athelstan nodded sympathetically. He'd met such people before who identified themselves with individuals in the Bible, be it Mary Magdalene or Job; after all, hadn't he called Huddle a Judas? Wasn't he hunting a child of Cain?
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know four more paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Athelstan turned swiftly in his chair. Judith had quietly slipped through the door of St Peter's and was standing cloaked in the shadow of one of the pillars.
  Judith picked up a stool and sat down next to him. 'Father, I don't want to be shriven. Rachael and Samson have spoken to you?'
  Athelstan crossed himself, rose, genuflected towards the altar and left the chapel. He paused at the roaring from the menagerie which carried clear on the river breeze. Maximus! Athelstan made his way out into the inner bailey, down Red Gulley to St Thomas' Tower. The entrance door was guarded by men-at-arms; one of these, eager to escape the evening cold, said he would fetch the royal beastmaster. The latter soon appeared and, seeing it was Athelstan, beckoned the friar into the cavernous cage chamber now dimly lit by torch light which jumped and spluttered in the wet breeze. Athelstan noticed how the narrow aisle past the bars had been scrubbed clean though the air was fetid. The great snow bear was not active but lay sprawled in one corner. Athelstan walked the full length of the aisle then turned and came back. He paused to examine the bar around which the great clinking chain was secured. He scrutinized it carefully and realized how quickly someone could pull back the clasp and leave it loose.
  The beastmaster pointed to the door leading down to the wharf, then the great gate which Maximus would go through to swim in the moat.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Do you know the last five paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Once he had finished, Thibault, his face contorted in fury as Rosselyn's treachery was described, sat head down. Eventually he glanced up. 'I heard about the business in Flanders. I sent the Straw Men and other agents to hunt the rumours down – the rest is as you describe it, Athelstan. As for Rosselyn, he must have been suborned very recently, possibly in the early winter but, there again,' Thibault blinked and glanced away, 'I wonder how many of those who eat My Lord of Gaunt's bread act the Judas once darkness falls. I did wonder about the attack near Aldgate; perhaps that was Rosselyn's offering, a guarantee of his word to the Upright Men.'
  Within the hour Cranston and Athelstan had left the Tower and joined the noisy, colourful throng on the approaches to the bridge.
  John of Gaunt was the magnificent medieval prince as described in these pages. Like his brother, the Black Prince, he was a savage and ruthless soldier. The Siege of Limoges would, today, be regarded as a serious war crime. Gaunt lived in great splendour at the Palace of the Savoy (the site of the modern hotel). Of course when the Peasant's Revolt broke out and the rebels invaded London, they burnt this marvellous edifice to the ground. Gaunt was also a sinister figure, abrogating powers to himself above and beyond what Parliament decreed. He never entertained aspirations for the English throne, though his son, Henry of Lancaster, deposed Richard II in 1399, and so began that long and bloody conflict between the Houses of York and Lancaster.
  The leaders of the Peasant's Revolt, Grindcobbe et al, are as I describe in this novel. God rest their souls but, within a year, all of them were dead, either executed or killed in the savage repression which followed the Revolt. It is interesting to note that when the Revolt did break out in the summer of 1381, London Bridge was stormed and taken by force. In addition, the peasant rebels laid siege to the Tower of London. Unable to storm it, they gained, as described in this novel, admission through a traitor who let them in by a postern gate. Once in, they ransacked the royal apartments and executed leading ministers including the Archbishop of Canterbury. The Tower is as described in this novel. Many people think this great fortress was built to defend London. It wasn't. The Tower was always held by royal favourites and its main function was to serve as a royal palace as well as overawe the turbulent Londoners. Of course, some of the buildings described in my novel, such as the guest house and royal apartments, have long gone. The escapes mentioned in the novel did occur, the most successful being that of Roger Mortimer whom Edward II imprisoned there.
  Finally the mummers and London's underworld are, I believe, a fair reflection of the vividly turbulent London society though which Athelstan and his good friend Sir John Cranston moved and worked.