John Fish B.Sc. Publishers of Tenby in Wales (UK)




Julie McAteer

e-mail: Julie McAteer










My Name is Julie McAteer, I live in the Merthyr Region of Wales. I have a completed novel ready to submit, titled "Broken Investigation".

The story concerns Kay, a private investigator on the brink of a serious drink problem. Her business is in jeopardy until she is offered an investigation "off the books" by a new client. Unfortunately her investigation unearths some issues from her past and the lives of her and the client become unexpectedly entwined. She discovers how dangerous her client is and what he capable of and needs to escape from him and his fellow men. My character has many faults, is by no means perfect which is why I feel a lot of people could relate to her behaviours and mind processes.

I studied private investigation myself at home via the Academy Of Professional Investigation, and decided to use what I learnt to help me with my book.

Please see attached Chapter One.





Sample Chapter

Chapter One

As I sat at my desk, with the ledger for the months expenditures in front of me a wave of panic and dread flooded my entire body; it started from the tips of my toes and swept up through my body and into my head.  The balance wasn’t looking good at all. I leant back in my squeaky swivel chair, put my hands to my face and let out a huge sigh, trying to still the thoughts flooding in an already troubled mind. I looked up and out of the window and ran my hands through my crinkly shoulder length blonde hair which really needed a good wash. It was an exceptionally sunny afternoon; the blue sky was filled with little white fluffy clouds, which drifted on by. I spotted an aeroplane high up, just a dot above the clouds. Oh! How nice it would be to jump on an aeroplane and escape to a foreign country somewhere. And consume a lot of alcohol.

“Ergh….!!” I exhaled and got up from my old wooden desk to get a better look out of the window. “But I haven’t got the money to go on a bloody holiday and get drunk have I.” I responded in a defeated tone of voice to my wishful thinking.  I would have been happy to settle for being a little bird on a branch at that moment. No bills, no complications, none of this rat race bullshit I despised so much.  Just a nest to build would be nice. I spotted a sparrow flying over to the tree on the other side of the road. It was after rush hour now, and the sun was shining into the apartments above the shops opposite. I watched this tiny sparrow, happily buoyant on the tree branch. I felt so unbelievably low.  I wanted to let go inside. I just wanted peace. But for someone like me, it was such a hard feat. I tried desperately to find these moments people spoke of, these moments of peace. Sometimes  I would watch nature  and sometimes it seemed as if I would find a slight moment of stillness and harmony but it wasn’t long before the demons of my mind would come flooding back to me like a violent

storm at sea, completely obliterating the small pool of tranquillity that had formed. Sometimes, it seemed, that a guardian Angel was trying hard to help me but failing miserably.  My office door suddenly opened behind me. Derrick, my assistant, peered round the door over in the direction of my empty desk and then startled himself as he saw me stood right behind the door. His forehead creased as he could see by the look on my face that all was not well.

“Mr Beardsley is here and he wants to talk to you” He said as he fiddled with the doorknob, a habit of his which really annoyed me. He fiddled when he was nervous. I tried to respond with a half smile but I have no idea why I bothered. Derrick could see right through it. It was his specialty to spot a faker in this business. The business of Private Investigation. More to the point, my business of Private Investigation which, by the looks of the ledger, was financially up the spout. Derrick, towering at over six foot, was still frowning at me,  and had now resorted to scratching his tight black curly hair, knowing that there was something wrong, but what he did not know, and right now I wasn’t going to even begin to tell him. He raised an eyebrow. I waved my hand as if to dismiss my thoughts and crossed the creaky wooden floor back to my desk.  

“Let him in Derrick, cheers.”

“Alright” he lingered for a moment and then turned and gently closed the door as I sat myself back down again. Sighing deeply again I tried to compose myself. The door opened and Mr Beardsley appeared. Now, Mr Beardsley was a middle aged man who always looked very smart in his suits and today was no exception. Today, his red polka dot tie stood out from his grey suit. His greying beard was always tidy and his bald head was always so shiny I just wanted to throw talcum powder over it.

“Mr Beardsley” I stood up and shook his hand. “Take a seat” I gestured to the old wooden chair in front of my desk.  People like Mr Beardsley always made me feel somewhat underdressed.  But I just couldn’t be suited and booted for this job all the time, it just wasn’t practical and it just wasn’t me.  I preferred to wear my jeans and tops, but if my clients didn’t like the way I dressed I couldn’t care less. I was in this business to provide them with results, not to give them a fashion show. Sometimes it was appropriate in certain surveillance situations, for example, watching an adulterous couple in an over priced cocktail bar in the city. Then you HAD to dress the part, so as not to stand out.

Mr Beardsley owned his own toy factory, and had suspected a few of his employees of theft and fraud. So I had sent in a couple of my boys to act as new employees in the hope collecting some inside information. But this one had been a hard case to crack. No one at the toy factory was talking.  Mr Beardsley had already been a client of mine a few years back when he experienced similar problems with another one of his businesses, and that one had been solved quite swiftly.

I had noticed that Mr Beardsley was looking rather awkward. Not his usual calm self. He was avoiding eye contact.

“What’s wrong?” I got to the point.

He shifted in his chair and clasped his hands. “I’m afraid I have some bad news Kay…I’m afraid I don’t have the money for the investigation.”

It wasn’t panic which flooded me this time. It was a torrent of anger, at him, and at me.

I leant forward and raised my eyebrows. “Come again?”

“I’m so sorry Kay, but the company has hit some financial difficulty, I’ve been looking at my books and, well, I was wondering if we could come to some sort of arrangement?” 

He was quite visibly nervous. The only financial arrangement I was interested in was the kind where I got paid. Quick. How could I have been so stupid as to have faith in him and agree to let him pay me further into the investigation? I normally took payment up front, and any extras required along the way if necessary. But so far I had received a grand total of £0 from Mr Beardsley. I sucked on my tongue and exhaled.

“What sort of arrangement?” I narrowly started at him. I spotted beats of sweat appearing on his forehead. He needed talcum powder.

“I was wondering” he gestured with his clasped hands, “If I could pay at a more lucrative time”

He made eye contact with me for a brief moment and then swiftly looked away and stared at my desk tidy, which, I really wanted to throw right at his face. The tension in the room was getting thicker by the second.

“What’s your idea of a more lucrative time?” I firmly and impatiently asked.

“Kay, I’m so sorry.” Mr Beardsley took out a hanky from his pocket to wipe away his sweat.

“I don’t want apologies, what the hell is going on here!” I was close to boiling point now. I needed him to get far away from me. I had never sworn at this man once, but I was close to showing him a darker side to my personality.

“Please Kay, I just need time to get the money together for you, maybe...”

“How long?” I cut in.

“6 months?” he feebly squeaked.

Shaking my head and biting my lip, I pointed at him. “Fuck you” I got up from my chair, strode over to the door and opened it for him. “Get out of my office, I’ll call the boys and pull them out of your warehouse.”

“Please Kay, Please listen. “ He stood up desperately trying to explain.  Refusing to listen, I slammed the door instead.

“Listen to me!!” I pointed.

“I have a business to run, this is no joke!  I’m in financial trouble and I’ll bet you that YOUR financial difficulty is nowhere near as bad as mine!! So get out of my office and don’t bring your business here again!” I opened the door again and Derrick looked up from his laptop, rather startled and worried as he looked at a rather embarrassed and beetroot red Mr Beardsley. 

“See Mr Beardsley out.” I slammed the door, not caring what Derrick said in my absence. Rage ran through my veins, I ran over to my desk and grabbed my desk tidy….