Jade Monkey

Powerful searchlights scoured the night’s sky in front of the EHB club so that its pale brickwork shone. A landlocked lighthouse, calling partygoers from across town. It’s something of everything, a pool hall a nightclub and a hang out for the in crowd; something of everything for everyone who could want to go there.

Behind me yet another taxi drove off into the night with a little bit more of my money on board. Time to arrange a hire car, but tomorrow. I took a few seconds to dust down my least crumpled suit and made my way to the door.

Music and the memory of cigarette smoke hung in the air around a well-lit and crowded bar.  I could just about smell cooking food wafting from the small kitchen near the back, it subtly mingled with all the other scents to culminate in the suggestion of a party. The sound of clinking glasses and laughter underscored the scene.

I stood for a while, simply watching the flow of people. There were hundreds here, dressed in all sorts of clothes some conservative others daring. The cheap and the tacky rubbing shoulders with a few suits and dresses that you sent armed guards with to the dry cleaners. My eyes walked around the room until they found Miss Mills sat at a table on a platform up to the right. A tall bodyguard stood to her left; he was wearing thick glasses and had short dark blond hair, his dark suit look almost as battered as mine. I shook my head, surely Miss Mills wouldn’t be short with the money with somebody she trusted her life too? She herself was wearing a dark purple number, picked out to match some small pieces of expensive jewellery. But it was who she was talking to that caught my attention. If her bodyguard was tall this guy was a giant, even sitting down he towered over her. He was pale with long dark hair, his clothes were dark too, but they looked well cut.

Then, with my gaze fixed on the table across the room, behind me someone spoke quietly into my ear.

‘Stick ‘em up’ A guys voice, helpfully prodding me in the back just below the ribcage to emphasise the point. I turned round slowly, hands half raised, ready to dive for cover.

I recognised him, the dark hair and the hungry expression, it was the reporter from outside the police station. He beamed a smile at me and gave me a pistol salute with his hand still made into a mock pistol.

‘You’ I said ‘Are as about as funny as hangover.’

He shrugged. ‘It was a joke – don’t take it so hard.’

‘Well I’ve been a little tense lately. What do you want?’

‘You can definitely tell about the tense part. I was thinking that we could trade a little information.’

‘I don’t have anything more to say to you that I haven’t said already.’

‘Hey I’m off duty.’  He raised his hands to tap his hat. ‘See. No press card.’

I fought the urge to smile. ‘What do you want then?’

‘I figured that we both might benefit from an exchange of information. Just a little chat. I’m running my own investigation in to what’s been going on lately and you might be able to help me…..’

‘…..in exchange for some information out of you.’ I finished for him.  ‘Deal.’ I nodded to a table that had just been vacated by a couple next to one of the walls.

I sat back into a the wide back of a wooden armchair, taking a sip of my Whiskey and Coke. ‘So what do you want to know?’

‘You’ve met “Red Mark” yes?’

I nodded.

‘The line from police HQ is that he’s involved.’

‘In the murder or the theft?’

‘Hell, both.’

I shook my head. ‘I don’t think they’ve got anything. They’re going after Mark because they have to be seen as doing something and he’s a useful target.’

He nodded to himself thoughtfully for a few seconds. ‘OK’

‘Who’s that guy at Miss Mills’s table.’

He looked across the room for a second. ‘Hmm. That’s Gareth’

‘Another reporter?’

‘Yeah. Though he does opinion pieces and writes editorials for editors who are hard of thinking whereas I’m freelance.’

‘He knows the local politics?’

‘Backwards. That all you want to know?’

‘Yeah.’ All I needed to know to see that the town’s politics were beginning to come to the boil.

‘Right. Do think there’s anything in the disappearances?’

‘The bodyguard?’

‘And the Archaeologist brought in to check the Jades authenticity.’

This guy had good sources of information. ‘Well between the two of them they had access to the mayor and the Jade.’

His eyes sprung to life. ‘Yes!’ He began talking quickly.  ‘If they were working together they could pull it off. The Archaeologist steals the Jade, the Bodyguard kills the mayor to create glorious confusion they leave, sell the Jade back to a Chinese Collector. They’re away and wealthy!’

He looked at me as I shook my head. ‘What’s the problem then genius?’

‘The problem is’ I said ‘They hate each other like poison’

‘Well they would feign that wouldn’t they. So no-one would suspect.’

‘No, this was a long, deep hatred. I don’t know the story behind it, but I think they’d both rather mainline cyanide than give each other the time of day.’ I said.

Over in the distance a comedian finished his act to small applause. The curtain fell and lights dimmed. A guy in a penguin suit announced a double-barrelled stage name into the microphone to warm applause. Not much time to ask my question if I wanted to see how good this Secretary come songstress really was.

‘Last question.’

He gestured acceptance with his glass whilst raising it to his lips.

‘Does Miss Mills have much contact with anyone in the Police at all?’

He almost choked on his drink. Hurriedly he wiped his mouth and tried to stop coughing. But he managed to gesture towards the back of the room. I turned round slowly and in that moment before the lighting went down even further and curtain opened, across the room I recognised the Chief Constable sit down at the same table as Miss Mills.