Jade Monkey

The paper was white, thick and expensive. Blue ink spelt out my name in wide curving letters. My full name. I smiled as I recognised the handwriting. It also explained how the letter had got here. Perhaps it was time. It’s an old habit of mine to not ask for help unless I can possibly avoid it, reinforced this time, as I’d no wish to stay and renew old ties. Yet the further I got with the case, the more my old life was reasserting itself. Going to Loughborough Library would be one more step to that end, I might as well check out the cost of glass-frosted doors while I was there and start making enquiries about office space. I opened the envelope and scanned the contents.

Hannah looked puzzled at my wry expression as she returned, and glanced at the letter.

‘You get your mail delivered to my car now?’

I shrugged. ‘My library books are late.’

‘Fine.’ She said flatly and started to move past me.

I smiled broadly and held out the letter to her.

She stopped and gave me a piercing look before gingerly taking the letter. After a few seconds she handed it back to me. Her light blue eyes now looked slightly bewildered.

‘Your library books are late,’ she said levelly. ‘And I am not going to give you the satisfaction of asking.’

‘Some private investigators go to bars for information, others to boot blacks. Me, I go to the Library.’

‘I thought you were a pilot?’

‘I’ve reverted to type. I’ve got my hat, my coat and a gun, now all I need to know is what’s really going on and I can start making sense of things’

Hannah grinned. ‘You can pay the fine on ‘Pride and Prejudice’ as well.’

Loughborough Library was built the same time as the museum and stands just opposite. I’ve often wondered how the two buildings ended up quite so different. The museum with its marble staircase and stone lions against the sprawling gothic expanse and gargoyles of the library. I was told once, shortly before I was assaulted with a fire extinguisher in non-fiction that the place had been built as a bequest from a local millionaire who’d not been allowed to build a folly on one of the local hills. He’d certainly had the last laugh.

I strolled past the lone stone unicorn that sat on its haunches by the left hand side of the entrance to library and into the well-lit interior. Sunlight filtered down from a series of domes set into the ceiling. The main desk dominated the centre of the circular arrangement of shelves, with pathways through the bookcases radiating out like spokes from a wheel, or strands of silk in a spider’s web.

Ginger stood behind the front desk. She’s about 5’5 with hazel eyes and pale skin. The light red hair that gave her her nickname was cut into a short bob cut. She was wearing a cream blouse and black-rimmed glasses; the effect was rather stern until she smiled.

‘Mr Jones. You don’t seem to be carrying any books.’

‘Yes, about that…’

‘We’ll get to that in a minute. Introductions first please.’

‘Of course, Hannah this is Ginger, Loughborough Librarian, renowned for her beauty, genius and unsurpassed knowledge of Loughborough’s social scene.’

She tilted her head to one side, still smiling. ‘You always say such wonderful things when you’re in trouble.’

I grinned. ‘But I do it so well.’

‘You’re still in trouble though.’ She turned to Hannah. ‘And you, of course, are the new Archaeologist in the museum’s Eastern History department, recently transferred back from abroad and hired to verify the Jade’s authenticity when it arrived. Now wanted by the police for questioning about the murder of Mr Charles.’

‘Pleased to meet you.’

‘Likewise. If you want to do a little research whilst I deal with this smooth talking reprobate, whilst there is no strict Dewey decimal category for archaeology, we have the new edition of ‘Artefacts of the East’ under 720 to 740.’

Ginger waited as Hannah walked to some far shelving.

‘Do you know how much you owe?’

‘Look I…’

She interrupted. ‘Nothing. Your insurance company was very accommodating when your office exploded.’

‘So then…’

‘So then I thought I’d nudge events.’

‘As I recall you nudged events when you lent me ‘The Road Less Travelled’.’

She wrinkled her nose. ‘I nudged too hard. I meant that you should leave town for a while. Not disappear off the face of the earth. Things have changed since you’ve been away.’

‘I know, I’ve been to the docks. Looks to be mostly for the better.’

She quietly shook her head. ‘Its fragile. A high profile murder and an even higher profile theft and suddenly the shadows seem a little darker.’

I looked up at the ceiling. ‘Have you been reading the crime section again?’

Ginger bit her lip. ‘It got worse after you left. The Police were as bad as ever. The mayor only ever cared where his next charitable donation was coming from. Then a few so-say respectable businessmen died in mysterious circumstances.’ She paused. . ‘Your partner has a most remarkable work ethic.’

‘She isn’t my partner.’ I said automatically.

She waved away my objection with a well-manicured hand. ‘Still, crime seemed to drive the city. The newspapers were full of all sorts of criminal mayhem.’

‘Until Miss Michelle saw her investment opportunity.’

‘Yes. The papers were against it at first. There were a couple of rather negative editorials until Miss Mills was recruited and the stories went quietly went away. Things started to change then. Some rather uncompromising policemen were hired, a lot of the body politic decided to spend time with their families rather than have their expenses audited. A couple of rather fiery headlines about taking back the streets and things started to look a bit brighter.’

I tilted my hat back on my head with a finger. ‘Sounds like things were coming together. What happened our friends in the criminal fraternity?’

‘After the assassinations it had started to become quieter anyway. There were a lot of grunts arrested. No big names though.’

‘All sounds rather convenient for Miss Michelle. She said that there were special interest groups who liked the town as it was. Those were her suspects.’

‘Are they yours?’ She said archly.

‘No.’

‘That was rather definitive. Why not?’

‘Killing off the mayor, stealing the Jade, both those took some organising. A gang could have done this, maybe. But after what you’ve told me no, it doesn’t fit. A single group wouldn’t have the clout to quiet things down or provide the information or opportunities needed for the assassinations to be successful.’

Ginger was silent for a moment. ‘What are you suggesting?’

‘It also seems rather strange that all of my leads have been the recipients of unfortunate accidents. There’s a word that describes that sort of organisation.’

‘You’re talking about a criminal syndicate aren’t you?’

‘Maybe. Everything has been too neat and tidy.’

‘What about the mayor?’

‘I think the mayor did what he always did – Ask to get paid, and the syndicate baulked. Either the price was too high, or there was too much chance that Miss Michelle would find out about our opposition. So he had to go.’

‘You’ve been busy.’ She murmured. ‘It all fits doesn’t it. They’ve been keeping quiet, building their strength as Miss Michelle rebuilds the town.’

‘It’s a bit of a stretch, but it’ll do as a working hypothesis. I’ll see if I can find some evidence of them. Being that organised tends to leave tracks, even if they don’t lead anywhere. But it will let us know that they exist.’

‘What are you going to do now?’

‘Report in to Miss Michelle, with the vaguest generalities I can get away with. Until I’ve proof that there’s a syndicate out there. Plus I have a few leads to chase up.’

‘You may need this then.’ She pulled out a wooden box something from beneath the counter and held it out towards me.

I raised the lid slowly. It was my old gun. When I say old I mean it. It’s an antique, the same model as Sherlock Holmes used. I’ve actually clubbed more people over the head than shot people with it.

I looked at it for a lifetime before taking it from her.

‘How?’ My voice sounded a little thick.

‘Your office wasn’t completely destroyed in the blast. I managed to persuade the insurance people to release some of your effects to me. If you give me that hand cannon that Pete gave you I’ll make sure it gets back to him.’

I nodded and the gun disappeared below the counter. Hannah had seen the exchange and was walking back from the shelves where she’d been stood. Her expression seemed pre-occupied.

‘One last thing, someone’s been looking for you.’

‘A woman in a grey dress?’ I hazarded.

‘Oh?’ She pursed her lips in amusement. ‘No, a man in a shabby blue suit. A reporter apparently. ‘I’d check your messages at the hotel.’ She paused. ‘If there is a syndicate out there you’re going to need help.  Stiles’ number hasn’t changed.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Be careful.’ She said, and waved as we left.