Jade Monkey

I finally got the message that my body had enough of running about a half a block later and I wheezed to a halt, and leant against the side of a handy burger van, slowly sinking to the ground. Around me crowds bustled, a moving human river, flowing along the pavement and into the surrounding shops. The air was full of the scent of cooked onion. The air wasn’t full of shouting and vengeful bullets, which I took to be a plus. Hell, perhaps she was serious about not shooting me, either that or onions warded off assassins like garlic does vampires.

Someone put a drink in a cardboard cup next to my hand and sat down next to me, taking years off my life. In a perfect world I’d have found my gun in my hand and some witty repartee on my lips or lurched to my feet for the next part of the Loughborough sprint. Instead, I made do with tilting my head enough to look at who was buying me a drink.

DI Boura sat down next to me taking a bite out of a hot dog that seemed to be mostly ketchup in a bun and swigged some coke. He was dressed in a long black coat that belted at the waist worn over a neat white cotton shirt and tie. We sat together for something like a century till my pulse slowed down to something that resembled normal. Eventually I took a sip of the coke.

‘I thought I told you to stay out of the investigation?’

‘Oh please.’ I said, rolling my eyes. ‘Has anyone ever taken that advice?’

‘I didn’t actually think you’d actually go back to your old office either.’

‘Can’t I even go back to my own office without the police getting involved?’ I grumbled.

‘Given five squad cars and SWAT got involved last time, I think one DI checking things out is pretty restrained. We can’t have our number one suspect getting shot full of holes.’ He smiled and took another bite out of the hotdog.

‘Don’t tell me you’re still working that one.’ I said disgustedly.

‘It’s strange how evidence stacks up sometimes. Even stranger how everyone who we’d like to talk to seems to be ending up dead apart from you.’

‘Yeah, I feel so incredibly lucky at the moment.’ I said sourly. ‘You wait here; I’m going to go buy a lottery ticket.’

He laughed then. ‘You’re lucky we aren’t sending the morgue wagon to follow ‘round after you to save time.’

‘To pick up them or me?’

‘Well, you seem fairly bullet proof so far.’

‘Don’t get any bright ideas about testing that out.’

‘Wouldn’t dream of it.’

‘Good.’ I looked up at the sky. ‘I’m beginning to figure things out. Not everything, not how it all hangs together and why it’s happened. But perhaps the edges. Who’s involved, what the stakes are.’

‘Care to share?’

‘Not yet.’ I said. ‘Too much speculation, too little evidence.’

‘You’re going to have to tell me eventually.’ He paused. ‘I could take you in.’

‘Well, that wouldn’t do any of us any good.  Speaking of speculation though, if I were a DI, I might be interested to know what one of Miss Mills’ reporters working on before he disappeared.’

‘Disappeared?’ He gave me an arch look. ‘Should I get Ed out?’

‘I think we can safely leave the corpse wagon out of it. Unless he’s dealing with the dead drunk these days. I don’t know what he was working on, but he seems to have stirred things up.’

‘Interesting, and he’s disappeared?’

‘He has, though he might reappear under police protection.’

‘I’ll see what I can do.’

I turned to give him a level look. ‘People you trust. This one’s bad.’

He held my gaze for a moment, started to speak and stopped himself before starting again his expression more sombre. ‘I said I’ll see what I can do. It’d be helpful if you’d at least try and keep your head down as well.’ He finished the hotdog as we sat in silence. I took another sip of coke.

‘Disappearing seems to be catching.’ He said.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean Miss Mills’ bodyguard hasn’t been seen for a while. It may be nothing, but bodyguards seem to be having a bad time of it lately.’

I didn’t reply. I just sat there and tried to digest the information. I don’t think I’d ever met him, only seen him standing in the shadows at the EHB. His disappearance wasn’t proof of anything. But if it were a signpost on the road to the truth, it’d probably have a vulture sitting on it.

‘I’ve also had a word with your archaeologist friend.’ He said, ‘We don’t have enough evidence to charge her, but it’d be a good idea if she tried to keep to the straight and narrow.’

‘I’ll tell her.’ I said. ‘If I see her.’

He shrugged. ‘Same goes for you too. Come on, I’ll give a lift back to Pete’s.’

I summoned a scathing reply, and shelved it. It’d beat walking.