Chasing the Dragon

by Nick James

  These coppers do seem really stressed today.

  ‘Mr Blades, I need every detail and movement. We need the truth,’ he barked.

  I leaned forward. ‘You can’t handle the truth. You want me on that wall, you need me on that wall,’ I announced happily, knowing that this would be the only time I could say this, even though Bethany groaned and Old Lofty sneered. A Few Good Men, I thank you.

  The detective gritted his pearly whites. ‘Blades, I will get the truth out of you,’ stated Mr Angry.

  I looked at Bethany. ‘Is he a bit touched? Did you hear me say about a lawyer?’ I asked.

  Then, that’s how it ended really. He didn’t like me; I thought the man was a spanner.

  ‘Interview over,’ he spat.

  I smiled in victory watching the detective constable storm out. But thinking back over what I’d said I realised I really don’t help myself.

  Chapter 2

  Detective Sergeant Tony (Tiger) Thompson

  ‘Why do all the lifts in London smell of piss, Winslow?’ I asked grumpily whilst daydreaming about getting my girlfriend, Suzie Q, in bed again. Dirty bitch, I thought and chuckled, which brought a look from my subordinate. He was a young and up-and-coming star in the force. The knob had only been a detective for six months and thought he knew everything about the job. I bet he’s still wondering how he got lumbered with good old dodgy me.

  Detective Constable John Winslow just shook his head. ‘No idea, Sarge,’ he replied.

  Once the door opened, we headed down the hallway. ‘So, no fucking CCTV, then,’ I moaned, knowing that this meant a long-drawn-out door-to-door search for witnesses. Bring on the community police officers. ‘So, one intruder with a gun?’ I asked Winslow.

  ‘Yes, Sarge. He gave the boyfriend a going-over, then according to them he had the gun to the man’s neck when the girlfriend crept out and stabbed the assailant,’ Winslow explained from his notes as they walked into the flat.

  I saw the body. ‘Winslow, is that a fucking samurai sword in his back?’

  ‘Yep, it was a replica from a film that she had bought the boyfriend as a gift,’ he replied.

  ‘Well, I guess he threatened the wrong couple.’ I chuckled and took in the scene. Their story seemed plausible. It was a tidy flat with nice things but not overly expensive, so a drugs hit was ruled out. ‘Where’s the gun?’ I was handed it in an evidence bag. I took one look; that’s when something went click in my head. Oh fuck, I thought, this looks like the gun I sold to a bloke. Please, no.

  ‘There’s no serial number on it. It’s a .22 with a silencer fitted, which makes me think it’s a professional job, but other evidence screams amateur,’ John said as he looked at the file the SOCO tech had given him. ‘There is skin, hair and blood on the gun, must be where he hit the victim.’

  I wiped my now sweaty face. ‘So, do we know who he is, then?’

  ‘Yep, believe it or not he brought his wallet with him.’ He took a leather wallet out of another evidence bag. ‘Stuart Goddard, and the strange thing is he works at the same firm as the tenant.’

  I walked over and sat my fat arse down. I’ve got to get in shape, I moaned internally. ‘All right, Winslow, lay it on me, and please don’t say he’s a banker, I hate those fuckers,’ I snapped.

  ‘Shimmering Dreams, a security investigator,’ John said and handed over the dead man’s work ID card. ‘Also, he had a copy of their front door key.’

  Fuck, fuck, fuck, it is him, I cried inside my drug-fuelled head. ‘Well, we’ll go and see his bosses in the morning. I can’t imagine it’s a hit.’ I looked around the flat and began a staring competition with their fish.

  ‘Boss, you okay?’ John asked, giving me a nudge.

  I nodded and thought about killing that mocking fishy bastard, but then again one body in the flat was enough. ‘Well, the scene does seem to support the couple’s story, doesn’t it, Winslow?’ I scratched my head leaving a nice pile of DNA behind. ‘Well, let them take the body, then we can release the crime scene once SOCO have done their thing.’

  John nodded and took some notes. ‘Does seem to be an open and shut case,’ he said as we started to walk out towards the lift. ‘Do you want me to contact the company and arrange the interviews for tomorrow?’

  We paddled in the golden lake which was the floor of the lift. ‘Nah, it’s all right, John,’ I responded, pressing a distinctly sticky button, ‘I’ll pull up the details when I get back to the nick and give them the heads-up. Don’t want to upset the little suits now, do we?!’ I gave out a wheezy chuckle before spitting out a lump of lung butter. My body is shot, wonder if Suzie Q is free, I thought, making my mind race.

  Luckily, Blades had been taken to a local hotel for the night after the Hong Kong bird’s employers had sent in their lawyers. I did not want to face those buggers yet, but what did surprise me was that there was a separate lawyer for the boyfriend. Strange days.

  The downside about the evening, apart from the murder of my ex-customer, Suzie was working late in the club and couldn’t meet up, but she did say that her order of special equipment would be here on Saturday. Fun, fun, fun.

  Back at the station we met up with DC Peterson who was in a right state. Miss Li had remained stone cold cool and waited for her company’s lawyer to turn up before reading out a statement about the night’s events. In contrast, Sam Blades just wound the DC up, started shouting out a movie reference, and then waited for his lawyer. The DC in question told me he was actually considering going on an anger management course, which he didn’t know he needed until tonight.

  With evidence checked in along with the paperwork all ready to be collated in the morning, I headed out and managed to make it back to my flat with fried chicken in one hand and a box of lager in the other. I kicked my shoes off into the darkest regions of my home. It’s always nice and quiet here, with a deaf old dear downstairs. As I’m in the top flat, I can eat, drink and be merry in peace, and dream of my flexible Suzie Q.

  Chapter 3

  Michael McAllister

  ‘What the fuck?’ I raged down the phone at Tiger. ‘Fine, I’ll make the arrangements. We’ll meet you at the office at noon,’ I added, fighting the good fight with a struggling sock.

  ‘Cheers, mate, but remember, we don’t know each other,’ Tony the Tiger warned.

  I nodded, but obviously he didn’t see as we were talking on the phone. ‘Yeah, no worries, catch ya later.’ I ended the call before sending off a text to the relevant bosses: 999, police coming in today, Stuart Goddard attacked Sam Blades and girlfriend last night. Goddard dead. Meet you at the office.

  ‘Fucking working on a Saturday. What am I, a robot?’ I ranted, stomping around my one-bedroom house. Now, I am a tidy person – not in life, but at home I am. Or was, until now with my wonderfully messy girlfriend/boyfriend/fixer/hitman for the Chinese mob, your choice. I’ll never forget the video message she sent to me on Valentine’s Day of her beating a triad to death with a foot-long marital aid – but what the heart wants, it wants.

  In response to my text, I had a reply from John Jones, director of internal security and the dead bloke’s boss, ordering me to hurry in and meet in the CEO’s office.

  I finally managed to get to the office and head up to the top floor after a taxi ride from home. I did feel like my face was going to fall off, but I survived.

  All the bosses were there; each one looked like they had passed a brick sideways. Albert Kettering, the director of external security, and the CEO Charles Madison looked jaded, but John Jones just looked like he was pissed off about having to do a six-day week. ‘Preaching to the choir,’ I mumbled as the latter man waved me in.

  ‘Ah, Michael, thank you for getting here so quickly,’ Madison said and pointed to a chair directly opposite him. ‘So, what the fuck is going on?’ he asked me pointedly, like I was all-knowing. Typical boss.

  I took a deep breath and looked out at London’s morning cityscape. ‘Well, according to my source, Stuart G
oddard broke into Sam Blades’ apartment, which seemed to be unoccupied at the time, and on Sam’s return beat him up and put a gun to his head,’ I explained, observing Albert’s panicked look.

  ‘Where the fuck did he get a gun from?’ asked Kettering, as ever the no-nonsense kind of bloke with an iron girder up his arse.

  I shrugged, even though I knew how easy it was to buy a gun in London. Well, mainly due to my friendship with Tony the Tiger, or my girlfriend. ‘He’s a city boy, so it wouldn’t be too hard for him.’ I saw Jones nodding in agreement.

  ‘Okay, what else?’ Jones asked as he checked his flashy gold watch. It looked like he had been called away from a golf game. Oh, how the other half live, but why spend your weekend walking around smacking a ball?

  I rubbed my face; it still felt numb. Not sure what I drank or took last night or, when I came to think about it, what I had done in general. ‘Well, Goddard didn’t check the flat when he broke in. Then, when he wasn’t looking, Blades’ girlfriend plunged a sword through his chest,’ I explained and let it sink into the shocked men’s brains. I was shocked when I heard about it, but these Chinese girls do seem to enjoy violence.

  Madison did his normal trick of standing and staring out of his window at the London skyline. ‘Okay, well, the rumour is that Goddard had been clashing with Blades over those so-called interviews. We can use that,’ he concluded and poured four yummy tumblers of whisky before handing them out. ‘We will back the Blades kid one hundred per cent. Does he need a lawyer or a place to live? Do what we can gentleman.’

  I drank the nectar of the gods and felt the oaky goodness revive my soul. ‘The girlfriend’s bank sent lawyers for them both – but you’re right, we need to be seen to help them,’ I agreed and placed my empty glass on his desk as it pleaded to be refilled.

  John Jones leaned forward in his chair. ‘We could rent them a flat and subsidise it, so they won’t pay any more than they do now?’ he suggested before taking a sip of his drink.

  That sickened me. Just down the fucking thing, my mind chided him.

  ‘Good idea, John,’ Madison agreed and then looked at me, but not once did the heartless bastard even look at my empty glass. ‘Michael, you head off and speak to Blades. Offer them a flat. We have a few locally, so start with those, rent-free for two months, then the rent will match what they are paying now.’

  ‘No problem. I’ll go over once I leave here,’ I said.

  ‘John, can you get him a list of the properties we have along with the keys? Let’s get this moving,’ the CEO said, making myself and Jones stand up. ‘According to your text we have an hour till the police turn up. So, Albert, check Goddard’s computer quickly and make sure there’s nothing that will embarrass us.’

  The external security manager stood up. ‘Sure thing, boss,’ Kettering said, letting the morning sunrays bounce of his bald head.

  As we all parted, I followed Jones off to his office. ‘I know what you’re thinking, Michael, but I didn’t think that our security team would go that far,’ he said as his office came into view. ‘I think Blades wound Goddard up about being bested by his girlfriend. Dreyfuss told me that Stuart had been annoying Sam and the team regularly, which made the latter and Wayward go on the attack.’

  I nodded and tried to suck any remnants of whisky from my tongue. ‘Yeah, he did seem to have a hard-on for Blades.’ I chuckled and got a ‘what the fuck’ look from Jones. ‘I heard Wayward sent Goddard a Chinese calendar, and Blades sent him a Business Etiquette For Dummies book.’

  He pushed three files across his desk along with the same number of keys. ‘Yes, quite,’ Jones said slowly while scrutinising my very innocent-looking face. ‘Give them these and let them choose.’

  I gathered them all up and made a mental note to copy the keys of the flats they didn’t want. ‘No worries, boss,’ I said, which again brought a look from him. Clearly, he’s not a happy man.

  ‘Great, and good job with your source. It helped us a great deal to get ahead with this,’ Jones said. Then, thankfully, by the grace of God, he poured us a glass of his finest whisky. ‘Tell Blades to pop in on Monday, but he can take the rest of the week off,’ he instructed and downed his drink.

  As a show of camaraderie, I downed my drink, too. Putting my empty vessel of goodness down, I nodded. ‘Okay. Did you want me to stay for the police?’

  ‘No, we’ll sort them out. Go over to the Blades and let them know how sorry we are and get them sorted,’ John said before shooing me away.

  Who was I to argue – a belly full of good whisky and some new party pads for me to use. All it took was a murder. Good things do happen to those who wait; I knew having a patsy would work out all right for me in the end. I smiled to myself and skipped all the way to the lifts and into the fresh smell of old London town.

  As I sat in a taxi heading towards the hotel where the Blades were now residing, I gave Tiger a heads-up about the way the big boys in the office were going to play this: Yo Tiger, boys are pissed off but are backing Blades. It’s well known about the bad blood between the two men, but mainly from Goddard’s side. I would say he acted alone. Hope you put it to bed quickly, don’t need this shit… Tequila tonight?

  I sent the message to one of his burner phones. Of course, he had a few being dodgy like he was, bless his little cotton socks. The taxi finally pulled up in front of the local Travelodge, just as a reply from Tiger pinged through to my phone: Peanut, yep that’s what I’m doing. Should be put to bed today. All the evidence proves that Goddard was a dick. Suzie is off tonight, so come over for food drink, and fun.

  I gave the driver a big tip and an even bigger smile. I’m gonna get fuckkkked upp, my mind screamed as it got overexcited and the rest of my organs wept for the future.

  Chapter 4

  Sam Blades

  Barking Travelodge

  We spent a very peaceful and murder-free night at this hotel, which for the price and location was a surprise. The police brought us here after Bunny’s company’s lawyers tore the coppers a new one. But what amazed me was that my darling girlfriend had made two friends in Bethany and Sharon. I’m not sure what I did to the latter, but she said the next time I piss her off she will taser me on the perineum. Chicks, they be crazy.

  The cops didn’t even bother to arrest us, since the twat Goddard was in the typical murderer outfit. I still can’t believe he tried to kill me. Yes, he was a prick; I told him that on the odd occasion. Okay, maybe more than that – face-to-face a few times, a few voicemails and emails to his home account. Oh, and I may have gone overboard with the barbershop quartet, but in my defence, he did call Bunny a bitch. Goddard, or should I call him the victim? Anyway, he was lucky I hadn’t told her about that, otherwise he would have died sooner.

  What surprised me was the fact that Bunny slept like a baby, as if killing a man with a samurai sword was nothing. I decided not to press it just in case she explained that she loved the sound of a man’s death rattle.

  But, at this moment in time, we were having a slight domestic. She, the little murdering bitch (that was said in my head, not out loud), had taken the only clean pair of boxers I had brought with me. Well, I had to really. The boxers I was wearing during the altercation had become very second-hand. But she claimed that because she didn’t bring any clean knickers with her, and the fact that she’s a lady, she should have priority.

  I knew I wasn’t going to win, but I had to fight. Just then there was a knock on the door, which I opened as she shouted a garbled reply. I shouted, ‘I don’t fucking care, just get my pants off.’ I then turned back to the opened door to see my boss smiling like an addict landing in a pile of meth.

  ‘Good morning, Sam,’ McAllister said happily, glancing into the room over my shoulder. ‘And you, too, Miss Li.’

  ‘Cheers,’ she called back as she devoured a mini Toblerone bar.

  Watching her trying to lick off all the chocolate is truly the eighth wonder of the world. But I did start to feel awkward with
my boss looking over my shoulder as my blood flow diverted itself south of the border. I imagined a naked Kathy Bates doing the sand dance, as this allowed my blood flow to return to normal service.

  ‘Please, come in. Do you wish for a badly made cup of tea? Or a packet of biscuits which has been here since Jesus walked the earth?’ I said with a playful smile. He knew the truth; I was never going to make him the tea.

  Mike walked in and closed the door behind him. ‘No thanks, Sam, I had breakfast before I came here,’ he said. But from the smell of his breath and the bloodshot eyes, it wasn’t a breakfast made from any of the well-known food groups.

  ‘So, what can I do for you, Mike?’ I asked, but hoped he had a big bag of cash with ‘Sorry’ printed on the outside.

  ‘Well, myself and the directors are distraught to hear about the attack on you both last night. We just don’t understand why Goddard would do such a thing,’ Mike said sighing and shaking his head, although that action made him grab the doorjamb before gravity made him her bitch.

  Bunny walked up behind me, thankfully leaving her breakfast behind. ‘Well, thank you, Mike. It was a crap night, but it was no one’s fault apart from that asshole’ she snapped angrily, making me wince at her venom. She really wasn’t a people person.

  He smiled awkwardly. ‘Indeed. Well, the directors are willing to offer you the pick of one of our available company flats,’ Mike explained and handed some files to Bunny, who took them hurriedly over to the desk and started flicking through. ‘They’re in a block in Canning Town; so, closer to both your places of work,’ he highlighted, as if taking on the role of an estate agent.

  ‘We can’t afford it, unless Sam wants to sell a kidney,’ Bunny threw in. She then started making sounds of longing whilst looking at the pictures.

  Mike nodded.

  Somehow, I had slipped out of the conversation despite being the barrier between my girlfriend, who was making indecent noises, and my boss. ‘Tru dat, baby,’ I added. I like to help.