“Now this was all just a misunderstanding that escalated before cooler heads could prevail. We can all walk away and pretend this never happened,” I said.
The attractive blonde female straightened Shaftoe's jacket and dusted off his pants while the dark hair female hung back. “Are you okay baby?”
“No commoner places a hand on a Shaftoe and gets away with it,” said Bobby as he looked at Dick. If looks could kill, Dick would have been dead in a matter of seconds. In all my years as a police officer, I've never seen anyone with a look like that on their face.
“Who the fuck you calling commoner?” asked Dick as he stepped in the direction of Bobby Shaftoe. I grabbed Dick by the shoulder. As angry as he was, I don’t think I could have stopped him if he chose to punch Bobby Shaftoe. “I think you should move on son.”
Shaftoe must have seen the Omega tattoo on Dick’s neck because the kid threw up his hands and quickly left the scene with his two attractive accessories.
“Who the fuck is Bobby Shaftoe?” Dick asked.
“Don’t worry about it, Shaftoe started the whole thing,” I said. “I’ll explain everything to Fitzwarren.”
“Seriously, who the fuck is Bobby Shaftoe?” Dick asked again. “Is he somebody important?”
“He’s the heir to the Shaftoe shipping empire,” I said. “He comes from old money and its old money that runs this city.”
“Fuck, if Fitzwarren gets wind of this, I’m finished as a cop in Goose City,” said Dick fretfully.
“Don’t worry partner, I got your back,” I said, “Let’s find the Wellingtons then head over to the Derby Ram.”
Chapter 10
The toughest part of my job is telling parents their child is dead. Working as a detective in Goose City I've had to do it more than once. The reaction of the parents even shakes a seasoned detective like me.
In a large and expensively decorated room in Mr. East's mansion, I regrettably told the Wellingtons of their son's death. Mrs. Wellington’s reaction was the same as a mother from Pippen Hill. Mr. Wellington immediately comforted his wife. I told them where they could identify their son's body. I also apologize for ruining their evening. Then I made a promise to capture the person responsible.
After informing the Wellingtons of their son’s death, I sat alone in the Derby Ram, drinking away the day. A few shots of Bonfire Nights will make today seem like a good day.
“Another long day hon',” said Joan the bartender. “You want to talk about it?”
“Double the Bonfire and I just might do that,” I said as I lit a cigarette. Looking around the Ram, it was the same crowd; blue collar, hardworking people who wanted to relax after a long day.
While pouring the double shot of Bonfire, Joan said, “I’m listening.” She wasn’t as beautiful as those two women who were with Bobby Shaftoe, but she is a good listener with a heart of gold.
"I just finished telling some parents their only child was murdered," I said before gulping the double shot of Bonfire. "Sometimes I wish I could walk away from it all."
"What's stopping you hon?" Joan asked as she leaned on the bar.
"I don't know," I responded glumly.
"You can't walk away hon," said Joan as she smiled. "You have this inherent sense of justice. Besides who'll keep us safe from the bad guys."
"I haven't done such a great job lately," I said as I exhaled. "Bad guys two; Jackson zero."
"You can't get 'em all hon," said Joan as she touched my hand. She was right, but I sure could try.
Not wanting to talk about my day any longer, I asked, "So who’s playing tonight?”
“Your favorite," said Joan with a smile, "Ol’ King Cole.”
The shots of Bonfire Nights and listening to the soulful jazz of Ol’ King Cole would make today seem less disheartening.
Then Simple Simon entered the pub and took the empty stool next to me.
“What brings you to the Ram Simon?” I asked.
“Simon knew, Jack was here having a brew,” he responded. Somehow this homeless man could always find me.
“Get Simon whatever he wants and put it on my tab,” I said to Joan. It was the least I could do to the man that gave me my only lead in the Jack Wellington’s case.
“What’re you gonna have Simon?” asked Joan.
“Wings and a brew will do,” said Simon with a smile.
“Which brew?” asked Joan as she moved to the beer taps.
Licking his lips, Simon said, “A tall Cross Patch to go down the hatch.” Joan filled a chilled mug and placed it in front of Simon.
“Can you tell me anything else about the boy and girl at the Well?” I asked Simon.
“No more does Simon know, solve the murder or free they go,” replied Simon in one of his usual rhymes. “The killer of Lavender Blue, his prison time is due.”
"What did you say?" I asked. "Do you know the killer?”
“Untouchable he thinks, the life of another he will sink,” responded Simon. Sometimes I wish he would just talk straight. I don't understand why he talks in riddles.
“Can you tell me anything else?” I asked Simon as I sat on the edge of my barstool. My mind raced at this bit of information.
“Free as a bird and handsome he is, has made murdering his biz,” replied Simon before taking a sip of beer.
The person Simon described could be anyone living in Goose City. I foresaw a lot of long nights searching for the killer.
As Joan placed a plate of Surrey wings in front of Simon, he said something very chilling. "Born in the Goose, the devil is loose."
I didn't need to ask Simon what he meant by his last rhyme. The devil was loose in Goose City and he had killed. I’m sure he would kill again.
“Friend Jack thanks for the food, Simon is in a happy mood,” said Simon as he dug into the plate of wings.
“Enjoy my friend,” I said. Joan gently patted my right hand and smiled at me. I return the smile.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” said voice from the stage. I rotated my barstool only to see the owner of the Derby Ram, Jack Spry, standing on stage behind the microphone. “The Derby Ram proudly present Ol’ King Cole and his trio.”
The lights in the Ram went down. King Cole, followed by his trio took the stage to light applause. A heavyset man with greying hair, King Cole picked up his guitar from its stand and said in his trademark raspy voice “Thank you, we’re happy to be here and even happier you’ve decided to spend your evening with us.”
His fingers gently strummed his guitar strings and the magic happened. His music put a good feeling in your heart and took you to a place where there were no worries. Life was good.
******
Two black and silver box trucks slowly rolled through the south entrance gate of Old MacDonald Organic Farm. A young man in dark green coveralls directed them to a large cinder block warehouse with loading docks.
The passenger of each truck dismounted, opened the rear door of the trucks and guided them to the docks. The trucks kept their engines running.
Two young men also dressed in dark green coveralls came out of the warehouse holding semi-automatic weapons and stood on the platform. Seconds later, a tall blonde female with a crewcut, wearing a red and black leather bustier, matching leather pants and black platform boots joined them.
Her subordinates called her Bo Peep. However, there wasn't anything little about her. She stood well over six feet with the muscles to match. She was a former prostitute and Lions' gang member who accepted a shorter jail sentence to work at Old MacDonald's Organic Farm as part of the community service program. After completing her community service program, Wesley kept her on as an enforcer.
The driver of the right truck holding an attaché case dismounted and walked onto the dock platform. He handed the case to Bo Peep who immediately opened it to check the contents. Satisfied with the contents, she made a circling motion with her right index finger.
Chapter 11
Sunlight through an open blind danced across my face as I
lay in bed. The smell of bacon and eggs and hit my nostrils. After adjusting my eyes, I realized I had been here before. I sat up on the side of the bed and slid into my trousers.
Giveaways to my location were the autographed poster of the Kilkenny Cats on the far wall and the gymnastic medals and awards on the near wall. I was in Joan’s bedroom. I like to call her Jumpin Joan because she was an excellent gymnast in high school and during her brief stint in college before a knee injury ended her career. When she wasn't bartending, she taught gymnastics at Gloucester Central High School.
Morning hon,” said Joan as she handed me a cup of French roast coffee. "How did you sleep?"
"Like a baby," I said. There was no need to ask what happened last night. I knew the answer. Joan wasn't as good looking as Bobby Shaftoe's girls, but she was great in bed. She performed a gymnast move in bed that was incredible!
“Breakfast is on the table," said Joan who only wore black panties and her red hair in two pigtails. Her hips gently swished as she walked out of the bedroom. A tattoo of angel wings starting at the top of her shoulders to just above her buttocks covered her back.
After doing a little bit of hygiene, I joined Joan at the table. It was nice to sit across from a pair of perky breasts in the morning. They were more stimulating than the cup of French roast. On her right breast was a tattoo of a dolphin; on her left breast were several stars.
“So, are you coming by tonight?” asked Joan as she exhaled smoke away from me.
“Today is Tuesday,” I said. “I get off early to spend my evening with Mother Hubbard.”
“See that’s what I love about you Jackson,” said Joan as she leaned across the table. “You are so loyal and caring. Just like last night when you fed Simon.”
“Well Mother Hubbard raised me; Simon has helped me solve a couple of cases,” I said before taking a sip of coffee. “I just try to do the right thing by people.”
“What about me?” Joan asked as she inhaled on her cigarette. "Are you going to do right by me?"
"Didn’t I do right by you last night?” I asked.
“You know what asking,” said Joan with a smile. “When are you going to move in with me?”
I think she asked that to test my reaction. As usual, I kept my cool and gave her the response she wanted to hear. “Maybe you should move in with me, after all, my place is bigger.”
She smiled then said, “I’ll think about it.”
Looking at the clock on the wall, I quickly scoffed down the remaining bacon and eggs. “I gotta go. I’m so late.”
Getting out of her chair, Joan sat in my lap and nibbled my ear. “Wanna be two hours late?”
After last night, there was no way I could refuse Joan's offer of morning sex.
I finally made my way to the office after my morning session with Joan concluded.
Dick left a note saying he had an early meeting with Lucy Locket. Jenny and Bookworm were hard at work in their cubicle. I poked my head into their cubicle.
“Any leads?” I asked.
“Not one,” said Jenny dejectedly. "Leads for a body found in Pippen Hill are hard to come by."
“I go a little something that may help,” I said with a smile.
“What do you have?” asked Bookworm as he lifted his head up from a file.
“My source says this person has killed before and thinks he’s untouchable,” I said with a bit of enthusiasm. "The killer is also very attractive."
“Do you know how many people fit that description?” Bookworm asked. “That’s not very concrete information.”
"It's better than what we have so far," said Jenny. "Thanks, Jackson."
I went back to my cubicle and flopped down in my chair. After putting in my earbuds, I turned on my MP3 player and listened to Ol' King Cole as I made a flowchart of Jack Whittington's murder.
The end result of my flowchart was to revisit the crime scene. Perhaps the crime scene investigators missed a vital piece of evidence.
I quickly scribbled a note for Dick so he would know my whereabouts. Gathering my things I headed back to the Well.
Chapter 12
Sharply dressed, Dick Whittington sat across from Lucy Lockett in her office. The large office windows gave them a view of the Lincoln Bridge which crossed over to Grimm City. A silver tray with water and coffee sat on a service tray.
“Coffee or water?” asked Lucy.
“No thanks,” said Dick as he tried to get comfortable in the low back leather chair. Lucy poured herself a cup of coffee and added one sugar cube.
“Okay Ms. Locket, I need to hear everything,” Dick said as he pulled out a pen and pad. "I know you may have held something back in the presence of your boss."
“I’ve already told you everything,” said Lucy as she moved her index finger around the rim of her cup. “By the way, where is Detective Horner?”
“He’s working on another case,” said Dick. “I assure you that I’m more than competent in these matters.”
"I'm sure you are Detective Whittington," said Lucy with a seductive smile.
"Detective Horner, is out of the question," said Dick. “He’s working on another case.”
“Then it appears as if you will do," said Lucy. "And you're right, I didn't tell you everything in front of Mr. Emperor."
"What did you hold back?" Dick asked as he prepared to take notes. Lucy stood and walked over to the window. She looked at a large boat move slowly down the Serenade River. "This is all my fault," said Lucy.
"What do you mean?" Dick asked. Rotating his head slightly, he had a view of a somewhat sad Lucy with slumped shoulders.
"It was me who told Mr. Emperor about the fabric designers," said Lucy as she hugged herself. "The two gentlemen came highly recommended by a French designer.”
“What’s the designer’s name?” asked Dick while making a note on his pad. Going back to her desk, Lucy opened a folder and flipped a few pages. “It’s Savoy.”
“First or last name?” asked Dick as he scribbled more notes in his pad. “It’s his name,” said Lucy. “Most of the designers have a single name. It’s fashionable.”
“Do you have contact information for Savoy?” Dick asked.
“Yes, however, I haven't been able to speak to him personally," responded Lucy. "His aides have insisted Savoy isn't involved."
“Perhaps they’ll talk to me,” said Dick. “I can be a bit more persuasive.”
“Here’s his business card,” said Lucy as she slid Dick an embossed red and gold business card from a folder.
“Thank you,” said Dick. “I have a few more question then I’ll get out your hair. Where did these two men stay while they worked here?”
“They stayed here,” said Lucy as she sat back down. “They worked and lived in Mr. Emperor's personal design room. His chef prepared meals for them."
“Did the two suspects do their personal hygiene here?” Dick asked as he studied Lucy's facial cues.
“Yes,” said Lucy. "The design suite has a full bath and bedroom. Mr. Emperor uses it quite frequently."
"Is Mr. Emperor present today?" Dick asked as he continued trying to get comfortable in his chair.
"He's at his getaway," said Lucy, smiling. "This awful mess has left him an object of ridicule among his colleagues.” She passed Dick the early edition of the Goose City Gazette with the front page headline: Emperor Wears Nothing!
“I thought he had people that did damage control,” said Dick.
“You’d be amazed at what people would do for money,” said Lucy Locket.
"Is there any way that I can speak with him?" Dick asked.
"Unfortunately no," said Lucy. "He has a strict no communication policy when he's at his retreat."
Well, I don’t have to apologize to him thought Dick to himself. "One more thing, is it possible to see Mr. Emperor's personal design suite?”
"Why?" Lucy asked with a hint of nervousness.
"I would like to take a look at the machine," said Dick. "
Perhaps have a forensic team sweep the suite for DNA."
“Neither of those requests can granted," said Lucy.
"Why not?" asked Dick. "It may hold the key to finding the real identities of these criminals, making an arrest, and recovering the money."
"I'm afraid Mr. Emperor had the machine destroyed and the suite professionally cleaned,” said Lucy dolefully.
Exasperated, Dick said, “That was key piece of evidence.”
“Mr. Emperor did not want to be reminded of how he was swindled,” responded Lucy. "I pleaded with him to wait until the police had a chance to look at everything."
Dick stood and said, “Well any hope of identifying these guys rest with what the NAI can do with the photos you gave us.”
“NAI?” asked Lucy.
“Yeah, the National Agency of Inquest. They help us with identifying criminals who aren't in our databank. With all the evidence destroyed, they're our only hope,” said Dick. “Have a good day ma’am.”
Lucy stood and followed Dick out of the boardroom. “If I can think of anything else, I’ll contact you immediately.”
Goose City Page 4