Holy Orders

by Angus McLean

‘So was it a “violent street fight” or a “violent street assault”?’ Molly asked. ‘I’m confused.’

  ‘And you say we were ID’d,’ I said. ‘How did that happen?’

  Kennedy looked smug. ‘Wouldn’t you like to know?’

  I rolled my eyes. ‘Well obviously, since you’re accusing us of something.’

  ‘Your car rego was taken down by a witness.’

  I raised an eyebrow. ‘And?’

  ‘And what?’

  ‘So one of our cars was seen in the area. So what?’

  ‘You were ID’d by witnesses.’

  ‘Somebody there knew us?’ I said.

  He started to look a little less smug. ‘No, but…they identified you from photos.’

  ‘Really?’ I gave him a great mix of condescending and incredulous. ‘So you’ve gone and shown these people photos of us and asked if we’re the people they saw. You have an ID that will never stand up in court then, if that’s what you have.’

  Kennedy was chewing on a wasp, trying to maintain a confident composure.

  ‘And I’ll bet you don’t even have a complaint from these two turkeys you’ve mentioned,’ I continued.

  ‘It doesn’t matter…’

  ‘It does.’ I cut him off as I got up and crossed the floor. ‘We all know it matters, Kennedy. Now we’ve got a business to run, so off you go.’

  I shooed him towards the door and he backed up rapidly. ‘Go and have some morning tea, or go to a meeting or whatever it is that you do to get through the day.’ I felt my lip curl. ‘God forbid you should try and be a policeman of some sort.’

  He stepped backwards over the threshold. ‘This isn’t over, Crowley.’

  ‘You bore me.’ I closed the door firmly in his face. I turned back to the other two. I could hear Kennedy muttering to himself on the other side of the door.

  ‘We’ve got work to do,’ I said.

  ***

  All signs were pointing to this being an inside job, and Molly agreed with Dan’s theory that the concierge, Kyle, had to be involved.

  It was too huge a coincidence for a member of a burglary and car theft gang to be working at the Albert Club when a member had his house broken into and his car stolen, and that guy not to be involved. Molly’s general opinion was that if it walked like a duck and quacked, it probably wasn’t a rooster.

  But that wasn’t to say that nobody else was involved as well. The fact that it was all tied together with a card game that Kyle had no control over left the natural conclusion that one of the other card players was also involved. But who, and why?

  While Dan took himself off to the Accident and Medical centre for a check-up – and an inevitable two or three hour wait, being a Saturday – Molly got down to work. Mike had gone off to look at open homes, being that he wanted to get back into the market after selling his apartment, and she had the office to herself with pure, blissful silence.

  She changed the radio station to Magic, an AM station she’d found a while ago that played hits of the 50s, 60s and 70s. While Leo Sayer bemoaned having lost Mandy – after all, she came and gave without taking, which was always a good thing in a relationship – Molly made herself a fragrant blackberry tea and warmed a home-made spinach and feta in the microwave. She added butter, there being no real substitute for it despite the otherwise-healthy muffin, and parked herself at her desk.

  Each of the three of them had their own particular set of skills, and the business did well because of it. Dan was the front man with the Police detective background. He could walk the walk and talk the talk. Mike still did the heavy lifting, the jobs where some muscle may be required, but he was constantly learning his trade as an investigator and getting better all the time.

  Molly herself was the gel that held it all together, whether that was schmoozing clients and running the office, sorting out the odd little tiff between the boys, or doing investigations herself. When she and Dan had first started out in business she was supposed to be part time, but it had never worked out that way. Still, she figured, it beat doing housework or earning money for someone else.

  She tucked one foot under her, took a sip of blackberry tea, and let her fingers do the walking.

  In short order she had news articles about the Kings of the City and their escapades, mostly focussed around the big bust Dan had been involved in back in the day. She ran the names of the players through a search engine and got more articles about their other court cases. All of them were bad criminals and had received decent terms of imprisonment, but she calculated that most of them would now be out and about again.

  There was a lot of information on their social media sites, being that they were no smarter than most folk and laid their lives bare for the world to see. More than that, they seemed to revel in it. There were pictures of all the players posing with cars, bundles of money, strippers, drinking alcohol and smoking weed. Classy stuff.

  She made an electronic file of screenshots but also printed pages off and made a physical file. Technology was all well and good, but Chase Investigations was more old-school than many. None of the original Kings of the City were listed as being directors or shareholders on the Companies Office website, nor did they appear in the Land Registry records.

  It was what she had expected. She added these pages to the file and had just begun a new phase of similar searches on the card players when Mike arrived back. He had a sports drink in one hand and a sheaf of papers in the other, and a scowl on his face.

  He grunted and made for his desk, sitting down with a heavy sigh. Molly popped the last piece of muffin in her mouth and gave him a minute before speaking.

  ‘Cup of tea? Everything’s better with a cup of tea.’

  He lifted his eyes, scowled some more and muttered, ‘No thanks.’

  ‘Well then.’ Molly rolled away from her desk so he had her full attention. ‘What’s up? The open home’s no good?’

  Mike rubbed his face and grumbled to himself. ‘If I had an extra couple of hundred k I’d be alright,’ he said. ‘I’ve only been out of the market a few months but it’s shot up again. Even though I’m a cash buyer I’m still competing against families of Chinese and Indians that pool their money.’

  He ran a hand through his hair and locked his hands on top of his head, letting out an exasperated sigh. ‘It’s not easy.’

  Molly nodded sympathetically. ‘Is it just the house-hunting that’s not easy?’

  He played for time with a frown. ‘As opposed to…?’

  ‘How are you doing, in yourself?’

  Mike averted his gaze, his shields coming down. It had been some months since he had found Sarah dead in his apartment. The pretty flight attendant had lived in the same complex and Mike had been accused of her murder. It had been a stressful time until his name was cleared, due in no small way to the efforts of his two friends.

  ‘It’s okay,’ Molly said quietly. ‘You know we’re here if you ever want to talk.’

  Mike nodded and caught her eye. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘Thanks.’

  Molly paused for a moment before nodding to herself and rolling back to her desk. That was enough for today.

  Ten

  Sunday had been and gone in a whirlwind of open homes. Mike had started the day with a hard workout but found he had to end it with a long run as well to work off his frustration.

  The property market was brutal and he had no time for pushy agents or greedy vendors who wanted a fortune for a slum. “Make your own mark on this hidden gem” was really code for “Spend your life savings doing up a half-finished project because the owners ran out of cash”. He was about at his wits’ end.

  On top of that, Dan had been moaning in detail about how broken he was after Friday night’s escapades. Mike didn’t know how Molly put up with it. His mate needed a slap and a concrete pill. When they both got on the phone he’d beaten a hasty exit on a coffee run, just to get some peace.

  When he strode into their favourite café with money in his poc
ket and caffeine on his mind, he almost literally bumped into the community constable. He sidestepped quickly as Buck turned away from the counter with a cup in his hand and Buck recoiled with surprise.

  The relationship between Mike and Buck had never been close. Neither of them really saw what Dan saw in the other, but they tolerated each other and had settled into a truce of sorts with their mutual friend as the buffer.

  ‘Oh hi,’ he said awkwardly, ‘sorry.’

  ‘All good mate.’ Mike gave a wry smile. ‘You away with the fairies?’

  Buck cocked an eyebrow, wondering if he was having the mickey taken out of him.

  ‘Something like that,’ he said. ‘Work stuff.’

  Mike sniffed. ‘Boss stuff?’

  Buck gave him a quizzical look.

  ‘Dan said he was busting your hump,’ Mike said. ‘Nothing new there.’

  ‘True.’ Buck took a sip of his coffee and they stepped aside to let an older couple get to the counter. ‘Except now I have to report direct to him.’

  Mike’s eyebrows shot up. ‘That sounds like fun, not.’

  ‘Huh.’ Buck grunted. ‘You’re right, it’s not.’

  He paused. It seemed like Mike was opening the door for him, but he wasn’t sure yet whether he wanted to step through it. He could feel Mike’s gaze on him and it weighed heavily. He shuffled his feet and lifted his cup. ‘Anyway, gotta go. Things to do.’

  He headed for the door and Mike watched him go. The aroma of freshly ground coffee was teasing his nostrils. Something about Buck and his situation bugged him though.

  ‘Hey,’ he said, going after him. ‘Wait up.’

  Buck paused on the footpath, his coffee in his hand. He was edgy and wanted to get going. Mike could see the tension in his shoulders and face.

  ‘Do you know why?’ Mike said.

  ‘Know what?’ Buck said. Irritable.

  Mike took a breath and resisted the urge to snap back.

  ‘Why you’re reporting to him.’

  Buck gave him an “isn’t it obvious” look.

  ‘So what’re you gunna do about it?’

  Buck frowned. ‘Nothing I can do about it. I don’t make the rules.’

  ‘Yeah, but you decide how you play them.’ Seeing the confusion in the other man’s face, he continued. ‘The bosses set the rules, right? That doesn’t mean everything’s hard and fast; you decide how you’re going to react to something that happens.’

  ‘Doesn’t work like that,’ Buck said. ‘We’re a pseudo-military organisation. We do as we’re told.’

  ‘Trust me mate, even the military has some flexibility.’ Fifteen years in the Army allowed Mike to speak with authority. ‘It’s up to you whether you take some control or whether you just become a victim.’

  Buck bristled and Mike held up a hand to ease him down.

  ‘All I’m saying is don’t let people run your life for you. It’s up to you.’

  ‘It’s not that simple.’

  ‘It is.’ Mike shrugged his shoulders. ‘Life is simple; people make it hard.’ He crooked a grin. ‘And if that doesn’t work, just smack him in the mouth. It worked for Dan.’

  ‘Yeah, it worked really well.’ There was a hint of bitterness in Buck’s tone.

  ‘In the long run, yeah it did.’ Mike eyed him, figuring he’d said enough. He was already pushing the boundaries of their relationship as it was. ‘Anyway, leave ya to it mate.’

  He made to go but Buck held his hand out. They shook firmly.

  ‘Thanks,’ Buck said. Mike could hear the emotion in his voice. It made him uncomfortable. He’d passed the message on and now he just wanted to go.

  ‘All good.’

  ‘I hear you’re house-hunting,’ Buck said.

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘Got a good agent?’

  ‘Doing it myself.’

  Buck nodded. ‘I’ll flick you a phone number for the agent I used. She’s really good.’

  Mike nodded too. ‘Sweet. Cheers.’

  There was an awkward pause before Mike moved again.

  ‘Good luck,’ he said. He pushed back through the café doors and Buck watched him go, a thoughtful expression on his face.

  ***

  I was taking enough medication to make me rattle like a pill bottle but still I ached. Maybe I just needed to harden up. I certainly wasn’t getting much sympathy from Molly and even less from Mike. I’d given him an update but the look on his face told me he wanted to slap me. So much for brotherly solidarity.

  The swelling in my knuckles had gone down but they were still grazed. My hip was stiff and sore – okay, I might have played on it a little, for all the good it did – and the rest of my body was just sore. I was keen to meet the driver of that Mercedes again.

  Molly had done background on the members of Dearlove’s cards group. Nothing much had come of it.

  His best mate Chappy lived in Kohimarama and owned an import/export business. His business seemed to be doing okay but personally he was in poor shape financially. Kinnear had land out at Pukekohe and seemed to fancy himself as a bit of a man about town. Credit cards loaded up and he lived the high life, but he also had the income to pay for it.

  Ducky was retired and lived in Devonport. He had interests in a couple of companies and appeared to dabble in commercial property. He also had a conviction dating back twenty years for a domestic assault on his now ex-wife. That had put paid to his career in local body politics.

  Molly was taking a call from what sounded a prospective new client. Mike shot out for coffees and I rang a contact at the Probation Service. Kim Bell had been a probie for longer than I could remember and knew every man and his dog in her patch. She had the voice of a career smoker, rode a Vespa and spoke three languages.

  She answered the phone with her usual manners. She had my number saved.

  ‘Well that’s a reminder I need a pap smear,’ she rasped down the line with a throaty chuckle. ‘Must be three years since I heard from you, Danny boy.’

  I chuckled myself. ‘’bout that, K-Bell,’ I agreed. ‘How’s the wiliest probation officer in the upper north?’

  She gave a snort. ‘Must be a big favour to warrant such a suck-up.’

  K-Bell. Such a cynic.

  We chatted for a bit before getting down to business. K-Bell knew the Kings of the City well and had supervised some of them in days gone by.

  ‘Those guys are pretty much past it now,’ she said. ‘A couple are still floating around but most of them have kids and suchlike now. They still pop up from time to time, in fact one just went back inside a while back, but mostly they’ve gone their own ways.’

  ‘All grown up,’ I said. ‘Unbelievable.’

  ‘Well sometimes we do manage to get them on the right track,’ K-Bell said, a defensive edge to her tone. ‘Or close to it.’

  ‘I didn’t mean that, mate,’ I said. ‘I just thought they were hard core types.’

  ‘They were,’ she said, ‘but in their day. It’s amazing what a bunch of rug rats and a wife will do. You know that.’

  ‘True.’ I watched Molly across the office. She was back on to me but it was enough. K-Bell was right; it was amazing what a difference it made.

  ‘How many ankle-biters’ve you got now? Must be at least three.’

  I felt a twinge in my chest. ‘Same as you,’ I said. ‘No time for that sort of carry on.’

  ‘Oh come on,’ she rasped, ‘I always saw you coaching kids’ footy and going to school discos.’

  So did I. Men plan and the gods laugh. We have to live with our regrets as best we can. I changed tack.

  ‘Who got the lag?’

  ‘Your mate, Gonzo.’ She cackled. ‘He still remembers you.’

  I remembered him too. He was a skinny meth addict with a huge honk and a bad attitude. He’d taken an instant dislike to me when we kicked in his door. His prize pet, a baby-eating staffy cross, had charged us. I’d given it a burst from a fire extinguisher, straight in the face. It di
dn’t like that much, but neither did Gonzo. He tried to take my head off so he got a burst too.

  ‘Please pass on my regards,’ I said. ‘I wish him well with his career.’

  ‘I’ll tell him when he’s out in four years,’ she said. ‘Although I recommended jail, so he may not be too happy with me either.’

  ‘What’d he go down for?’

  ‘Arson. Set fire to a witness’ house.’

  ‘That’s a step up.’ The Kings had been burglars, not firebugs. Arson is a very personal type of crime with a particular psychopathy to it.

  ‘He was always a loose cannon though. That was a beef of his own, nothing to do with his crew.’

  I made a mental note to check the smoke alarms at home.

  ‘So the Kings are dead and buried?’ I said.

  ‘Sort of. I did hear a whisper that there’s a new crew using the name, doing the same sort of thing. I don’t have any names though, if that’s what you’re after.’ She coughed and I could feel the wet splat in my ear. ‘This some private eye thing you’re working on?’

  ‘Yeah, a stolen classic car.’

  ‘That’d be their game.’

  We talked some more but she didn’t know Kyle. She ran him through the system while I was on the line.

  ‘Not much here,’ she said. ‘Just driving stuff, got some fines and that’s it. Dunno what the cops have got though.’

  Probably not much, if he’d been vetted properly for his job.

  We rung off and I leaned back in my chair, putting my feet up on my desk. I did some of my best pondering with my feet on my desk. It was interesting that the original Kings of the City had moved on and been replaced by a new generation of crooks.

  The cycle of life.

  Younger, newer detectives had replaced me. They were now in the manic, crazy world I had been in. I had loved it when I was there, and no doubt they would too. But times changed and people moved on. The manic, crazy world of PIs wasn’t much different, but the pay was better and I usually got home on time.

  Looking across the office at my beautiful wife, I knew I wouldn’t change what I had for the world.

  Eleven

  The English country house was lit up from inside and the yellow arms reached out onto the pebbled driveway as I pulled up.