Detectives
Chapter One - Introductions
On a cold and moonlit night, a warehouse sat tucked away from the streets of London in some deserted, out-of-the-way place. It had been long since abandoned, no doubt due to the construction of new and more efficient roads that had made its location too much of a bother for enterprising businesses to make use of it. This was the sort of place that an average person would take one look at and walk the other way. There was something about it, the way the metal on the walls had rusted to form some kind of disturbing tear tracks. The boarded up windows, the cars sitting outside it that nobody seemed to own, the empty needles and shell casings that were routinely found inside. Suffice to say that this warehouse was considered by all of London to be a place of ill repute, and no normal person would ever wish to find him or herself inside. Which brings us to the people who had found themselves inside this warehouse.
“This reminds me of a movie.” Said the blonde haired, trench coat wearing man.
“Feel free to indulge me, Mr. Gilbert.” Drawled the second man, taking a drag on a cigarette with one hand and lazily waving a gun around with the other. “I do so enjoy a man’s final words, which movie does this remind you of?”
“Oh, I dunno. All of them?”
“There is a reason for that, I’m sure.”
“Indulge me.” Gilbert smirked, “Final words and all that.”
The gunman paused for a moment and looked down at his adversary kneeling before him, there was a glint in his eye and he took another deep drag. Gilbert, meanwhile, gave the impression that he was hanging onto the gunman's every word as he fiddled with his handcuffs behind his back.
“These days nobody seems to have a flair for the theatrics, you know.” The man said, smoke drifting from his mouth as he spoke. “But, dear boy, while it may be a cliché I think you’ll find that it is the most efficient method with which to dispatch a human life. Especially if said life just happens to be a pesky private detective poking his nose in where it doesn’t belong.”
“I respectfully disagree, on three counts. If you don’t mind…?” The man made a gesture with his gun as if to say ‘do go on’. “First of all, you’re not the only one with a penchant for theatrics, as evidenced by the badass speech I’m about to make. Second of all, the problem with following a cliché is that anyone with half a brain can see it coming, efficient but easy to predict and counter.”
The man let out a single laugh, “and third?”
“It wasn’t just my nose in your affairs, which brings me to my conclusion. You pissed off the wrong detective agency, dear boy. You pissed off a two man army, and half of that army is going to put you through a world of hurt.”
“We have already dealt with your associate. Mr. Fox will not be coming to your rescue.”
“I’m afraid I must respectfully disagree once again, the men you sent after him are probably already on their way to jail, or hospital I suppose.”
“You place a lot of faith in him.”
“I wouldn’t really call it faith.”
“Neither would I, I would call it false hope.”
“I wouldn’t call it that either, I’d call it trust. I know for a fact that he has the same chance of evading your men as I do, people often tell us we’re practically the same person.”
“And yet we managed to catch you, Mr. Gilbert.”
“Mmm, that you did.”
“I suppose that makes him your better then.”
Gilbert burst into laughter at this, much to the man’s surprise. “Aheheheh aheh, oh man. No, no I would definitely not call him that.”
“Well what would you call him then?”
“Well I’ll tell you one thing, those people who say we’re the same person. They’re almost right.” He paused for a moment as if for dramatic effect. “There are some subtle differences.”
“Indeed, would you care to name one?” The man sneered.
“I’ll name three, I let you catch me, and I am much better at getting myself out of handcuffs than he is.”
The man backed away and thumbed back the hammer on the pistol he was holding, still with a confident smirk on his lips. “Once again, you leave out the third.”
“He’s much better at dynamic entries.”
With that, the large skylight above them shattered, shards of glass rained down upon both men. With his gun still pointed at Gilbert, the man glanced upwards to see a second, brown haired trench coat wearing man abseiling through the air with a rope tied around his waist. Then, with a cry of alarm, the man stopped several meters short of the ground and was flipped upside down. His trench coat dangled over his face and the man with the gun let out another laugh.
“Mr. Fox, I presume.”
“Damn straight!” Fox exclaimed, his voice muffled by the thick trench coat covering his face. “You would do well to remember that name, for today you have met your match! Also, hey Matt.”
“What went wrong, Will?” Matt replied, his eyes flicking between the man with the gun and the detective dangling a couple of feet behind him.
“Misjudged the distance.” Will replied, blood rushing to his head. He attempted to hoist himself up in order to see if he could untie the rope around his waist. “Didn’t bring enough rope.”
“Rookie mistake.”
“Would you two shut up” The man hissed through gritted teeth.
“Hang on I have another question.” Will said quickly, “Did you swap his gun yet?”
“Yeah I did it when he was carrying me to the car.” Matt grinned, watching the colour drain from the man’s face. “This is why you have henchmen, dear boy.”
“Yeah seriously” Will continued, retrieving a knife from his boot and getting to work on the rope. “You’re like the worst criminal I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a lot of criminals. You're just a wannabe cop-killer.”
“He keeps making references to theatrics, y’know.” Matt went on, “I think he’s watched too many movies.”
“Obviously he hasn’t seen enough, otherwise he’d have noticed that the bad guys always screw up and get caught. I'll bet he kept trying to out-lecture you when it would have been far more badass to just shoot you in the face mid-speech?” Will asked.
"Pretty much."
“Oh and Matt I’ll need something to break my fall if you don’t mind.”
“My pleasure.” Matt said, standing up and tossing the now unlocked handcuffs clattering into the darkness. The man pulled the trigger in vain over and over again, only to be met by empty clicks. Matt threw a punch, hitting the man square in the jaw and sending him staggering backwards. At that exact moment, the rope Will was cutting through gave way and he fell in a crumpled heap on top of the gunman.
“Teamwork!” Will yelled, rolling off the man who stayed on the floor groaning in pain.
“YEAH!” Matt shouted as the two of them high fived, “Now let’s get this guy to jail, I reckon we earned our paycheque on this one.”
*****
After a short ordeal involving searching around in a dark warehouse for a pair of handcuffs that had been haphazardly thrown into the shadows, the two men emerged into the crisp night air, criminal in tow. As they walked to their car, headlights sprung into life and blinded all three men. There was the sound of a car door opening and a silhouette appeared before the glaring beams of light.
“Bloody hell, would you turn those lights down or something? God damn.” Will called out. The headlights went out and were replaced by a single flashlight as a second figure exited the car. “Oh, it’s you guys.”
Before them stood a man and a woman, the former was simply wearing a vest despite the cold weather; the latter was more suitably dressed.
“Detective Westin” Matt nodded, “Detective Iversen.”
“Oh, what?” Will turned to Matt with an annoyed look on his face, “You called the police? Just once I wanna be able to take credit for the work we do, I mean really what’s the point?”
“We’re private detectives, Will. We can’t be in the spotlight.”
“That's not true, we investigate the public, we're public detectives."
“There's no such thing as a public detective."
"What did I just say, Matt?"
“Ahem.” Iversen cleared her throat, “I don’t mean to interrupt but it’s freezing out here, could you finish your conversation after we take the criminal into custody?”
“I see you guys’ve roughed him up a bit.” Westin said, taking out his own flashlight and revealing the man’s bruised jaw and bleeding lip. “Self defense, was it?"
Ignoring Will’s annoyed huffing, Matt pushed the man over to the official detectives. The man stumbled slightly but was stopped dead by Westin’s fist connecting painfully with his stomach; he dropped to his knees and gasped for air.
“Victor!” Iversen scolded him, half-heartedly.
“Isn’t that police brutality?” Will gibed.
“This bastard put two of my friends in the hospital, good officers too.” Vic muttered, “Besides, after what this shitstain threatened to do to me, I'm not losing any sleep over it. Not so tough now that you're not on the other end of a phone, are ya?"
“Y'know it was probably a good thing my partner called you.” Will chimed, “another minute alone with him and I'd have given him what-for myself. I mean even back in there if Matt here hadn't stopped me I doubt his own mother'd be able to recognise him."
“You fell on him.” Matt said, exasperated. Iversen chuckled and a smirk broke out on Westin’s face.
“For the love of God, Matt, how am I supposed to be intimidating with you undermining me left and right?”
“That was supposed to be intimidating?” Matt asked, “Anyway that’s my job, leave it to the professionals.”
“I’ll leave you to the professionals, I’m going to the car. Have fun talking to Detective Overcompensation here.”
“Hey!” Iversen exclaimed, offended.
“And I fell on him on purpose!” Will yelled out before getting in the car and slamming the door shut.
“Don’t worry about him.” Matt said, “You guys can handle things from here?”
“What do we look like, children?” Vic asked, hoisting the dishevelled looking man onto his feet, “I think the two of us can handle this shitstain.”
“Right, well-” Matt was interrupted by a long blast of the horn from his car. “Uhhh, I should get back to him. Good working with you guys.”
He offered a handshake to each of them, Vic turned away and began shoving the man into the back of the police car, being decidedly careless and bashing the man’s head against the roof of the car as he did so. Iversen, however, accepted the handshake with a smile.
“Thanks for calling us, Mr. Gilbert.” She said, “Keep up the good work.”
“You too.”
“C’mon, Becca.” Vic said, stifling a yawn. “I wanna try and get some sleep tonight.”
Matt headed back to the car and hopped in the driver’s seat, he followed the police car out onto the main streets before they headed separate ways. He glanced over at Will who was sitting with his arms crossed.
“You can’t seriously be mad at me for calling the police.” He sighed.
“I’m not mad at you.” Will replied, curtly.
“Yes you are.”
“No I’m not.”
“I know how this goes, Will.”
“No you don’t.”
“Yes I do. You’re always like this once we get done with a case: ‘oh we never get any credit for our work! We put ourselves at risk every day and for what? Why can’t I be a celebrity detective?’” Matt went on in a whiney imitation of Will’s voice.
“I just want some recognition, man.” In a tone startlingly similar to Matt’s imitation, “By the time I retire nobody’ll believe me when I say I’m single-handedly responsible for solving all of those crimes.”
“Good, you didn’t single-handedly solve them.”
“Well you’ll have long since drunk yourself to death so you won’t be there to argue.”
“Don’t escalate the situation, Will, you always escalate the situation.”
“Oh I’m gonna escalate it, Matt. You have no idea how high this situation is gonna get, we’re beginning our slow ascent now and we’ve got a ways to go.”
*****
“WILL FOR CHRIST’S SAKE YOU BURNT OUR HOUSE DOWN!” Matt shouted.
“Well you shouldn’t have built it out of wood then.” Will replied.
“That’s it, I’m done with Minecraft.” Matt said, turning off his computer and sitting back.
“Fine, I’ll get to work on this TNT then.”
Matt put his hands over his face. “We need a new case.”
Chapter Two – The Woman with the Broken Fingers
Jane Boyden did not often make a habit of walking through the streets of London at night, but tonight had simply been one of those nights. It would not have been an overstatement to say that this had been one of the worst nights of Jane’s entire life, and it was only Tuesday. She had been kept at the office far later than she needed to be by her boss for a one-on-one evaluation of her performance, in which she had made it very clear that she was well versed in the procedures of filing for sexual harassment suits.
She wasn’t sure whether it was the speed at which she had climbed the corporate ladder or just the fact that she looked good in a suit that lead to the rumours that she slept around, but she tried not to let it bother her.
Her boss keeping her late wasn’t the only reason she was walking at night, she had been given a job to do, and she was determined to see it through. It wasn’t a job for money; it was for something far more valuable in her position. Favours, recognition and respect from people in high places. Once she showed them that she had integrity, that she was someone who they could trust, and then she would be on her way up.
She smiled to herself, the thoughts of ambition all but driving away the cold. Her mind drifted towards thoughts of her car, which was currently being fixed up in an auto-repair garage. Just another speed bump on her road to success, soon enough she wouldn’t even have to worry about cars sold to her with the main selling point being that they were ‘affordable’. She could have two cars, and if one broke down she’d just drive the second one down to the car dealership and buy another one.
Just as this thought was crossing her mind, Jane heard something in the alleyway to her right. She turned to see a man lying on his front, with his left hand he was weakly lifting himself up to look at her; his eyes were full of panic. She gasped and would have screamed if her voice hadn't caught in her throat, his mouth was opening and closing but there were no words escaping his lips, just a dry rasping sound that Jane was sure was supposed to be ‘help’. She froze for a moment as he began to crawl slowly towards her before collapsing and lying still.
Her first thought was to just keep on walking, but she hesitated. The people she was now working for would not tolerate delays, and she could not afford to be held up in a criminal investigation right now. Every logical and ambitious bone in her body told her to ignore the man and to get the job done.
Jane took out her mobile phone, dialed the emergency services, asked for an ambulance and proceeded to have the final conversation of her life.
*****
It was pretty late into the night, and Will was sitting in the glow of his laptop, going over old cases and news reports. It had been just over a week since the last case, the only potential clients that had shown up on their doorstep recently had been a husband and wife who had appeared separately saying that they suspected the other one was cheating on them. Matt was asleep in his room, unwilling as ever to join in with Will’s hobby.
There was a buzzing sound, and Will glanced over at the coffee table in front of him to see his phone vibrating its way towards the edge. He caught it as it tumbled over the side and took a look at the caller ID, his face lit up at the name. Detective Chief Inspector Tuersley calling at this time of night could only mean one thing.
“Hey Andrew, what’s up?” He asked, excited.
“Hey.” A tired sounding voice came down the phone, “Thought you’d wanna know that there’s, uhhh, this body that we found.”
“Awesome, where is it?” Will asked quickly, before deciding to back pedal a bit, “By which I mean, that’s terrible to hear. Where is it?”
“It’s, uhhh. Hang on.” There was the sound of rustling paper, “It’s on Wolsely Street? It’s just off of Jamaica Road, I think.”
“Alright, you on your way there now?” Will asked, getting up and walking across the room to Matt’s bedroom door.
“Uhhh, no. I’m uhhh, well they only just called me and I’m still in bed sort of.”
“Haha, okee dokee man I’ll see you there.”
“I think I’ll just let the team handle this one actually.” This was followed by a long yawn.
“You remain a shining example of what London’s finest has to offer.”
“Uhhh, hang on.”
Will hung up and began hammering on Matt’s door. There was a loud mixture of slurred obscenities hurled at him in response, so he knew Matt would be ready soon. He set about making some coffee in preparation for the all-nighter he was about to pull. He felt as if the cobwebs in his brain had been blown away, he once again had something to focus on.
*****
“How did Tuersley get that job, anyway?” Matt was saying whilst Will fiddled with a Sat Nav on the dashboard of their car.
“He was one of the best, still is, probably.” Will replied, “Only when he wants to be though.”
“Which isn’t too often these days.”
“But hey, we shouldn’t complain.” Will grinned, holding up his phone. “It sure pays to have pushovers in high places. Oh man, we’re almost there. Turn left here.”
“You really shouldn’t get so excited over a murder, you know.” Matt frowned, turning the corner onto Wolsely Street.
“Can’t help it, my mind works in mysterious ways, may as well embrace the obsession and use it to catch criminals.”
“Alright, there’s the crime scene.” Matt said, parking the car across the road from a gathering of policemen and police tape. “Try not to offend the armed law enforcers.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
The two of them got out of their car and walked over to the police tape where an officer asked them to show him their badges.
“We’re not cops.” Matt explained, “I’m P.I Gilbert, this is P.I Fox. We got a call, we work cases alongside your detectives all the time.”
“Sorry, it’s called ‘Police tape’ for a reason.” Said the officer; “I can’t let you into a crime scene.”
“But then how are we supposed to do your jobs for you?” Will asked with a friendly smile before glancing at Matt, “I tried.”
Matt elbowed him in the side while suppressing a grin, the officer looked like he was about to object when there was a shout from behind him. He turned to see Detective Iversen walking out from an alleyway.
“Let them through, Phil.” She called, “I can vouch for them.”
Without waiting for the officer to respond, Will lifted the police tape and stepped through. Matt followed with an apologetic look on his face. Becca gestured towards the alleyway.
“The body’s down there.” She said, “Pete’s already looking it over, Vic’s gone off to interview the neighbours but nobody seems to have seen anything.”
She lead the way down the alley towards the body, it was certainly an odd scene. The victim was a young woman, well dressed aside from the rips and bloodstains around her chest and arms. She was lying on her side, with her arms stretched out in front of her and her wrists together. Each of her fingers had been very obviously broken and snapped backwards.
“Why are her hands together like that? Was she tied up?” Will asked.
“I thought that too.” Nodded the longhaired coroner, Peter Hackney. “But there aren’t any marks or abrasions to suggest that she was bound. Cause of death would obviously be blood loss from the multiple stab wounds to the chest, not a quick death I assure you. Jane Boyden, by the way.”
“Did you change your name? It suits you.”
“She put up a fight, too.” He ignored Will’s comment, kneeling and pointing to the victim’s bloodied arms, “Albeit quite an ineffectual one, defensive wounds on the arms. The killer was inexperienced, however, he was stabbing downwards into the chest rather than upwards.”
“Like in Psycho?” Matt perked up slightly.
“Mmm, no doubt the mark of an amateur, it’s shoddy work really.” He paused. “I’m not entirely sure how to explain the fingers being broken.”
“Yeah you guys should probably look into that.” Will said.
“Yes, thank you, Mr. Fox.” Peter said, narrowing his eyes; “I’ll be able to find out more once we get her back to the morgue.”
“Pretty expensive suit by the looks of it.” Matt pointed out, “Could have been a mugging gone wrong.”
“I don’t see how that could explain the broken fingers.” Peter shook his head.
“Maybe she was holding her purse or something.” Will said, stepping past the body and further down the alley. “Broke her fingers to get at it.”
“No, she would have let go after they broke the first one.” Peter explained, “And if they were trying to get it after she had bled to death, rigor mortis would not have set in quickly enough for it to be necessary to break every finger either.”
“Torture, then?” Matt asked.
Will moved further down the alleyway while the others speculated; he didn’t see any officers as he walked. He assumed that a mixture of working late and the early warning that Andrew had given him meant that they hadn’t canvassed the whole area yet. Will didn’t have a particularly high opinion of London’s police department, but he couldn’t complain; so long as he and Matt could pick up the slack when they faltered, they’d stay in business.
He exited the other side of the alley and saw a group of decidedly shady looking men clustered together on the other side of the street, and saw no reason not to approach them.
*****
“Here’s her phone.” Peter said, handing it over to Iversen before returning to the body, “I took the liberty of unlocking it for you.”
“Invasion of privacy, Peter.” She chided, looking through the phone anyway.
“Yes, well I don’t think she’ll mind, and by the looks of it nobody else will either.”
“What do you mean?” Matt asked.
“There are barely any contacts on here.” Becca frowned, flicking through on the touchscreen. “Just her home phone, work number, hairdressers… Doesn’t look like she had many friends.”
“Well that’s depressing.” Matt sighed.
“And seven missed calls from the same number within the last two days, guess someone cares after all. I’d say that’s worth looking into.”
“Aha, Detective.” Peter beckoned her over and held up Jane’s right hand while shining a small light on it, “It was hard to tell because of the angle of her finger and the lack of light, but she was definitely wearing a ring on this hand.”
“Robbery’s looking more and more likely.” Becca breathed, “It never ceases to amaze me what people will do for cash.”
“They didn’t take her phone.” Said Will, who had suddenly appeared to peer over her shoulder to get a look at the hand. “And there’s still the fingers.”
“Where did you get to?” Becca asked.
“Oh, nowhere. I just had a bit of a wander around.” Will very deliberately turned up the collar of his trench coat before turning and heading back to the car. “C’mon, Matt. We’ve got places to be.”
Matt waved goodbye before catching up, “You really think you’re Sherlock Holmes, don’t you?” He chuckled.
“A preposterous deduction, my dear Gilbert.” Will scoffed, “I do kinda wish I had a pipe and one of those cool hats though.”
“So did you find something? I mean it was a small blessing that Detective Westin wasn’t there, but still, I hate babysitting the police.”
“Yep, I got us a lead.” Will said as they reached the car, he rested both of his arms on the roof and smirked. “I talked to a bunch of decidedly shady looking characters, turns out there are some new faces on the streets. They told me where I can find them, as good a place as any to start.”
“How’d you get them to tell you that?”
“Elementary, my dear Watson.”
“You know he never actually said that in the books.”
“Doesn’t make it any less cool.”
“So what’s the plan?”
“Oh, well, we’re gonna walk into a crack den and make a citizen’s arrest.”
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Originally Posted by Mr.Evilmidget
Not as often as Felix, but more often than Detective Fox. Also you are generally wittier in regular conversation than is Detective Fox.