Catchee Monkey: A Rex & Eddie Mystery (Rex & Eddie Mysteries Book 1)

by Sean Cameron

  “Finished?”

  “I just wanted to make sure I was understood?”

  “Yes. I understand,” Eddie said, exasperated.

  Rex tilted his head. “I don’t understand.”

  Eddie pointed at Rex. “My advice is to let that slide.”

  The officer took a deep breath. “So, the deaths in Cloisterham are mostly made up of murders, manslaughters, accidents—”

  “Please,” Eddie said. “If you are going to insist on doing this, may I go to the toilet?”

  ***

  Brown marched Eddie to the men’s room. Once inside, Eddie thought something wasn’t right. Maybe it was needing a potty break when his life was in danger. He thought adrenaline and testosterone were meant to take over, but here he was at the urinal.

  When does Jack Bauer find time to use the bathroom? He wondered. During the ad breaks?

  With his hands thoroughly washed, Eddie opened the door with a paper towel. In the hallway, Brown listened on his mobile phone. He raised his finger to imply "wait a minute" and continued to talk. While he waited, Eddie glanced at the photos on the wall. There was a picture of a policemen’s ball from the seventies, a picture of an egg and spoon race with policemen and their children, and a third picture showed a charity dinner of police officers sitting with their biggest donors. Next to the Police Chief, sat Terry Palmer.

  Brown answered questions with “yes” or “no.” Eddie couldn’t pick up any details, only Brown’s agitation.

  He tiptoed a few steps to a turn in the corridor and found a staffroom. Through the door’s window he saw police play pool and watch football on a large flatscreen TV. A small gold plaque on the door said, Staffroom renovation made possible by the generous donation of Terrance Palmer. “My thanks to the boys in blue, Terry.”

  “Oi,” Brown said. “No walking off.” He clicked his fingers and pointed at the floor near him, commanding Eddie like a dog.

  “Understood.” Brown hung up and looked Eddie up and down. “You done?”

  Brown and Eddie re-entered the interview room. Rex and the officer sat back laughing. Rex rolled his tongue while the officer wiggled his ears.

  “But can you do this?” Rex’s tongue touched his nose.

  “I can’t. You win. You’re the bigger freak.”

  “I told you. You can’t out-freak me.”

  Brown banged his hands on the table. “Cut it out.”

  “Sorry boss. We’ve made progress. Rex here says he copied the documents proving their case.”

  “What?” Eddie said. “Why didn’t you say?”

  “You never asked.”

  “I asked if you backed it up.”

  Rex giggled. “You back up files. You copy paper. You can’t back up paper.”

  Brown tensed up. “We best go get these papers of yours then.”

  ELEVEN

  Rex and Eddie sat in the back of Brown’s car as he drove towards their office. Eddie fidgeted as his brain mulled over the police station’s connection with Terry Palmer. If Brown worked for Palmer, like Eddie believed, then they were in trouble.

  Rex sat back and took in the ride. “A real police car. Amazing. Hey, why are these seats so uncomfortable?”

  “They need to be a material that’s easy to clean,” Brown said. “So it won’t absorb any liquids.”

  “What kind of liquids?” Rex said.

  “Bodily fluids.”

  Eddie’s nostrils flared at the idea.

  Rex thought for a second. “What kind of bodily fluids?”

  Brown set his gaze on Rex through the rear-view mirror. “All of them.”

  Rex and Eddie sat upright so the least amount of them touched the seats’ surface.

  Eddie needed to explain to Rex what happened in the corridor. He tapped a text message into his phone while he kept one eye on Brown. He wrote, I think he works for Palmer. Be careful and pressed send.

  Rex’s phone beeped, but he was fixated on the police car’s fixtures.

  “So have you ever called for backup on your radio?”

  “Yes,” Brown said.

  “Did you get a text?” Eddie asked.

  “It’s probably my sister asking about dinner for my nan.”

  “You gonna tell her you’re busy?”

  “Nah.”

  “What if it’s not your nan?”

  Rex scoffed. “No one else texts me but you and my sister. And you’re right here. Why would you be texting me? That would be weird.”

  Eddie bared his teeth as Rex gazed outside and waved at the pedestrians. He smiled like he was being driven in a parade.

  “Rex,” Eddie whispered. He nodded his head at Rex’s phone pocket. Rex read the message and frowned. He showed it to Eddie.

  I think he words for prom we. Be careful.

  Eddie wrote it in such a panic, auto-correct butchered it. He tried to type again but his fingers involuntarily tapped all over the keypad. At least the first message contained actual words, this was complete gibberish.

  Stupid nerves, he thought. You’re gonna get me killed.

  “Palmer,” Eddie whispered while nodding at Brown. Rex furrowed his brow, not understanding the message. “Works for Palm—”

  An emergency stop shoved Eddie’s head into the back of the front seat.

  Brown tutted. “Traffic.”

  Eddie shook it off and leaned his head against the door window. About eight cars in front, he could see people and cars all gathered together.

  The black SUV sped down the other side of the street. Eddie covered his face with his hand to hide from the driver.

  Rex pointed out the window. “That’s the car.” Rex couldn’t see Eddie shake his head. “Excuse me Mister, that’s the SUV that tried to kill us.”

  Brown’s piercing eyes stared at them through the rear-view mirror. They stared back. Rex assumed they were in an impromptu staring contest.

  The silence was broken by loud sirens down the street.

  “Is there something the matter?” Eddie said.

  “I’ll take a look.” Brown stepped out. With a click of his key fob all the car doors locked.

  “This isn’t right.”

  “I know,” Rex said. “He really should have offered for one of us to sit in the front seat.”

  “I mean he can’t lock us in. We haven’t been arrested. He works for Palmer”

  “What makes you think that?”

  The police radio crackled to life. “Fire at three six nine High Street.” It was Brown’s voice.

  Eddie pushed his nose against the window, trying to get a look. “That’s our office.”

  “I have the two arsonists in custody.”

  Rex looked to Eddie with genuine concern.

  “This is bad,” Eddie said.

  “I know, one of them’s gonna get to sit in the front.”

  “We’re the arsonists. They burnt our evidence and now they’re framing us for it.”

  “Should we call the police?”

  “I see a problem with that, don’t you?”

  “Oh, right.”

  Rex and Eddie pulled and pushed at the doors. The bulletproof glass was uncrackable. They rocked the car back and forth while screaming. Outside the car, their screams for help were a mild dull tone. Their frantic actions made pedestrians avoid them more than anything.

  Brown marched back to the car.

  “Rex, stop it. We need to play dumb.”

  “How do we do that?”

  “Just be normal. Or as normal as you can be.”

  Brown entered and buckled up.

  “The street’s blocked off. We best get back to the station and try again later.”

  The police radio crackled to life. “Understood D.I. Brown. Assistance will be ready for you at the station.”

  Brown leaned back in his seat and exhaled slowly. He flicked on the police lights and u-turned the vehicle. In the back window Rex and Eddie watched their office burn.

  “What’s your endgame?” Eddie
said.

  Rex cocked his head. “Buy a house, get a wife, maybe some kids.”

  “Not you. Brown.”

  “I’m just a D.I. in the line of duty.”

  “How’d Palmer find out?”

  Brown gave a smug grin. “I don’t understand the question.”

  “Well, you can lock us up, but we’ll tell the truth. A judge will hear about this.”

  “Unless, you managed to distract me, and I crashed the car. Then you could escape,” Brown said.

  “Good idea,” Rex said. “So, um, what’s your favourite colour?”

  Brown swerved the car off the road and into another car. A big clunk, and the car rocked backwards and forwards.

  “Hey Eddie, I did it.”

  “While I sit here unconscious you kick out the back window.” He turned to the sorry pair and waited. Eddie and Rex sat still, confused. “Do it.”

  Rex laid on his back and kicked at the back window. It did nothing. He kicked again, nothing.

  “This is really hard.”

  Brown pointed his gun at the back window through the steel mesh divider. “You might want to put your fingers in your ears.” Rex and Eddie keenly did as they were told and squeezed up to their nearest door with anticipation.

  The bullet fired a tiny hole into the reinforced glass. A few cracks spread out.

  “Again,” Brown said.

  Rex kicked. Brown nodded toward Eddie. Both kicked away at the back window.

  “For goodness sake.” Brown unlocked the doors. “I’ll work out a story later. Now you escape.”

  “What’s the catch?” Eddie said.

  “Unable to apprehend the two escapees, I shoot them.”

  “Then why do we bother?”

  “Because I’ll definitely kill you if you stay.”

  “He’s bluffing, Rex. If he was going to kill us why not just do it now?”

  Brown cracked a smile. “More paperwork.”

  “I’m convinced.” Rex opened the door and fled.

  “Do I have time to take off my shoes?” Eddie said.

  “Why?”

  “It’s my first wear and they’re giving me blisters.”

  Brown pointed the gun at Eddie. “No.”

  “Fair enough.” Eddie leaped out the car door and raced after Rex.

  The pair ran down the street towards the burning office as Brown fired. They rushed towards a gang of football fans, all wearing the Cloisterham team colours and singing chants. Eddie accidentally bumped into one who shoved him against a wall.

  “Watch where you’re going, you ponce.”

  “Sorry, it’s him. He was disrespecting us. Said anyone that supports Cloisterham is a sad act.”

  “Did he now?” the gang leader grumbled. The football fans backed away and set their sights on Brown. “Come on boys.”

  Brown reloaded his gun as he ran. The football fans spread out and blocked the pavement.

  “You got something to say about Cloisterham F.C?” the leader said.

  Brown pulled out his gun. “Get out of my way.”

  The football fans ran off in opposite directions. Rex and Eddie were gone.

  ***

  Rex and Eddie drank beer and shared a packet of crisps in a corner of The Jolly Codger, a small pub on the High Street with a funny smell. Its wobbly tables meant every inch had been covered by spilt beer at one point or another. The furniture was sticky, and the walls were damp.

  Eddie curled his lip. “This is great.”

  “Really?”

  “No, not really. We’re on the run from gangsters and crooked coppers, we have no money, I bet our car was impounded again, we’re framed fugitives, and I hate this pub.”

  “Why are we here then?”

  “Because no one will look for us here. We don’t know how long we were being followed. Maybe Stacey Lawrence’s phone was tapped and it has been since our first encounter. If that’s the case, they’ve followed us to all our normal places.”

  “Like followed me home to my nan’s?”

  “Yes, your nan’s.”

  “We’ve got to make sure she’s OK.”

  “They’re probably waiting outside your nan’s for us to show up. She’ll be safer with us in hiding. Only trouble is, this place closes at eleven. Then we need a new hiding spot.”

  “How about, we move to Scotland and keep our heads down.”

  “Why Scotland?”

  “It’s across the border. In movies they always go to Mexico. Scotland is our Mexico.”

  “It’s still in the UK.”

  “France?”

  “Absolutely not. We’d be hated.”

  Rex hung his head low. “We don’t seem to have many friends in England at the moment.”

  Eddie put his hand on Rex’s shoulder. “Hey, we have each other. God, that’s a miserable thought.”

  “We could go to Dublin, how many euros are there to a pound at the moment?”

  “It’s usually about one and a half.”

  “How much money do we have?”

  Eddie searched through his wallet. Nothing. He emptied his pockets. “One ten.”

  “One hundred and ten.”

  “No. One pound, ten pence. We can’t even get to Ireland.”

  “Ryan Air might have a deal. A pound could get one of us there.”

  “If by some chance they do, I can’t search their website, because both our phones are out of credit.” Eddie buried his head in his hand. “I’m a grown up, I should have a phone contract by now.”

  “It’s OK Eddie, you can afford phone credit tomorrow, when Stacey gives you the five-grand. You can fly anywhere you want tomorrow.”

  “Are you joking? Stacey's hiding from Palmer. Going to her house is a complete waste of time.”

  “OK, fine,” Rex said. “You got any better ideas?”

  TWELVE

  Rex and Eddie weaved through the busy High Street crowd. The revellers were out for the pubs and clubs. The two detectives managed to walk through unnoticed amongst the drunken singing, puking, and mild bouts of fisticuffs.

  “Stacey’s house is a bit of a walk,” Eddie said. “A good ten miles at least.”

  “We’re making a quick stop first to see Jim Jams.”

  Eddie stopped walking. “No way, not Jim Jams.”

  “Why can’t you two be friends?”

  “He’s a bad influence.”

  “I bet he’s got a car. It’s either Jim Jams or we walk ten miles in the dark, in a town where the police are searching for us.”

  Eddie pursed his lips. “Fine. If you can find him.”

  Rex smiled. “He texted earlier to say he was working the door at The Queen Victoria pub.”

  The pair arrived outside The Queen Victoria where twenty people waited in line. Jim Jams stood tall and proud as he checked IDs at the door. He wasn’t a classically good-looking man, with his big chin and flat nose, but his flair for fashion and friendly demeanour won people over.

  “ID, ID, get your IDs out. Money at the ready,” he called out.

  Jim Jams multi-tasked by viewing drivers’ licences, taking five pound notes, and winking at the ladies. He caught Rex and Eddie out the corner of his eye.

  “Fellas!”

  Rex waved. “Hello Jim Jams.”

  Jim Jams beckoned them over. “What can I do you for? This place closes at midnight, but I’m headed to The Monte Carlo nightclub later if you’re interested?”

  “Nice,” Rex said.

  “We can’t today.”

  Jim Jams continued to shuffle IDs and fivers while talking to them.

  “Come on fellas, it’s Friday night, what’s the worst that could happen?”

  “We could be framed for arson, and chased by a corrupt policeman, who works for a notorious gangster that wants us dead,” Eddie said.

  Jim Jams considered Eddie’s words. “Granted, that’s a possibility, but beer is buy one get one free from midnight to one. How pucker is that?”

  “Jim Ja
ms,” Rex said. “Do you have a car?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Oh good, can you give us a lift?”

  “Yeah, no problem.”

  “Wait,” Eddie said. “What does ‘sort of’ means?”

  “It means I have access to a car. Or cars, plural.”

  Rex gave a nod. “Perfect.”

  Eddie folded his arms. “Explain.”

  “My mate Phil works at the impound. We take the cars out for a ride sometimes. I can give him a bell, see if we can borrow a car.”

  “A Morris Minor?” Eddie said.

  “That’s a bit specific, but I’ll ask. Sure you don’t have a better preference.”

  “Call your friend.”

  “OK, let’s do it.” Jim Jams walked away from the door, leaving the line of confused punters awaiting entry.

  Rex scratched his head. “What about your job?”

  “Oh, this ain’t a job. I’m a volunteer.”

  Eddie grimaced. “What does that mean?”

  “Show up early enough, and everyone thinks you work there. I ask for ID and charge a fiver.”

  “You mean you’re not collecting a cover charge?”

  “Well, it covers my services.”

  “And the pub knows about it?”

  “God no. Let’s get going shall we.” Jim Jams walked off with a quick confident step. Rex and Eddie checked back at the line of people all patiently waiting. The pair shrugged it off and caught up with Jim Jams.

  ***

  Thanks to Jim Jims, Rex and Eddie had the Morris Minor back and were headed towards Snodling. Jim Jams persuaded the pair to give him a ride to The Monte Carlo.

  Eddie pulled up the car. “Jim Jams, we’re here.”

  Rex looked back and saw Jim Jams asleep. “He’s taking a power nap.”

  “Wake him up.”

  “It’s not possible. The man is a walking chemistry experiment. You throw him off, and he’ll be out of balance for days, maybe weeks. Besides, he’s the heaviest sleeper I know.”

  “Fine, he’ll have to come with us to Stacey’s, and we’ll drop him off when we come back.”

  The Morris Minor navigated down the dark country lane. Tim’s gang had bashed in the headlights, so Jim Jams borrowed two torches from the impound and taped them to the car’s front. Although the lights helped, it was still hard with the lack of side mirrors and the fact that the passenger side windows had "wankers" sprayed over it.