Six Pack of Sleuths: Comedy Mysteries

by Barbara Silkstone

  He reached the podium, clutching onto it for support. It looked like his legs were about to give way any second. And his eyelids were well and truly droopy now. He opened his mouth to speak and his lids finally succumbed to heaviness and closed.

  More gasps.

  His eyelids fluttered open again, and he tried to smile at the crowd, but it looked more like he had a severe case of wind.

  Then he seemed to summon up the last of his willpower and spoke.

  ‘Tha…kyou for…coming to the grand…openang of the new Plaza hotel.’

  ‘He’s slurring. He must be about to conk out any minute,’ Charlie said.

  Someone behind us muttered, ‘Is he drunk?’

  ‘I hope…ooo…enjoy the ‘otel and facilities…as much as I enjoyed…’ Ibrahim suddenly shook his head to himself, loosening his tie. ‘I apologize…I seem to be feeling a…ittle light headed. Must be all the ex…citement.’ His hands clutched the podium harder. He took a deep breath, forced his eyes wide open and carried on. ‘As much as I…joyed building it. The Plaaaaza is my twenty-first ho…tel and is…’ He paused, as if trying to kick-start his brain into gear.

  ‘I can’t look.’ Charlie pressed his hands over his face.

  ‘This is awful,’ I managed through dry lips.

  ‘Wah was I saying?’ Ibrahim tried to straighten his shoulders, but they slumped. He narrowed his eyes at the crowd. He looked like he was trying to bring them in focus. ‘Hotel is econd to…none. In min…Jayde will peeform.’ Kaya lost his balance and toppled sideways slightly.

  Louder gasps.

  He quickly recovered, grabbing onto the podium for support. ‘Now…now…’ His eyelids drooped again. Then he seemed to get a second wind and looked up towards the crowd. ‘Now…’ ‘Now…momant is you that been waiting for,’ he slurred. ‘Queen Cleo…’

  And that’s when several things happened at once in some kind of freaky slow motion.

  Ibrahim Kaya waved a hand towards the display cabinet, his eyes sunk back into his skull, finally succumbing to sleep, and he toppled sideways.

  A shot rang out from one of the hotel bedrooms.

  The bullet hit Kaya and he fell to the floor, blood rapidly seeping through his chest and shoulder area and onto his pink shirt.

  People screamed, eyes wide, mouths frozen open in horror.

  The guards dived towards Kaya.

  Wide-scale panic broke out. The crowd ran in all directions, yelling and shouting.

  The display case slid down.

  Kalem sprinted towards it.

  Missing Link appeared at the display case, his hands grabbing the statue.

  Charlie passed out and hit the deck.

  A few people in the crowd fell, trying to get away. Others scrambled on top of them towards the steps to the pool area and safety beyond.

  I clawed my way through the sea of people up the steps. I had to try and find Ferret Face somehow and follow him.

  More screams.

  My flip-flops fell off as I scrambled through the hysteric crowd. My feet slipped on the wet surface of spilled drinks.

  I made it out to the car park, frantically trying to get a view through the mass of panicked guests who were crying and screaming.

  Someone yanked my arm from behind, jerking me back roughly.

  ‘Agh!’ I swung around.

  Erol Hussein clutched my arm in a vice-like grip and shouted, ‘Arrest this woman!’

  A policeman appeared at his side and wrestled me, kicking and screaming, into a police car.

  Chapter 17

  Police Station, take two.

  Here I was again. Same communal holding cell; same halternecked hooker; minus crazy old woman.

  I lay on the uncomfortable metal bench flanking the back wall of the cell, knees bent, hands over my face, wishing for a magic carpet to whisk me away to my previous life before we moved here. The bench dug into my spine, but at least the pain meant that I was still alive, and I hadn’t been shot by Ferret Face. The bad thing was that I was facing the possibility of a life in prison, probably minus a few chopped-off body parts. I’d never have my perfect wedding in my perfect wedding dress with my nan’s lucky charm. I’d never get married at all, in fact. I’d be left to rot in some stinky cell and turn into the crazy woman, saying “blah” every five minutes.

  And where was Kalem? The last I’d seen was him running towards the statue that Missing Link had already grabbed hold of. And then what? What was happening in the chaos out there? Was Kalem alive? Injured? Did he manage to save the statue? What had happened to Ibrahim Kaya? Was he dead? The bullet looked like it had hit him in the heart. No one could survive that, surely. Had Ferret Face escaped? Maybe Charlie hadn’t fainted. Maybe he’d been shot, too, by a stray bullet.

  My lips trembled, and I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. They dripped down my cheeks from behind my hands, soaking my neck and arms.

  ‘You been hooking again?’ Halterneck Hooker said to me.

  ‘Go away!’ I yelled.

  ‘Ooh, only asking. No need to get so touchy. What you in here for again, then?’ She pulled a packet of tissues from her pocket and handed them to me.

  I swung my legs down and sat up, wiping clumsily at my eyes. I took the tissues and yanked one out. ‘I was at the Plaza. Someone shot the owner.’

  She whistled. ‘Oh, so that’s what happened tonight. I saw lots of policemen running out of here about an hour ago. They said some psychopathic woman had carried out her threats to kill the owner.’

  I think my hair actually stood on end at that point. ‘What?’ Blood pumped to my head in a fuzzy rush. They couldn’t be…no. They couldn’t have meant me.

  ‘That’s what they said. Apparently, she’s a real danger to society.’ She nodded at me and her gigantic beaded earrings jangled. ‘Good job we’re in here.’ She elbowed me. ‘Although, it’s funny you mention the Plaza. I’ve been servicing a guy this week who’s been staying there too. Seen him every night–’

  ‘Yes, but what else did they say about the shooting?’ My breaths came in short gasps. Maybe I was hyperventilating. ‘Have you got a paper bag?’

  She chuckled. ‘Where?’ She held out her arms, indicating she didn’t have anything but the clothes she was wearing. And they were pretty few and far between. ‘Hidden in my knickers?’ She rubbed my back. ‘Take a few deep breaths. That’s it.’

  ‘So, what else did they say? Quick! Tell me!’ I said, trying urgently to steer her back to the subject, instead of talking about her client, who I couldn’t care less about.

  ‘Oh, something about some woman who shot Ibrahim Kaya, and then her boyfriend stole his statue. Something like that.’

  Oh, my God. I uncrumpled the tissue that I’d been squeezing in my hand, wiped my eyes, and gave her my full attention.

  She stood up and stretched. ‘I need to get out of here. I was hoping my Plaza guy might hook up with me again tonight. He’s a big spender, you know. Got lots of money. I think those Israelis have, though.’ She gave me a knowing look. ‘Brings his own drink with him, as well, whenever I see him. He likes some weird, expensive cognac shit.’

  ‘Yes, but did they say if Ibrahim was alive? What happened to the statue? And what about…’ I trailed off, my brain suddenly registering what she’d just said. ‘Huh?’ I frowned at her.

  ‘What, honey?’ She gave me a puzzled look.

  ‘Say that again. What did you just say about your Plaza guy who drinks expensive cognac?’ I stopped breathing, waiting for her to answer. Was she…could she be talking about Ferret Face? I gripped her arm, my wide eyes staring into hers. Of course! She had to be talking about him. Didn’t Ibrahim Kaya say that Jacob Podsheister was Israeli? The name sounded Israeli. And what about the yacht in the harbour? That was called The Israelite and it was owned by a Mr P. That must be the connection between him and Ferret Face. Maybe they knew each other from Israel. And Ferret Face drank Courvoisier. It had to be him that she was talking about. A fiery heat of
anticipation and excitement swept over me. Maybe she had some information that could help the police find him. ‘What does he look like?’

  She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. ‘Why, are you trying to steal my customers?’

  ‘I’m not a hooker!’

  ‘Yes, OK. And I’m the Queen of England!’

  ‘What does he look like?’ I said, more urgently this time.

  She shrugged. ‘He’s got blondish-brown hair and beard, piggy brown eyes, skinny. He looks a bit like an animal.’

  ‘Like a ferret?’ I sat upright, waiting for her answer.

  She tilted her head, lips puckered, deep in thought. ‘Yeah. A lot like a ferret, now you come to mention it.’

  It had to be him. ‘How did you meet him? How long have you known him for?’

  ‘I haven’t known him long. He said he was trying to pick up a hooker at his hotel, but she preferred women customers.’ She shrugged. ‘Still, that’s her loss. He gave me a huge tip.’ She grinned at me.

  ‘Do you know what his plans were? Was he going back to Israel or into South Cyprus? Was he going to contact you tonight?’

  She gave me a leisurely shrug. ‘I don’t know, honey. It’s not like I wanted to marry him or anything.’ She let out a throaty chuckle. ‘My job isn’t to ask questions. I just show them a good time.’

  A policeman arrived in front of the bars and pointed to Halterneck Hooker. ‘You’re out of here.’

  She stood up. ‘Well, it’s been real nice chatting to you.’ She strutted towards the door. ‘Watch out for that crazy woman.’

  I shot off the bench. ‘No!’ I grabbed hold of her arm. ‘Wait! Don’t go! I need to know more about the guy.’

  The policeman glared at Halterneck Hooker. ‘Lena, out now, otherwise I’ll keep you in here all night. And don’t let me see you again this week.’

  Lena pulled her arm away. ‘Sorry, gotta go.’ She left me standing there, staring through the bars in disbelief.

  I banged my fist on the metal bars. No, no, no! Ouch that hurt. I rubbed my hand.

  Maybe Ferret Face was going to see Lena now. Or maybe he was hiding out somewhere else. Or maybe he’d already left on the same boat that Missing Link had stashed at the hotel’s port.

  ‘I want my phone call!’ I yelled down the now empty corridor.

  I didn’t know if I was actually allowed one, but I’d seen it hundreds of times in films. They always got to make one call, didn’t they? Or did they? Oh, my brain wouldn’t work. Maybe I’d dreamed it. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking.

  I rattled the bars. ‘I want my phone call!’

  Captain Beaky from the other night appeared in the corridor to see what all the racket was about. ‘Oh, it’s you again. Hang on a minute.’

  Uh-oh.

  He disappeared from view.

  Great. He was just going to ignore me! I carried on staring up the corridor, ready to keep yelling if he didn’t return. I didn’t care. I’d yell all bloody night if I had to. They’d soon get fed up with me then and give me a phone call.

  Captain Beaky reappeared with a pair of flip-flops in his hand. He leaned in towards the bars. ‘Look, thanks for the other night. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t know for sure about my wife.’ He unlocked the doors with an echoing click. ‘Put these on.’ He handed me the flip-flops.

  I stared down at my now dirty-black feet. In all the commotion, I’d completely forgotten that my flip-flops had fallen off. I slipped them on.

  ‘I’ll take you to the phone.’ He escorted me down the corridor and around the corner to the phone, standing guard so I didn’t make a run for it.

  ‘Oh, thank you. Thank you! It wasn’t me. I didn’t kill anyone.’ My eyes pleaded with him.

  ‘Just make your call.’

  I stared at the phone and my mind suddenly went blank. I was stuck in a foreign prison, not knowing what the hell was going on out there. Clueless as to what had happened to Kalem and whether he was alive or injured. Who should I call? The A-Team? Batman? That guy who escaped from Alcatraz for some jail-breaking tips? Did I need an international dialling code to get through to them?

  I picked up the receiver and jabbed at the digits, dialling Ayshe’s mobile number.

  Please pick up. Pleeeeeeeease.

  ‘Hello?’ Ayshe’s soft voice answered.

  ‘Ayshe! It’s me. Is Kalem with you?’

  ‘Helen! Thank God. What happened? Kalem hasn’t come back to the hotel. Neither has Charlie. Where are you?’

  ‘At the police station,’ my voice cracked. ‘You’ve got to do something.’

  ‘I heard on the news that Ibrahim Kaya was shot. They said someone got away with the statue, but the details coming in are a bit sketchy. Some people are saying that he’s been killed.’

  ‘Ferret Face shot him,’ I wailed. ‘And I don’t know what happened to Kalem.’

  ‘I’ll be right down there. I’ll round up Mum and Dad. They’ve made a complete recovery. They were asking where you all were.’

  ‘Please get down here as soon as you can.’ I sniffed back the tears.

  ‘We’re on our way. Don’t panic.’

  Don’t panic? I didn’t think that was likely given the circumstances.

  I hung up and felt a presence behind me that made goosebumps spring to attention on my skin.

  ‘You can take her back to the cell now and let her stew. I’ll be back to talk to her in the morning,’ Erol Hussein said.

  PANIC!

  Chapter 18

  I stewed all right.

  It was like being stranded in the desert for days on end with no water. My brain started thinking bizarre random things with no rational explanation. Maybe it was the stress, or the shock, or the lack of sleep. Or maybe I did actually fall asleep at some point during the early hours on the uncomfortable metal bench, and I’d really been dreaming. One minute I was thinking – or dreaming – about barbequing Smoky. Charlie wanted him well done, and I wanted him medium rare. We had a big fight over what condiments to serve with him, and Smoky turned into a ferret. Then I was flying through the air in my wedding dress – think I was actually a ghost – but I was a hundred years old and the only word I could say was nuts. After that, Kalem appeared, but he was covered in seaweed and had webbed hands and feet like the Man from Atlantis. He carried the Queen Cleopatra sculpture in one of his webby little hands and a packet of custard creams in the other.

  What did it all mean?

  ‘Breakfast!’ the younger policeman from the other night shoved a tray under the cell door, waking me out of my trance-like state.

  My first thought was where the hell were Ayshe and everyone else? She’d said last night that she was going to bring them all down here to help me. So where were they all? Surely they couldn’t have just abandoned me and left me to rot in here. But then the police thought I was a murderer, didn’t they? That’s what Lena had overheard them say. Maybe they didn’t allow suspected murderers to have visitors. Oh, my God. What was I going to do?

  My eyes flitted around the cell like a mad woman, searching for some sort of possible escape route, but I couldn’t see anything that would help me. I eyed the traditional Turkish breakfast on the floor with a depressed lack of interest. Olives, hellim cheese, cucumber, tomatoes, bread, and carob syrup. My stomach yelled at me in hunger, but I couldn’t face the thought of food.

  I stood up and stretched, kneading the knots in my shoulder. It was a good job Kalem had taught me Yoga. At least I could do that in a cramped cell. I might end up a hundred year old nutcase inside prison, but at least I’d be a supple one.

  I grabbed a bottle of water from the tray and glugged it down. I stopped mid-glug as I saw Erol Hussein coming down the corridor towards the cell doors.

  ‘Not hungry?’ He eyed the untouched breakfast. ‘You should eat. Keep up your strength. You’ll need it where you’re going. I gave you the chance to leave and look what happened.’

  I opened my mouth to speak, then looked past him at
a commotion further down the corridor.

  The family cavalry had arrived. Yasmin, Deniz, Ayshe, Atila, Osman, and Charlie stormed down the corridor towards us, all led by another policeman who had a fancy looking circle on his epaulettes. I didn’t know who the hell he was, but by the way he acted, I suspected he was pretty high-up. Erol seemed to recognize him, though, judging by how his jaw plummeted open.

  ‘Dad!’ Erol said to the policeman. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘I want to know what the hell has been going on,’ Erol’s dad spat, all red in the face.

  ‘I can explain!’ I yelled.

  Erol’s dad frowned at me, then turned his attention to Erol. ‘I’ve been hearing some very disturbing things.’ He unlocked the door to the cell. ‘You can come with us, Helen.’

  Deniz patted my shoulder. ‘We tried to see you last night and get this all sorted out, Helen, but I’m sure you know that there were certain obstacles in the way.’ He glared at Erol.

  ‘I’m just glad you’re all here,’ I managed to squeak as we all traipsed into a big office on the top floor of the station.

  ‘Did you want Turkish coffee?’ Erol’s dad asked me.

  ‘No, thanks.’ Not after last time.

  Erol’s dad ordered chairs to be brought for everyone, and we all sat.

  I looked at Deniz and gave him a questioning look. He put a finger to his lips and gave me a reassuring smile. Yasmin looked like she hadn’t slept. Her curly grey-black hair was spiralling in all directions, and her eyes were red. Ayshe fidgeted with her wedding ring. Attila looked the same as he did on the nerve-wracking opening night of his restaurant. Osman waited patiently for something to happen. Charlie rubbed at a bruise over his right eye. And Erol looked worried.

  ‘What’s going on?’ I looked from one to the other. ‘Where’s Kalem? Is he OK? Oh, my God. He’s dead, isn’t he? That’s why he’s not with you. Nooooooooooo. Tomorrow was supposed to be our wedding day! And I’m never going to see him again.’