“We'll see what we can do. Depends on what you can tell us,” Responded Andy.
The man nodded, placing his palms on the table. They were trembling visibly – just the state that Mike and Andy hoped that he would be in for the sake of sourcing information from him.
“Well,” Nodded Mike, “What are you waiting for?”
He sighed before continuing. “They told me they would kill me if I told anybody. You better be damn sure about this. There were men. Two of them. They had a big pack of dogs trained in crowd control.”
“Yeah, yeah, we already know that,” Muttered Mike impatiently, aware that the clock was winding down evermore as they spoke, “Were they there yesterday?”
“Yes. They had a bust up with Steven, they said that their plan didn't work and that they wanted a refund. Something like that, anyway.”
“Do you know who these... Men are?”
“No, not really. I only know that they were trying to find something that they said they had lost. I don't socialise much, I'm just there to trim the bushes and pull the weeds.”
Andy glanced towards Mike. Without a doubt, something interesting was afloat – If something had gone wrong, that would quite likely mean that they hadn't found the broach that they had been searching for. Beating the trainer for a refund could only show one thing; Desperation. Which would also mean that the broach was still out there somewhere, and not far behind it would be the criminals. If they could find the broach, then they would more than likely find the men, too.
There was one place that Mike and Andy had not yet turned inside out; the ladies' flat. At the time, they had not linked the two crimes, and were too enraged to carry out a full search anyway. What if they had hidden it somewhere? Almost instantly after they had the same telepathic line of thinking, they dashed towards the door, swinging their jackets over their backs. It was all very well working with the agents, but this collar was theirs and they wanted to get out of the office before anybody could ride along with them.
“Where's my protection!?” Called a desperate voice down the hallway as they left the man cuffed to the table, “Where's my god-damn witness protection!?”
The detectives were now racing against the Prussian princess's descendants in a bid to find the jewellery, and Andy's eagerness was displayed in his cross-town sprint behind the wheel of a squad car, poor Mike clinging on for dear life as the vehicle darted in and out of pockets of empty road with its sirens blaring. Eventually pulling off an impressive handbrake park in the parking area outside the apartments, the detectives rose from the interior of the car, albeit the younger of the two looking almost petrified, even taking a few moments to let his breakfast sink back down into his intestines before he could even think about scaling the stairs within the walls of the building.
Andy, on the other hand, was all too eager to get into the apartment to wait around for his fellow detective and clambered to the top of the stairwell, practically acting as a battering ram as he collided with the apartment's door, rattling its steel hinges so hard that the door gave way. His eyes scanned the room with great perception.
“Think, Andy, Think!” He muttered under his breath as he set about finding the broach, “Where would you put it?”
He dropped to the floor, searching the nooks and crannies beneath the furniture, even going as far as checking for secret compartments before his partner had plucked up the ability to make his way to the apartment, though he did still appear rather frail.
“It's just... I don't think it's here, it can't be. I've turned the place inside out,” Explained Andy, “It's fairly open in here. I don't see where else they could have hidden it.”
Mike peered around the room. Everything was in order, or at least, as much as it had been on their previous trip to the building, with the obvious exception of the missing corpses. The other men obviously hadn't come back here yet, but if they were at the training compound yesterday, this would more than likely be their next stop.
“All right,” Nodded Mike, “Okay, there's got to be something else. If it's not here, there's got to be paperwork for a self storage block somewhere. Let's check it out.”
Pulling out each drawer in the apartment, every scrap of paper or envelope was emptied into a heap, with the partners drawing out letters one by one, leading a scavenger hunt to find any clue where they may find the broach. Most the letters were hand written, and as such were discarded by the two detectives. After-all, what kind of storage company this day and age still hand writes letters to their clients? After finishing with his half of the pile, Andy huffed. He had drawn a blank. And it appeared that his partner had, too.
Andy shook his head. He had to have missed something. Once again, he filtered through the scraps, in search of anything that stood out about the envelopes.
After what seemed like an eternity of searching, he finally found it. The envelopes which belonged to one of the letters had a rather interesting appearance, with a wax stamp attached to the creases, which had obviously once kept it closed. The envelope itself was not made of the regular paper, but rather appeared to be formed of some kind of parchment. Andy dipped his finger into the envelope and pulled out a handwritten letter. Mike peered over his partner's shoulder as Andy began to read aloud.
“I take it with utmost thankfulness that you have taken the time to research the origins of the jewellery that you were presented with during the war and decided to return them to their rightful blood-lines,” Read Andy, before skipping a few lines, “I believe my father had this crafted for a young lady back in the day, and he had search for the piece for years following her untimely death. I have heard that some unsavoury types have been searching for this, so I am honoured to have it within the family once again.”
Andy beamed. “So, there we have it! The silly bastards never even got the broach and our ladies had tried to put things right in their old age. The next step is to... well, wait for our suspects. I presume they'll be making their way back here soon, too.”
“Well,” chuckled Mike peering towards the kitchen, “We may as well get the kettle warm for them!”
With not a lot else to go on other than the probability of the murderers visiting the apartment, Andy vanished downstairs for a few minutes so that he could go and park the borrowed squad car elsewhere – it would be an instant deal-breaker should the criminals see it. Mike, meanwhile, helped himself to a teabag from the kitchen cupboards and set about making a brew. As it turned out, he didn't have all that much time to enjoy his cup of tea as their suspects weren't too far behind them in planning to raid the apartment for clues.
Peering from the window, he noticed a small hatchback carrying a group of three men, two of whom he had identified as the Prussian brothers, whilst the other must have been a tag-along mercenary of some description. With Andy emerging from a nearby alleyway, a chase ensued as Mike's veins began to fill with mercury adrenaline. He threw himself down the stairwell with some velocity, thankful that he had worn his bulletproof vest beneath his standard attire, though he cursed the fact that he had only loaded the steel barrels of his gun with the rubber bullets that the armoury had provided him. Still, they'd probably provide quite the punch, so he moved on, hugging the shadows as he tried to draw Andy's attention without alerting the killers. He succeeded, with Andy nodding to confirm that he had seen the car, and Mike held his fingers in the air to signal a countdown.
Mike sprung from his position like a bullet, hurtling through the air as he approached the vehicle. The two brothers were more alert than the third individual, who appeared a little inexperienced, and fled the car and headed east through an alleyway. Andy waisted no effort in hunting them down, and strode towards them efficiently whilst Mike cuffed the third man to the steering wheel of the car, being sure to manhandle him in the process – there were no sick individuals he hated more than those who disrupted the peaceful lives of the elderly – and then engaged in the pursuit.
At the mouth of the alley, Mike spotted that Andy
had his knee locked onto the neck of one of the brothers, who was now face down on the concrete paving, though the second brother was headed for the horizon. Mike, somewhat of a sharp-shooter, drew the pistol from his utility belt and aimed for the suspect's ankle, his index finger nursing the trigger patiently before the rubber pellet crashed out of the chamber with an echoing thud. Whilst it was a non-fatal round, it was enough to give the man a nasty nick in the lower shin, giving Mike the ability to catch up with him as he staggered into another row of buildings. From there, it was a short-lived pursuit as Mike tackled the man heavily, putting him in chains before marching him back towards the car.
It was a good day all round as they herded up their suspects, marching them into the precinct to a cheer from their colleagues. Even the agents gave them a pat on the back as they loitered around the lobby, waiting to bombard a passing intern with their paperwork in what had become a post case ritual, opening up the time for them to have a drink at a nearby bar. They eventually managed to dump their burdens upon a fresh face blonde girl before they jogged away to their retreat on the street's corner.
“Another job well done,” Cheered Mike, tapping his glass against Andy's before letting the tingling golden nectar within his glass to coat his throat with a comforting warmth. Though they weren't the only ones in that pub that evening – Amongst the bustle of the popular bar was a familiar face, and after peering around, Mike spotted the agent, Timothy, enjoying a cold beer of his own, and raised a glass with a smile. The pair of detectives usually resented working with his kind, but Timothy made a rare exception, even though they hoped never to work with the secret service as long as their careers lasted.
Review
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About the Author
Michael Sivyer
Michael was born and raised in Kent, England. Since early retirement he has taken up his passion for writing short Crime Mysteries. His books are a mixture of emotion, suspense, and action with plenty of unexpected twists and turns. His approach and desire when writing is to keep the readers engaged within the story.
The other 2 books in the current series are also available on Kindle EBooks and Paper Back
Book 2 Murder Backstage
Book 3 Fatal Reunion
Death by Torture: Gripping Detective Murder Mystery (Detectives Ruskin & Ashley Book 3) Page 5
