DEAD SET: Detective Jack Creed Mysteries - The Complete Short Stories Collection: 7 Book Box Set (Detective Jack Creed Murder Mystery Books Series 9)

by C T Mitchell

“Just not a fan of the ethnic closed-shop stance, sir. We’ve got a murder to solve and they are not helping. Just gets up my nose.” Jack expressed his view without leaving any doubt of his true feelings.

  “Well get yourself another interpreter Jack. Lismore University is close by. There must be a Chinese-speaking interpreter there that can help. And try to be civil Jack. The area needs a boost of employment.” O’Halloran preached to Jack, dismissing him at the same time by returning to his desk and scouring his computer for an update of his emails.

  *****

  “This is Mei Li. She teaches Chinese at Lismore University,” Jo stated. Introducing the new interpreter to Jack, who passed a customary non-welcoming glance while grabbing the photos found in Mr. Tan’s flat from Jo’s hand; turned and headed to his car while summoning Ms. Lei to follow him. Sensing Jack’s coldness, she looked to Jo, shook her head, “Does this guy have any manners?” as she quickened her step to catch up to Jack. Mei Li could already sense that Jack did things his way, or no way. And being polite to people was not necessarily a trait Jack thought was essential in trying to solve a murder case.

  Arriving at Mr. & Mrs. Chan’s duplex, Jack grabbed the photos from the center console of the Mustang, slammed his door and quickly strode like a domineering lion up to the front door. Mei Li, looking a little windswept thanks to Jack having both the driver and passenger windows fully opened throughout his whirlwind drive from the station. She scrambled out of the car pulling her skirt down and rifling through her handbag looking for a pad, a pen and a business card displaying her credentials in Chinese; hopefully which would put the Chans at ease.

  Sitting down in the lounge room, Jack was also hoping for a breakthrough. Perhaps a fresh-faced Mei Li could deliver some much-needed information from the Chans about the photos Jack had in his hand.

  “Does this photo of a casino mean anything?” Jack had the interpreter ask.

  “No,” came back a quizzical looking Mr. Chan.

  “Did David Tan have any children?” pointing to the family photo in which a young woman is holding a baby. Once again he received a negative response, but established that the young woman with the baby is his sister.

  Jack had Mei Li go through the paces, asking the Chans more questions, painfully slow and not forthcoming of any real information outside the obligatory nod. Looking to Mei Li, Jack’s frustration was evident. “This is like pulling teeth. We’re done here for now” as he makes his way out of the flat back to his car. Mei Li is more courteous to the bewildered looking Chans as she says goodbye and joins Jack for the ride back to Kingscliff Police Station, winding her window up this time so as not to arrive windblown.

  “What do you make of all that?” Jack asked as he cruised through the main street of Cabarita Beach, eyes on the road ahead, while glancing around the town hoping to see a familiar face. Donny from the local IGA store, who was sweeping his footpath, got an expected two-finger salute from Jack and a wry smile. Donny laughed and continued sweeping, expecting nothing less from the infamous Jack Creed.

  ‘I don’t think they are telling us everything Mr. Creed,” Mei Li squeaked out in a somewhat intimidated voice thinking that Jack was looking for some sort of detailed synopsis of their visit. “I get the feeling their story may have been contrived.”

  “Hmm maybe a bit of coaching from their son Jackson?” Jack gave an inquisitive eye back to Mei Li. “I’ll drop you back to the station as I need to get to a Chamber of Commerce do at the Bowls Club. Maybe somebody there may be willing to talk more freely about our Mr. Tan and his employment with Robert Foong.”

  CHAPTER 5

  A few of the local business people had gathered at the Kingscliff Bowls Club for their monthly Chamber of Commerce meeting. Not the most formal venue but the picturesque beachfront gave it exceptional views of the ocean, a nice distraction to escape to if you got trapped with a boring guest. Jack was not part of the business community, but often a regular guest as the members liked to get an update on the crime rate in the area. Chief Super O’Halloran was also a regular trying to put a good spin-on for the local constabulary but tonight he was not in attendance, something that would please Jack no end.

  Jack knew the local Chapter President Simon Wagner quite well. Both were of similar age, Simon two years Jack’s senior. They attended Trinity Bay College together back in the '70s but that’s where their similarities ended. Jack left college and became a policeman working his way up to detective sergeant while Simon took a more traditional business approach and became an accountant.

  Jack got married and had children while Simon preferred to live the gay single life, something Jack suspected way back to their college days but never approached Simon personally about it. Homosexuality was a very taboo topic and one Jack steered well clear of. Jack, however, accepted Simon but not his lifestyle choice.

  “What do you know about the casino proposal in Cabarita Beach, Simon?” Jack quizzed while walking with Simon onto the verandah of the Bowls Club. Beer in one hand, and his eyes firmly fixated on the crashing waves onto the beach, wishing he was down there enjoying a surf.

  “You’d be best asking that gentleman with the nice shoulder-length grey hair, in the Armani jacket, leaning against the bar,” Simon pointed out. “Let me introduce you to Andrew Barrington-Smyth” as he tugged onto Jack’s suit, much to Jack’s annoyance, leading him towards the bar, quickstepping awkwardly. Jack bit his lip and followed suit thinking that Simon hadn’t changed a bit, while hoping the other guests didn’t think he and Simon were close.

  “I understand you know about the casino proposal that’s being planned in Cabarita Beach,” Jack pitches to Mr. Barrington-Smyth as he introduced himself, wishing that his other double-barreled friend Jo, was here in attendance; the two of them could have discussed at nauseating length how their family names came into being, but that was of no interest to Jack. He was more direct, just the facts.

  “I was consulted on the proposal, Detective. I’m a stockbroker with an office in London but lived most of my business life in Hong Kong and Macau. That’s where I met Robert Foong, the chap who’s putting this proposal together. I was there just recently, getting the prospectus together and doing some promotional work for the project including a video,” Andrew divulged looking over his Dolce & Gabbana rims while taking a breath to sip on a coffee-- obviously not a latte, judging by the look of disgust on his face.

  An attractive, well-groomed, stylish woman in her late 40s with shoulder-length auburn hair, approached the pair and introduced herself as Amanda Barrington-Smyth. She was pipping her husband in a playful manner for abandoning her with a boring solicitor on the other side of the room, while acknowledging the good-looking male company he was keeping with Detective Creed.

  Andrew excused himself, making a beeline to Simon. The two seemed to be old acquaintances; something not missed on Jack or Amanda who brushed his departure off as business. “Andrew is all about business, Detective. Always trying to do a deal as one would say,” in her sophisticated British accent, pleasant to an Aussies' ear.

  “I believe you run child care centers, Mrs. Barrington-Smyth,” as Jack offered her a coffee.

  “Amanda, please. We’re not at the Tanglin Club in Hong Kong now, Mr. Creed” Amanda smiled at Jack who was trying to put on his best worldly face so as not to show his ignorance about what and where the Tanglin Club was.

  “Yes, Andrew brokered a deal on a chain of child care centers some time back and I manage them. We are a great team,” Amanda said with some intrepidness while looking nervously over at Andrew and Simon who seemed to be very familiar with each other’s company. Jack picked up on Mrs. Barrington-Smyth’s apprehension and gave a smile; albeit not the most comforting.

  Jack tried to distract Mrs. Barrington-Smyth by asking her more about her child care centers, pretending to have some interest in the subject or at least be a good conversationalist. But on all fronts he was floundering. Amanda offered some insight into her business but her eye
s constantly wandered over to Andrew and his apparent liking of Simon’s company over hers.

  “I thought perhaps looking after your own children would be enough rather than looking after hundreds of other people’s children,” Jack enquired.

  “Oh no, Detective. I manage the businesses. I have people who actually physically look after the children daily. Besides, I don’t think I’d be much good at that. Andrew and I don’t have any children of our own.”

  Jack acknowledged surprise and excused himself to call it a night.

  *****

  Jo phoned as Jack headed home to advise that David Tan’s funeral was tomorrow.

  “Any news on whether his sister will be attending?” Jack asked.

  “Apparently her flight from Macau lands at Coolangatta Airport tomorrow morning just in time for the funeral at 11 a.m. I think we should attend to see who shows up, Jack.”

  “Good idea. See you in the morning” as Jack’s Mustang hit the rickety old wooden bridge on the southern road out of Kingscliff on route to the Seaview Motel; Jack’s home away from home.

  CHAPTER 6

  The funeral for David Tan was a small gathering, not unexpected considering his recent residency here in Cabarita Beach, and Australia for that matter. The usual attendees were there, including staff from the Happy Chopstix Restaurant, Jackson Chan, his parents, David’s sister and of course Robert Foong.

  Jack, Jo and Mei Li sat in Jo’s car on the edge of the cemetery watching the somber proceedings, sipping coffee and looking for anything unusual, including attendees. The service lasted just 30 minutes, short and sharp, and finished with some blessings by a local Buddhist priest.

  Jack made his way over to the gathering offering his condolences to David’s sister, Susan Lee, who seemed to appreciate his kind gesture. Jackson led his family away to the funeral cars which would take guests back to the restaurant for a private wake.

  “Any developments Detective?” Mr. Foong asked as the two gentlemen strolled towards his S Class Mercedes and awaiting driver, considerately parked under the shade of a large gum tree. Signaling to his driver to open the rear passenger door, Robert Foong invited Jack to ride with him back to town so they could talk a little more. “Let me drop you back at the station, Detective,” with a welcoming hand pointed to his car. Jack saw this as an opportunity to get to know Mr. Foong better, build a little trust and perhaps get ahead in the case. So far it’s been a closed shop in the Chinese community.

  “A quiet family affair today Mr. Foong,” Jack remarked as he looked across the backseat at his fellow passenger. “I would guess funerals in your homeland would be much larger with heaps of family attending.”

  “Can be, Detective. But with land so scarce in Macau for example, most now opt for a cremation service.”

  “Yes that’s something we have plenty of here--land. Australia is the land of opportunity as no doubt you are discovering, Mr. Foong.” Robert Foong acknowledged with a slight, short nod while exhibiting his best poker face. He might have offered Jack Creed a lift back to the station but they were not the best of pals, yet. Robert Foong kept a stonewalled persona, something that’s been inbred into his Chinese heritage, and a lesson passed on through the generations between father and son.

  But Jack wasn’t about to waste his 15-minute ride either. This was the best chance he had to unearth some details about Mr. Foong and possibly a lead in his murder investigation. Ancient Chinese traditions dating back to the Ming Dynasty were about to be tested by the tenacity of Jack Creed; a copper who always prevailed in seeing justice done.

  “I believe you did a video for your proposed casino in Cabarita Beach at the launch last year in Macau and Hong Kong.” Jack threw in, to let his backseat companion know he had done his research.

  “Impressive Mr. Creed. Yes I had a brief starring role, if you like, but the main man was Mr. Andrew Barrington-Smyth and of course that Aussie fellow, Eddie Doyle.” Jack sensed that Eddie Doyle was not a favorite of Robert Fooong.

  “Eddie Doyle is a gentleman, and I use that word loosely, who first proposed the idea to me in London a couple of years ago, then tracked me down again in Macau. He portrays the image that money is no object, but I think some of his practices are questionable. He owns the Cabarita Sails Caravan Park which is the site for our casino, if your government ever allows us to build it.”

  “Actually, perhaps you could get your driver to drop me off at Mr. Doyle’s office,” Jack requested, noticing he was just a few hundred meters away. “I need a few questions answered.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Jack stepped out of Robert Foong’s S Class giving it an admiring glance and thanking Mr. Foong for the ride and chat. The conversation was interesting but not overly revealing. Mr. Foong was still a little guarded but at least now Jack was a bit more familiar with who was who in the casino zoo. Eddie Doyle might cough up some more clues.

  Jack stood on the palazzo surveying the surround. The Salt condominiums was a luxury development. The five-star Peppers Resort was to his right and the Mantra Hotel appeared immediately in front of him, with specialty shops and a variety of family-based to fine dining restaurants occupying the ground floor. The second floor was home to some office space; a local solicitor, an accounting group and the man he came to see, of Doyle Unlimited Developments Pty Ltd. Jack immediately shortened the company name to DUD; his mind already conjuring up a poor image of Mr. Doyle.

  Entering the office through thick glass doors, Jack marveled at the opulence of the dark-blue marble floor tiles and crisp white reception desk. And the eye-catching, strategically placed, ancient Chinese Ming vase was set into the wall, highlighted by a portrait light above. Jack’s Versace loafers announced his arrival to the well-presented, 30-something Asian receptionist--Japanese--Jack presumed.

  Jack was shown to the boardroom, a more traditionally styled room with a commanding Chinese boardroom table in polished red-walnut timber with matching chairs, and Asian-embossed fabric cushion seating. Watercolor paintings of ancient Chinese emperors adorned the walls to distract your eyes away from the stunning ocean view, if that was at all possible.

  “So this is your Tweed Coast office, Mr. Doyle?” Jack commented with some doubt that such a building and its opulence could match the shady image painted by Eddie Doyle. Jack could spot a Lowes suit a mile away and it didn’t fit in here. Taste in quality including fashion was a natural born gift of Jack’s; something he believed couldn’t be learned. You either have it or you don’t, was Jack’s motto. Besides, he critiqued a lot of cheap suits at the station, especially worn by his mate Chief Super O’Halloran, when on civic duties.

  “No I rent it by the day,” Eddie replied in a smug but proud voice. “The punters love the opulence; it gives the right image to our potential investors Detective, if you know what I mean.”

  “Gives the illusion that you are doing well. A bit of smoke and mirrors, Mr. Doyle,” Jack quipped trying to hold back his disdain for charlatans like Eddie Doyle who was fast becoming a Fast Ed character in his mind.

  “No, not exactly Detective,” Eddie retorted quickly. “I’m putting together a large consortium of investors, many international clients from the UK, China, even a couple of local billionaires, to get this casino off the ground. You’d think the government would be bending over backwards, but they’re dragging the chain,” Eddie went on with a worried look on his face depicting a lot hinged on this deal coming off.

  “Foreigners taking Aussie land Mr. Doyle. Australian’s are not too keen on that.” Jack was quick to express the view; one he assumed Australians adopted, but more importantly one he shared.

  “But I’m not here to talk about casinos, Mr. Doyle. Where were you last Saturday evening? I’m investigating the murder of David Tan, a chef at the Happy Chopstix Restaurant in Cabarita Beach. I believe he once worked for you in another restaurant?”

  “Yes for a little while but unfortunately it ran into a little trouble, financially that is, and David went back to hi
s family restaurant in Macau. I closed the business and the receivers sold me up.” Eddie smarted, looking a little sheepish casting a look as if he had been hard done by. Jack’s mind said DUD, but he had to keep a professional face. He couldn’t afford another call going to O’Halloran so soon after his last complaint by Robert Foong.

  But Jack couldn’t resist a little dig. “Not the first time……a business failing…Mr. Doyle?”

  Eddie Doyle decided not to jump at the bait and gave Jack a look of you’ll keep mate as he asked his Japanese receptionist, Ichika, to bring his diary to the boardroom. “I was in a meeting with Mr. Charlton, a local businessman, most likely discussing the casino proposal,” showing Jack his diary.

  “Yes but that was at 4 p.m. You could have easily driven to Cabarita Beach and met up with Mr. Tan,” Jack prodded. “Are you telling me you haven’t caught up with David Tan since he was back in Australia?”

  “No, Detective Creed. My wife, or even Ichika can vouch for my whereabouts last Saturday evening. I got home at around 7:30 p.m.” Eddie replied with cool confidence, a trait he had called upon many times in his shady life.

  “What about at the launch in Macau? Did you not see him there?”

  “No, Detective. I spent most of my time in Hong Kong, mixing in much different circles. The Peak is the home of Hong Kong’s wealthiest and its business highfliers; that’s where I was.”

  “Perhaps you should read the story of Karura; a Japanese half bird, half man who flew too high, got burned and crashed to the ground,” Jack replied, keen to show off his knowledge of Japanese mythology.

  Jack turned to leave Eddie Doyle’s office, unable to resist one more comment of one-upmanship, “Don’t you drive through Repulse Bay to reach the Peak? Thank you for your time Mr. Doyle. No doubt we’ll catch up again.”

  Jack jumped into a taxi keen to get back to the station. He needed to chat with David Tan’s sister.