He added an extra spoon of sugar to the black coffee then casually tossed the spoon onto the stained surface while taking a sip of the hot liquid, grimacing at the harsh, bitter taste. He placed the cup onto his desk before lowering himself wearily onto the office chair. The room was dark, except for the dim glow of the computer screen and the intermittent flash of headlights from the street below. It had been a long day for Leon Miles
Being self-employed meant staying behind to write up his reports, he should get round to advertising for an assistant. Granted, Leon was more than capable of doing his own research and reports but even he had to admit that a little help would make life easier, well, his work easier, maybe not his life.
Leon was incredibly intuitive, making him good at his job. His co-workers had admired his perceptive ability, aptitude and attention to detail. His determination and lack of fear, although commendable, had been his downfall, as a Detective he had begun to feel restricted, held back, by his partners obsession of ‘playing it safe’, to the point of not pursuing a case on a hunch, something at which Leon excelled. And so, eleven months ago, he had taken the decision to set up on his own as a Private Investigator, hoping and assuming that the force would have his back if necessary… how wrong could he have been!
So, the day was done and Leon sat in the office chair, gazing at the hastily scrawled words in his notepad. He took a gulp of coffee and set it beside the keyboard, before putting his hands to work adeptly typing his report.
The office was quiet, apart from the clicking of his computer keys. Leon savoured this part of the day, no noise, no distractions, he could concentrate on the job in hand and finish up before heading home, and he began to hum a quiet little tune to himself as the words came to life on the screen.
He paused for a moment as a familiar glow caught his attention. Leon glanced at the cell phone lying on the desk. Its screen was flashing a luminous blue.
Leon switched glances between the cell phone and the computer screen before releasing a deep sigh. His concentration broken he picked up the phone and saw the name Trish on the screen. Rolling his eyes in disapproval, he accepted the call.
"What?" his voice was monotone.
"Lee, listen, I don't have much time so I can't get into details..." Trish sounded scared.
The fear in her voice made Leon uneasy and he waited for her to continue.
"In the cabinet in my home, there is a key and a letter. You must get to it before they find it."
"They?" he asked.
"Listen, you have to get that key before they do!" she insisted, pleaded.
Leon leaned forward in his seat, his senses heightened, his instinct kicking in. "Who are they? Trish? Where are you?"
There was no reply and the line went dead, Leon stood up sending his chair crashing into the wall. "Trish?”
The white Mercedes screeched to a halt outside the apartment building, Leon’s car was his pride and joy, his only indulgence since the divorce, Trish got to keep everything, he had wanted it that way, a feeble attempt to ease his guilt over the affair. He now lavished his spare time and money on his car; it was six years old so not too flash but not exactly a banger either. The fact that he had almost hit several parked cars and a lamp-post on the way over here did not even register, in his haste he had driven almost recklessly and quite probably illegally. He turned off the engine and looked up at the unlit building, hoping for a glimpse of Trish’s face at the third floor window.
As Leon turned the key in the lock he glanced up and down the tree-lined street, it was eerily quiet, a streetlight flickered several yards away casting shadows on the cars which were neatly parked nose to tail, bumper to bumper. He opened the huge oak door and entered the building.
Climbing the stairs two at a time he could feel the sense of urgency rising inside him, as he reached the third floor he stopped, his hand gripping the stair-rail, from here he could see the door to Trish’s apartment halfway down the corridor, it was open.
Leon instinctively took his gun from its holster, removed the safety and held it close to his thigh, his finger on the trigger. He slowly approached the open door, his back to the wall as he did so. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to slow his heart-rate. He listened, there was silence. Cautiously he peered round the door, ready to pull back at any sign of movement. Satisfied that the room was empty he entered. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he could make out the desk by the window, he reached across to turn on the desk lamp, his arm touched the mouse and the computer-screen came to life, casting a blue glow into the room. He could see the oak cabinet in the corner, this must be the one that Trish meant, it was a family heirloom and had been top of the list of things she wanted to keep from the divorce.
Outside two cars-doors slammed, Leon had not heard the car approach. He peered out the window, careful to not be seen. In the street below he could make out two figures walking towards the front door. Quickly he opened the cabinet, snatched up the small silver key and an envelope it was placed on, he shoved them into his inside pocket and stepped back beside the computer. On the screen were search results for warehouse storage, several links were shown and he had no way of knowing which one was relevant or why, he tried to make a mental note of the first three before closing the window and switching off the screen. No time for anything else, nowhere to run, or hide. As the hushed voices approached the apartment door Leon knew he was cornered.
The two detectives entered the room, and seeing the figure standing before them they raised their weapons…
“Hold it guys, I’m not armed!” Leon lied, he rarely left his apartment without his 45. He raised his arms in submission.
“Miles? I might have known!” Detective Sawyer holstered his weapon, his partner followed suit then turned on the light.
“What you doing here Miles?”
“I could ask the same of you Sawyer.” Leon remarked defensively, then conceded “I got a call from Trish, she sounded scared, so I came over, that’s all I know, how about you guys?”
After a pause Sawyer looked at his partner then back at Leon, “We’re following a lead, that’s all I can say for now.”
Leon knew he would get nothing from these two, Sawyer still held a grudge towards him for leaving the force and going out on his own, leaving him to find a new partner. Almost a year and they still hardly speak on the rare occasion they see each other. Leon headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” Sawyer grabbed Leon’s arm.
“To find Trish, now take your hand off me or lose your fingers!” Leon snarled through gritted teeth.
Sawyer let go of his arm, he knew not to mess with Leon even though he had legal authority over him, Leon set his own rules, always had.
“Give me the key Miles, I know that’s what you came for.”
Leon didn’t have time to argue, he had to find Trish. He reached into his pocket and took out a small key, he handed it to Sawyer, “What’s it for?” he asked.
“Can’t say, on-going inquiry, you know the drill.”
Just the answer I expected, thought Leon, he walked purposefully to the door.
As he walked towards the stairs a voice called after him, “You’ll let us know if you find her?” it was more a command than a question.
Leon kept on walking, “Like hell I will!” he muttered, only to himself.
He climbed into his car and started the engine, “Where the hell do I start? Trish, what have you gotten involved in?” he had neither answer. As if on auto-pilot he headed home, he was going to need help with this one, and it was only a matter of time before Sawyer and his ‘silent’ partner realised that he had given them his garage key, not the one he took from Trish’s place. A smile spread briefly across his face.
