Terminus Part I: The Journey There (Draft)

Chapter 9: Motorcycle Mystery

"And who are these friends of yours?"

"You probably wouldn't know them."

"Try me. I know a lot of people, actually."

"There's my childhood friend, Milangelo, and some old guy named Crock."

"I haven't heard of many people named Milangelo or Crock," Hedges began. "Unless you're talking about Milangelo Douglas and Crock Turnbull. Though the latter is dead. And I would find it highly unlikely that a scrawny punk like you knows either of them. So, what do you say?"

"I grew up in Alimony Bay alongside Milangelo Douglas. Believe me or don't, it's the truth. I can't say if the old man is whoever you said, after all, he never talks of his past. But why do you need to know any of this?"

Hedges pulled out a gun from a holster on his belt and pointed it at Cameron's head. "Now you listen here, brat. You come running around these parts just minutes after one of my crew's motorcycles- the pride and joy of our gang- goes missing, and I have to take every measure I can to understand why. If you're not a part of this, then you have nothing to fear."

"Well, I've been popular today, haven't I?" said Cameron.

"What the hell, kid? Do you think this is some kind of joke?"

"If it is, it's not very funny. But you look serious enough. Too serious, in fact. Calm down. I understand if you're mad about your missing motorcycle, or whatever has gone wrong. But this isn't the first time someone has held me against my will, and it's kind of getting repetitive. So, if you don't mind, put the gun down, untie me, and let me answer any questions you may have of my own free will."

Hedges looked Cameron up and down, and thought to himself Who the fuck is this kid? He then began to laugh uproariously before saying "Sure, kid. Come inside."

On the way to the hotel, James, Milangelo, and Crock passed the restaurant known as Meals Eternal. The broken window immediately caught James' eye. Being a detective, he was no stranger to crime scenes, and this was most likely one.

"Should we check things out?" he asked his crewmates.

"You're a detective, right? Then you go right ahead. Milangelo and I will wait outside for you," said Crock heartily.

James went inside to find a chef lying on the floor, mouth agape, and three dead bodies. He may not have recognised the chef, but he recognised the dead. The two people who came in shortly before he had left appeared to be now lying lifeless, their faces crushed under a misshapen motorcycle. The waiter who had engaged with them was dead, too. It was a gunshot to the head. There were clear bootprints leading out of the back door. Everything about the method of the crime was clear. What was not clear to James from this information, however, was motive. Who would crush two people with a motorcycle, shoot a third, and then run off? He would need to think on this and return tomorrow.

"Ah, but first things first," he said to himself aloud. "Sir," he tried to get the chef, who seemed to be in shock but still alive, to respond. "Are you okay? I'm a detective. I was walking by when I saw the window. I'm going to come back tomorrow, and assuming local authorities aren't already on it, I will investigate this case myself."

The chef nodded sadly, and then attempted to close his lips. He got up and blinked at James. "I'm going to get a drink of water, and then take your word for it. If and only if you get out of this restaurant right now."

"Understood," said James. He wondered if the chef knew that he had been there just moments before it happened. He also wondered if that would affect his credibility. Then he recalled that he was a pirate, and that would affect his credibility.