Catchee Monkey: A Rex & Eddie Mystery (Rex & Eddie Mysteries Book 1) (2 page)

Rex leapt over Eddie and jumped on a rolling skateboard. His right foot propelled him towards the teen. Rex gained on the little thief and reached out his hand. He was inches away from grabbing his target’s hood. Eddie thought it was most impressive until the teen made a sharp turn and escaped.

Too fast to turn, Rex glided straight towards an open lift. The occupants jumped out of his way as Rex whacked into the elevator’s back wall. He turned around confused as the lift doors closed on him. Rex was gone.

Eddie jumped to his feet and ran. The thief bashed through a fire exit and darted up a stairwell. Eddie cramped up on the stairs, he was out of breath and ready to puke. The teen had already made it up one flight.

“If you surrender
—
” Eddie’s voice came out a little too high-pitch so he cleared his throat, which made him dry heave. “If you surrender now, we’ll go lightly on you.” Silence. The teen stopped. Eddie stood tall and proud. He leant forward over the bannister to check for the teen’s reaction. A crystal ball flew down and hit Eddie on the head.
 

“Ouch!” Eddie said. He stomped around in a circle as if it had some sort of beneficial purpose.

A crystal ball?
he thought.
The little git must have stolen it from the mystic shop.

Eddie didn’t believe in that mystical stuff but somehow the crystal ball’s energy empowered him, or maybe the adrenaline kicked in.

Stolen objects continued to rain down as Eddie navigated up the stairs with speed and focus. Nothing could stop him, not a flying tin of beans, not an onslaught of kitchen tools, not even another dreaded Pokémon ball.

Eddie followed the perpetrator into the car parking structure. His legs wobbled and the stitches in his side tightened. He tried to catch up, but fell to his knees.
 

This isn’t how a twenty-eight-year-old’s body is meant to behave
, he thought.

In Eddie’s moment of defeat, the teen sprinted past an opening elevator door. Rex rode out on the skateboard. He pushed the skateboard along and chased the teen. Eddie painfully pumped his fist with pride, but mostly pain.

Once again, Rex headed towards victory until a car drove between him and the thief. Rex flew straight into the car’s side while the skateboard slid under the vehicle. The car sped off as Rex fell on his back. Rex rolled over to face Eddie. They both gave each other an apologetic half-smile as the thief reached the exit’s white light.
 

The hooded teen ran towards the exit barriers until the skateboard
—
which continued to chase after the teen
—
slid under the running criminal’s right foot. The speeding skateboard pulled the teen’s right leg forward and he lunged further than any male should. The hoodie fell forward as he dropped the stolen bag, which spun across the floor and threw its contents out like a carousel firework. Mouth agape, the teen fell on his side against the concrete floor.

Eddie staggered to Rex, and they both hobbled over to the teen. They could not assess the teen’s state, but his jeans were split. Rex and Eddie checked out the scattered bag items: a can of soup, an incense candle, a pack of electric toothbrush heads, and some DVDs in their original wrapper. It seemed the old lady was a shoplifter.

Rex smiled. “You owe me a tenner.”

TWO

A spongy leather seat never felt so uncomfortable to Eddie. He shuffled in the chair as the amount of company rules the pair broke bounced around in Eddie’s swollen head. Technically, they weren’t supposed to chase thieves once they got into the parking lot. At that point, they were meant to call the police. Their job really was just standing.

The manager sat across his desk giving Rex and Eddie a stare down. His name was Albert Griffin. Eddie always called him Mr Griffin. Chief is what Rex called him. He thought Griffin was the head of security so he treated him like the chief of police.

Rex gave a salute. “Reporting for duty, Chief.”

“Sit down, Rex,” Griffin barked in his gruff voice.

Griffin had grey curly hair and wore the same two old suits on alternating workdays. In his late fifties, he’d worked enough years behind a desk to know he didn’t like it. Griffin now glided towards early retirement and spent his workdays making ships in a bottle.

Eddie flinched at any sign of Griffin opening his mouth; he fully anticipated a verbal onslaught. Griffin stared right at Eddie with no emotion. When he turned to Rex, his face tightened a fraction; new lines appeared which aged him a good ten years. Rex smiled back, pleased with himself.

“Well, well, well. Rex Milton and Edward Miles.” Griffin turned back to Eddie and revealed the tiniest grin. Eddie thought the office heating broke as he instantly felt several degrees hotter. “I’ve waited for this day a long time.”

Rex smiled and nodded. “As have we, Chief.”

“Don’t call me Chief.”

“Sorry, Chief.”

“You two picked the wrong day to go AWOL.”

Griffin considered himself a gentle soul, but Rex would wind him up. Since the chief of police in action movies was always angry, Rex thought his boss being pissed off was part of his charm.

Eddie sensed the impending doom and had to interject, at most he could save himself. “I think Rex and I should be treated separately on this matter
—
”

“Don’t be so modest Eddie.” Rex brimmed with pride as if he expected a medal. “We both deserve what we’ve got coming to us. Right, Chief?”

“This is well overdue, gentlemen. You’re both finished.”

“Great meeting, Chief.” Rex stood.

“He doesn’t mean the meeting,” Eddie said. Rex settled back down with a puzzled expression.

“You two are a pair of
—
”

“Mavericks?” Rex said.

“You both knocked over a fragile old lady.”

Rex threw his hands up in the air. “Uh, apprehended an old lady with many stolen items in her bag.”

“She had receipts for everything.”

“It’s a good alibi, I’ll give her that. Why didn’t she use shopping bags? Huh? Huh?” Rex nodded at Eddie, happy with his victory.

“I think we’ve lost sight of how separate Rex and I are here. I’ve only known him since, uh, play school.” Eddie buried his head in his hands; he knew he hadn’t helped himself with that one.

“Chief, we protect the innocent customer, that’s our job. Sure, we use unconventional methods
—
”

“He uses unconventional methods,” Eddie said.

“Sure, we harmed and harassed such a customer
—
”

“He harmed and harassed such a customer.”
 

As each of them spoke, Griffin’s head turned back and forth.

Rex shook his head. “But don’t blame the method.”

Eddie nodded. “Blame the method.”

“The method works, and if you don’t like it, you best take our badges.”

“His badge, his badge.”
 

Rex struggled to take his plastic name badge off as Eddie sat in shock.
 

“Both of you. Badges. My desk. Now!”

The pair fidgeted with their IDs as Griffin’s eyes burned through their battered skulls. Eddie managed to unpin his and slowly slid it along the desk towards Griffin. Rex fiddled and pulled at his badge.

“Mine won’t come off.”

***

Rex and Eddie sat by the pub window. Shell-shocked, Eddie stared into his pint.

“Come on Eddie, it’s not that bad.”

“We’ve been fired from every job we’ve ever had. We have zero life skills. I can’t even join the army.”

“Have you tried lately?”

“Not after last time.”

“That was because of the chronic sinus infection, right? That’s not flared up in ages. You’re fine.”

“It was the perforated eardrum, which was your fault.”

“How was it my fault?”

“Because you jumped down the flume at Waves Leisure Pool before I’d finished. I landed in the pool, and before I got clear of the chute, you flew right out the tube and kicked me in the ear.”

“That wasn’t my fault. There should have been a lifeguard on duty.”

“We were the lifeguards. Up until that moment anyway.” Eddie swished the last of his beer. “I applied again last year, but I was a pound underweight. So I went and ate four quarter pounders for lunch, and when I returned I puked all over the weighing scales.”

Rex laughed enough to choke on his drink. “Are you serious?”

Eddie smiled. “Yeah.”

“What did they say?”

“The enrolment office took me to the side and unofficially told me I was too delicate.”

“I’m sorry, mate.”

“Last time I tried to join the police force, my asthma flared up during the physical. My mum says I always seem to get sick before a big day. She said I sabotage myself.”

“That’s harsh.”

“I asked my doctor if such a condition exists, and he said it’s called ‘lying’.”

“Maybe it’s just normal hypochondria?” Rex said.

“I asked about that. The doctor said ‘nope, lying’.”

“I’ll get the beers in, shall I?”

Rex headed to the bar while Eddie mulled over his situation. His only achievement was a 2.2 Bachelor of Arts. Eddie didn’t even know what a 2.2 was until after he graduated. While his classmates took photos and ate strawberries with cream, Eddie asked his lecturer to explain what a 2.2 meant. He told Eddie it meant he was average.
 

It’s kind of an achievement
, Eddie thought.
Having a certificate to tell everyone you’re a certified average person.

While Eddie sulked, Rex stood at the bar amazed by a local drunk’s magic tricks. Eddie knew Rex didn’t give unemployment a single thought. He had a simplicity about him, like how he was adamant the moon is flat, and anyone that said otherwise had been fooled by the government.

Eddie tried not to worry about work. He took a deep breath in and out. Once he managed to calm himself down, Eddie looked out the window and spotted two old homeless men sat at a bus stop.

Oh God
, Eddie thought.
That’s us. We’re gonna be homeless bums
.

Rex plonked a fresh pint in front of Eddie. “Do you think we should’ve asked the chief for a reference before we left?”

Eddie rolled his eyes and looked over at the homeless pair. One of them peed into the rubbish bin.

“What am I gonna do now? No one’s gonna hire us.”

Rex grinned. “That’s not true. There are still two people that would hire us.”

“Who’s that?”
 

Rex’s eyes flashed with delight. Eddie was excited for a second, thinking Rex had a genuine trick up his sleeve, but then he realised Rex meant themselves. They were the only two people that would hire them.

“No.” Eddie stood up and backed away.

“Come on, you know it makes sense.”

“And I suppose you know what type of business we should run?”

“I do, and I think you know what it is as well, if you use your,” Rex paused for dramatic effect, “powers of deduction.”

“I’m not gonna open a detective agency with you, Rex.”

“Why not?”

“I need a real job, one where I can make a real living, make something of myself.”

“A boring job, you mean? One with no risks?”

“That’s not fair.”

“Come on, you don’t need Melinda anyway. Girls will fall at our feet when we’re detectives. Dangerous, sexy girls. Femme fatales—”

“No.”

“You can rub it in Melinda’s face.”

“Why do you want to work with me?” Eddie said.

“Because, you have a journalist degree, you have a driving licence, we do everything together.”

“And why would I want to work with you?”

“Because, we do everything together. We just covered this.”

“I don’t know, Rex. I need a proper income.”

Rex handed Eddie a cut-out from a detective’s newspaper ad. “Look at the hourly rate, fifty quid.”

They both earned eight pounds an hour as security guards. Tempted, Eddie ignored all the practical problems and thought about proving himself to Melinda.

He hesitated. “OK, I’m in.”
 

Rex jumped up onto his feet and offered his arms. “How about a hug?”

“I’m not really a hugger, Rex.”

“I thought you were just saving it for a special occasion.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Come on, bring it in.”

Eddie shook his head with discomfort. Rex offered his hand instead, and they shook on it. Rex and Eddie were in business together.

Before the shake was even over, Rex asked “How much do you have in savings?”

THREE

“Is this it?” Rex asked.

Eddie checked the address. “Three-six-nine High Street. This is the place.”

The two friends made disappointed faces as they stood outside the row of Georgian town houses. Above the ground floor’s line of shops, the tall white window frames seemed to pop out compared to the wall’s faint salmon color.

“It’s pink,” Rex said.

“I think that’s salmon.”

“Salmon is code for shamefully pink.”

They approached a door between the toyshop and the recruitment agency. The door was old and battered. Its black paint had chipped and peeled revealing the previous yellow colour; the yellow paint had also chipped revealing a coat of red paint.
 

Eddie pressed the buzzer.
 

“Please act professional, Rex. I want to give a good impression to the estate agent.”

A tall man in his early thirties, dressed in yoga pants and a deep V-neck t-shirt, opened the door. He had a heart-shaped face, a flat nose, shoulder-length jet-black hair, and a stubbly beard.

“Hello fellas.”

“Hi, Jim Jams,” Rex said.

“Oh no, what are you doing here?” Eddie asked.

Jim Jams gave a toothy grin. “I’m here to show you around.”

“What? You’re an estate agent slash drug dealer now?”

“I’m not a drug dealer.”

“Sorry, estate agent slash druggie.”

“The correct term is bio-hacker, but I don’t care to label myself.”

Eddie scoffed at the idea.

“It works. Jim Jams developed a regime that means he hasn’t had a hangover in five years.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”