The Late Clients

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Jake Beazley L4E        -  -        19/09/2009

The Late Clients

Chapter 1

I walked into my office, happy with my achievements today. I had successfully closed a hard case, the client being Elaine Smith. Elaine and I were quite good friends. We are not only on first-name terms, but she calls me ‘Eddy’ rather than Edward. I may have even fallen in love with her if it wasn’t for Caroline being so kind and pleasant. I don’t exactly love Caroline, but I am very very close friends with her.

There was some post for me on the floor, which I picked up. “Edward Chapman, Red Cottage, Moniave, Dumfries and Galloway, Scotland. Private and Confidential” it read. At first, I thought it was just another bill, but on closer inspection, I noticed it was the same type of envelope as Elaine used. It was not from her, but from a would-be client. I had not heard of this person, but I had decided to give myself a break. I started to reply to this letter (a polite declination, of course) when the phone rang. It was Bill Smith, who is Elaine’s brother. The tone of his voice sent a foreboding chill down my spine.

“Ed, I have some extraordinarily bad news. You are the first one I have told. Elaine’s body was found earlier this morning, under a ‘sand dune’ on the beach by Stranraer. I have managed to get the cops to leave it alone for you to examine first, for your investigation. I’ll pay you £1,000 per month.” His last two words were almost completely drowned by the tide of his grief.

“But…but…” I stammered. “You think it’s a murder then?” I managed to ask when I had composed myself.

“I’m not sure, but I believe so, the ‘sand dune’ was very compact, as if someone had suffocated her”.

“I’ll do my very best, and you know it. This one’s personal.”

“Thanks Ed.”

Click. That was it. So much for my rest, but this one I could not let lie. Damnit, why Elaine?

I had only two clients this year, and now Bill was my third. Elaine was the most recent client, followed by Ivy Crookshank and now my first male customer of the year.

* * *

The room is dark, gloomy and humid. This gets me agitated. What makes me completely livid is the fact that Ivy Crookshank went to that private dick about me. Boy, she’s going to be pushing up the daisies if she ever goes to see that man again. How can I run a drug racket if people keep on turning on me from the inside? Still, at least she couldn’t go to the police because they would’ve put her away for working here. In fact, maybe she should be disposed of now…

Chapter 2

I got into my Ford Focus estate and drove the 45-minute drive to the beach by Stranraer on the west coast of Scotland. Those minutes seemed to drag on and on like hours. It was a clear, cool day and I could see right over Loch Ryan and even over the North Channel. I went into one of the infamous white tents that the police put up around a crime-scene. The police here are corrupt, hardly surprising giving the remoteness of the area. I did not want to tell them anything I knew about Elaine, right down to the tiniest detail like the fact that she was not actually engaged, merely wore an engagement ring to deter random men hitting on her. Very sensible actually, in my opinion.

They hadn’t touched the body or the ‘dune’. The sand around her had indeed been tightly compacted, as if someone had buried her. Now came the emotionally hard part. I had to excavate the body. As I was doing this, I noticed her watch face had been smashed and the clock had stopped. Luckily, Bill had bought her a good watch for her birthday; it had a date counter too. She died yesterday at 10:58pm. Somehow, if possible, knowing when she died made the newly created void even deeper. The bugger was going to pay for this. My mobile rang at that instant. The number on the display was my offices’. It was the cleaning lady, Ms. Li, who rang to tell me about the death of Ivy Crookshank in suspicious circumstances earlier this morning.

Join now!

“Yes, thank you” I said in a condescending manner, “I am on a much more personal case and one that is highly paid, not on a whimsy for someone that just happened to be a past client. Good day.” I hung up and immediately regretted it, she was only trying to help me, and I brushed her aside without thought.

After all, both of these murdered people are past clients, but I hope this is just an unhappy coincidence.

Elaine was bruised, which suggests she put up a fight, so probably didn’t know her murderer. “Great!” I thought ...

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