The Mystic Detective

[ creative writing]

Introducing the Mystic Detective

Business was poor but it could wait. What was the point in having a Fuck You Fund if it couldn’t? Even if said fund was shrinking at an alarming rate. Well Paul blamed his appalling taste in music, clothes, drink and drugs. And why did brandy taste so much better after 12 o’clock and in an expensive club like The Streets with what could only be described as a crooner singing in the background accompanied by what sounded like effortless piano playing. But Paul knew through his own extended efforts how much effort it took to sounds effortless! ‘Hmm sex is rather like that. You have to not want it that badly, have to have learnt to apparently live without before it comes knocking on your door, or putting its head in your lap like a unicorn. Even then it helps not answer the knock immediately – a brief delay was so cool so classy.

Such randomish musings were interrupted – wait for it! – by a knocking on his office door. Paul smiled with delight at the apparent synchronicity involved.
- Yes?
- Paul Whitley?
- Yes
- The detective?
- Yes
- Right
- Come in.
He showed her into his tiny office which was in a less than fashionable, i.e. cheaper, part of the city centre. She was well dressed in what seemed to be M&S clothes – no not the middle aged range but something younger but still respectable. She seemed about 5 or 6 inches taller than Paul which was not saying that much given his 5 foot 2 and she did have heels, well cut black hair in a sort of post modern page boy style. Dyed thought Paul at first but probably not. Her hair framed an anxious face which is repose would not actually be pretty but would certainly be interesting.

Paul directed her towards the visitor’s chair and sat down himself and inquired
- So Mrs-
- Mis
- Mis?
- Mis Brenda Hampton
- Mis Brenda Hampton what brings you here?
There was a slight pause whist Brenda swallowed and then took a deep breathe and jumped in.
- My partner Percy has disappeared.
- Ah
- I last saw him two days ago. He went off on a business trip to York and I haven’t heard from him since.
- Oh (Paul usually confined himself to odd grunts and exclamations during his first encounter with a new client. It usually enabled them to tell their first version of their story fairly briskly.)
- He was due to come home that night and in any case we usually swap texts when we are apart.
- Aah
- So I am getting rather worried….
- Have you told the police?
- Yes of course, but they wont do anything for 48 hours and in any case they insist that as Percy is an adult…
- I understand.
- OK, do you have any ideas of what may have happened? (You would think another woman or he just wanted to leave home or??) Was he acting strangely, or did you notice anything different?
- No…. but yes, it’s hardly worth mentioning
- Yes
- Well Percy has recently started attending a local Yoga class.
- Hmm.

That was about all that Paul usefully gathered from that first meeting with Brenda but enough to begin his investigations.

The next morning in Fuel, a rather dishevelled Paul was propping up the counter or rather the counter seemed to be propping him up as he took in the usual cafe scene. Tina was behind the counter at Fuel with short straight black hair, white face make up, pillar box red lips, black T shirt, black jeans, black boots, black socks, silver studded belt, silver eyebrow and nose studs. She had been having a quiet gossip with Jenny the cook and was slowly fixing Pauls’ regular regular cappuccino. (regular as in it was a regular size and regular as in it was his usual drink)
- It’s so weird what happened recently
- Yeah
- Yeah. I’ve only lived in my street for a few months now and there this old woman two doors down and yesterday she spoke to me for the first time
- Uh uh
- She said ‘You’ve taken over from me’ meaning that she used to be the mysterious woman of the street and now it was me
Hearing these words from Tina, Paul was startled as he made a connection. ‘You’ve taken over from me’ of course that was what had happened in some way for Brenda. He knew in some curious but inexplicable way that Percy had been ‘taken over’ in his yoga class. This was part of his way of detecting, being open to connections and interconnections and what Jung called synchronicities.

Jenny looked at Paul in surprise.
- Whaaaat?
- Oh nothing, well something you just said just triggered a connection for me.
- Oh right glad to be of service,
said with a raised eyebrow which Paul choose to ignore.

Later on Micky Flynn – real name Jack Flynn but naturally(!) everyone called him Micky – joined Paul who was now sat at his usual breakfast table in the bay window at Fuel Café.
- I dunno why you still hang out here with all these punks and Goths
- I like the ambience and the veggie food (And the denizens of Fuel helped Paul with titbits of information (at a price) and occasionally did leg and internet work on his behalf)
Flynn needed Paul’s help in tracking down a runaway girl. It might seem strange that a Detective Sergeant was using a Private Eye in this way but Micky and Paul went back a long way. In fact back to when Flynn was being blackmailed (See ‘Watching the Detective’.)


Tina to Micky – have you been done, meaning have you been served? Micky deliberates misunderstands – No I’ve not had the operation yet. Paul groans.
- Sorry but she did ask for it
- Don’t even go there
said Paul noticing the frown on Tina’s face.

More to follow