Jack and the Cat

It was a cold, wet and windy night in the city that time forgot. I walked out of my office and into the dark. There had been a murder. How did I know? Someone told me, obviously. I'm not psychic, you know. If you are looking for a psychic murder mystery...you are reading the wrong story, pally. I am your normal common garden murder mystery solving investigative journalist. The cops, bless them, had threw out this case, according to my client, on account of their being no signs of foul play.

I had learnt to take what the law says about murders and other crimes with a pinch of salt. They did not enjoy the best track record.

As I walked along the dirty, wet streets of the city I called hom, the street lights were trying to illuminate the scum of the world, but, failing badly, as their bright lights were dull flickers.

"This town is really going down the crapper" I said to noone. A bum looked at me for some money. I just walked on by to the sound of "Think you're better than me, arsehole?"

I didn't stop to argue that, given I was wearing a nice coat and heading home to a warm, allbeit, empty house and bed, that I was at least doing a little better than him.

I was feeling too lazy to bite back.

Approaching my favourite watering hole, I saw Old Penisnose smoking outside. That wasn't really his surnmae, obviously. He just had a really long nose which had mushroom-shaped nostrils - hence the name. I could never tell if he liked the name or not. I used it nonetheless.

"Jack, just the man I wanted to see" he said dropping his cigarette and squishing it below his boots.

"What is it now, Penisnose?"

"That murder...the one that happened in Junkie Corner...I have some information...it's from a reliable source."

"Reliable source...you? Give me a break, Penisnose."

It was funny watching his penisnose flare up at the accusation that his information might be as good as a bag of dog piss.

"Do you want the information or not, Jack?" he grumbled.

"I'll entertain you, old man...what can you tell me?"

"The victim is related to the owner of that swanky new cocktail bar, nail bar and spa place that opened up last week...what's it called now...Kitty's Klaws or something?" he sneered. I could tell he wasn't a big fan of it.

"Kitty's Katerwauling...you mean? I know the owner...from my past." I replied looking into the middle distance, for some reason.

"Yer, that's the one. Nice joint...bit too refined for a man of my kind."

"You prefer the dirt of the Old Red Lettuce" pointing to the inside of the dusty, smelly old bar. I loved the smell and the strange aura that filled the air around the pub. It had a kind of magic to it. I didn't have time to enjoy the glory of the Old Red Lettuce, though as my phone vibrated. Lifting it from my long brown coat, I saw it said "The Pain in my Arse" "Gotta go, Penisnose...the bane of my life needs me to check out the murder scene."

"Say hello to Andrea for me and I will pray for you tonight, Jack"

"Thanks, appreciate it" I replied heading to my car, as I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the wing mirror of my old Volvo. "Damn, Jack...this is not going to be pretty. You've looked better". Licking my hands and trying to reposition the slight quiff I had going on, I was not happy about how much grey there was up there and my eyes showed the lack of sleep and excessive amounts of single malt I had consumed in the last week. Maybe Andrea would overlook those things...who was I kidding? I can imagine the first things she would say to me would be...

"Jack bloody Dawkins...you look like an old pile of piss. You've gotten old, man and have you been hitting the bottle recently? Your lips are still attractive, at least" was the first thing that Andrea said.

"What have you got for me, Andrea?"

"Kitty Kavelli's nephew...has reportedly committed suicide. But, I'm not so sure. I wanted some fresh eyes on it and for some unknown reason, that I am slowly regretting looking at and smelling you."

"Step through the door and give me your opinion...it looks staged to me."

I walked in and wasn't sure whether to laugh or throw up.

"What the..."

"Yeah, dying naked with your arse in the air and your head in a vent. We're not even sure how he managed it."

"It is a rather small head, to be honest. He must have used some oil, lubricant or...butter?"

"Butter? That's if it wasn't suicide at all. To me...my bosses are trying to cover up something."

"I definitely think it was a murder...because if you look at his neck you can see signs of his skin flaking. He's been pushed into that vent. The question is...why would your department want to cover this murder up?"

"Kitty still has connections in high places. Perhaps the nephew was going to drop her in it. She must have alerted someone and they've staged this to look like murder."

"What do you want me to do about it? You're one of them...can't you just go over their heads?"

"I value living and having a job more than Kevin here..."

"Gotcha...you need me to do your dirty snooping around. Sure, I'll help you...but it will cost you. The usual."

"Fine...I wouldn't have expected anything less from you." Andrea replied, while rolling her eyes.

My next stop, then, was Kitty's Katerwauling. Other people would have perhaps taken a different approach. Not me. I have always favoured being a bull in a china shop approach.

Walking into Kitty's Katerwauling, was always an eye-opening experience. Lots of what you would expect from that kind of establishment. All the women dressed in tight outfits, displaying varying degrees of flesh. The old girls as well as the young ones. Some dancing on the bar...some serving at the bar. Some entertaining special regulars in booths. It was a veritable den of iniquity. One that I used to frequent...a long time ago.

Staring into the middle distance, again, I was lost in thought before I heard the hiss and the grating laugh of one Kitty Kavelli. "Jack bloody Dawkins...the tom that got away. It's been a while..."

"Not long enough, Kitty." I scowled.

"Is that any way to treat the woman who devoted so many of her best years keeping you alive?" she hissed.

"We both know it wasn't just my fault. So what happened to Kevin? Was it really suicide?" I quickly changed the subject to the matter at hand.

"The boy was deranged. A disgrace. I take it you saw the body? Andrea been snooping around getting herself into other people's business as usual." she snarled.

"Now, now...what happened was ancient history. And like you say, I was to blame for the majority of our troubles...including Andrea!"

I tried to reason with her, but trying to reason with a cat like Kitty Kavelli was like trying to piss in the wind and not splash yourself. Almost impossible.

"Like I say...the boy was deranged."

"So the rumours he was going to spill the beans on your deals with the local law enforcement were just rumours then?"

"Of course, sugar" she smirked and winked.

"Fancy a drink, for old times sake?"

"Sure...the usual." I couldn't resist the offer of free whisky with a good looking broad. I am not actually sure why I said broad. It felt appropriate. Then it didn't.

The Karma Police will be out to get me I guess.

"What did you say about Karma Police?" Kitty queried from behind the bar, looking over her delicate shoulders with the smile that could kill.

"I was talking to myself, I think" was all I could reply.

"Somethings don't really change, I guess." she laughed passing me a scotch, but letting her long nailed fingers linger over my craggy, cut and beaten up hands.

"I do miss our little battles of wills, Jack." she purred.

I just downed the scotch and smiled knowingly.

"Maybe when I've solved the murder of Kevin, we can have a bottle together like old times."

"Maybe" she miaowed, as I felt a heavy thud to the back of my head and then the world went black.

Not again.

"Rise and shine, ballbag" shouted a low voice as I tried to open my eyes and focus on my surroundings.

"What the hell..." as water was sprayed in my face from a bottle.

"This is a message from the boss...stay away from Kitty Kavelli and let her nephew rest in peace."

"Or what?"

"Look to your left, Mr Dawkins"

As my vision came slowly back to me and my head stung, I could see a river.

"Understand?"

"...yeah" I responded reluctantly.

"Good." the voice said as he pulled a hood over my head and knocked me unconscious again.

I woke up in my office with another blinding headache and Kitty's lipstick on my wrist. That felt like a warning and a threat. Sleep with the fishes and all that. How unoriginal, I quipped to myself and the dust bunnies around the floor of my office.

Taking a sip of the most rancid and cheapest whisky on my desk, I tried to piece everything together in my head.

Looking around for my notepad to write down my thoughts on Andrea's case I saw a coupon for "Real Life Crime Thriller Experience for one".

Wait...what?

*

Thanks for reading!

Author's Notes: Yeah...