Lacey Investigations: The Private Detective's Rulebook.

Always Conduct Yourself in a Professional Manner: Part 2

2.1

     '... She was just a child, Nick. Fourteen years old.' Beth Roberts caught Nick Lacey's eye and refused to let go.

     'Aw come on, Beth, don't do this to me.' Nick blocked her out by taking a deep chug from his pint.

     'In her own bed, with her parents asleep in the next room.'

     'It's Thursday night, I just want a few beers, maybe drop some coins in the jukebox at the Giffard, get a big fat kebab and pass out on my sofa. Is that okay with you?'

     'And she's not the only one. There are potentially up to four other bodies. I think it could be the same man.' Beth fanned her face with the file, while around them undergraduates abused the buy-one-get-one-free student night offer.

     'For fuck sake.' Nick acquiesced, 'Show me.'

     In the time it had taken Nick to go through Beth's file, a four pint pitcher had been thoroughly dealt with by a group of lads on the next table; one of whom had hilariously taken to wearing the pitcher over his head, while the others flicked beermats at his face. Beth sat intently watching Nick as he absorbed the photos and reports. Nick dropped the file on the table and leaned back into his seat. He  pinched his bottom lip with his thumb and the second knuckle of his forefinger.

     'What do you think?' Beth leaned toward him. 'Its got legs, hasn't it?'

     'Just... Give me a minute.' Nick rubbed his eyes. In the corner, somebody lost a game of giant Jenga, much to the noisy delight of the rest of the bar. Nick looked Beth in the eye. 'Yeah. Yeah it's possible.'
    
     'That's it? I was hoping you'd have more for me.'

     'I don't know what you want me to say, Beth, there's not a lot to go on here.' Nick ran a hand through his thinning brown hair. In his early thirties he'd always said that if he made it to his forties with a full head of hair he'd be happy; now with his fortieth relentlessly approaching, he was hoping for an extension on that deadline. Fuck it, grass doesn't grow on a busy street. 'Look, there's not a whole lot to go on here, no telltale similarities with any aspect of the individual cases.'

     'But...?'

     'But,' Nick gave her a nod, 'it does feel like the same guy. It's all a little too random, like it's intentional.'

     'All the victims are female, and the level of violence...'

     'Still isn't enough to go on. Come on, Beth, you know what kind of world we live in.' Nick put his hand on her's. 'I know you're frustrated.' Beth pulled her hand away and used the palm to rub a tear from her cheek.

     'I just feel so... powerless.'

     'You can't let it get to you. Keep at it. If there's something to find, you'll find it. Just don't go to your D.C.I until you have something solid.'

     Beth nodded. She took the rest of her glass of wine in a single hit, slid the file back into her bag, and kissed Nick on the cheek as she got up to leave.

     'Sorry I ruined your night.' She said.

     'Nah, I'm not feeling it tonight anyway. Come on, I'll walk you to the taxi rank.' Nick drained his own pint glass. He stood, and placed the glass on the bar. 'Cheers, love.' he nodded to the girl behind the bar.