The Trusted Professions - Chapter 9

Yeah, you know, where you just stay in bed and don?t do anything except screw like bunnies for twenty-four hours solid? Every morning I?d wake up at check-out time and book the same room for another day. We didn?t even get out of bed for food, we instructed room service to let themselves in and put the trays on the end of the bed while we hid naked under the blankets until they were gone.

Max called the dungeon and cancelled all her appointments. I left a message at the office telling Jez I needed some time to get my head together and was taking the week off. We spent all of the second day screwing silently in case he was in the adjacent room, collecting all the EQ (And yes, we?d stuck all the cameras and mics in our room back with the rest of the gear. And no, we didn?t forget to take the footage of our first night out on a memory stick and delete it from the laptop).

And we just spent all our time?luxuriating in each other. We took baths together; fed each other food; told each other every joke we could think of (isn?t it funny how you can never think of them when you?re asked to?); watched TV movies while holding on to each other, breathing each other in; told our best and worst break-up stories, our best and worst get-together stories, our most embarrassing sex stories, our grossest childhood discoveries, our most life-threatening brushes with death; we told each other about our families, then decided they were boring so invented new families for ourselves; we invented stupid fairy stories to entertain each other (mine was about a man who couldn?t die but hated life and spent his days trying to think of ever-more inventive ways to kill himself in case there was one out there that could do the trick- hers was about a woman who could remember the future but not the past, so lost more knowledge of her life on an hourly basis- eventually we decided to combine stories and have each of our respective characters fall in love with each other and solve each other?s problems); we ran our hands over each other just the sheer tactile joy of it; we went through each other?s iPods, giving squeals of delight when we saw tracks we both loved, teasing each other mercilessly when we saw tracks of unforgivable naffness; we laughed, a lot- she had a hundred different kinds of laugh and I wanted to hear every one; we gave each other ludicrously long all-body massages, Max giving me directions because I didn?t have a lot of experience in it; we ordered the dailies and read the letters sections to each other in silly voices, then she helped me solve the crosswords and I helped her with sudoku; we spent one afternoon simply staring into each other?s eyes, saying nothing, myself rather overjoyed about being able to stare so long and so freely at something so unequivocally beautiful; we talked about what we wanted to be when we grew up, and how that had turned us into what we were; we talked about our best friends when we were kids, and our best friends now we were grown up; we told each other what we were most afraid of; I did an ironic striptease for her- she did a serious one for me; we kissed for hours and hours and hours and it seemed like minutes.

But mostly? We fucked. And fucked and fucked and laughed and fucked. Then we fucked some more. I couldn?t look at Max for two seconds without wanting to fuck her silly. You?re probably wondering how she was in bed?

Not really.

Incredible. Just?insane. I feel this rush, this surge, through my body, right now, just thinking about how damned good it was. You know how they say heroin in a hundred times better than sex? Well this was a hundred times better than heroin. It was?it was?

Ten thousand times better than sex?

Yes! That?s exactly right. Ten fucking thousands times better. Prison?s really the right place for me, cause I?m fuckin? ruined for regular sex now. Jesus. It makes me weep just to think of it. I really do remember thinking to myself that I?d never been so intensely happy. Happiness was practically sweating out of my pores. I never told her I was in love with her, but I thought it like a thousand times. That girl. Jesus.

Are you okay?

Yeah! Yeah, I?m good. Sorry.

So, we went in on a Tuesday, and on Saturday I finally turned my cell back on. There were about a dozen messages from Jez, each one more furious than the last. I played them to Max and we laughed at his escalating outrage (?You can almost hear the blood vessels bursting through the phone.? Max quipped) until he finally left a conciliatory message asking for me to please call him. I called him up, with Max snuggled up to me and the earpiece, trying not to snigger.

?Dal? Where the hell have you been? I?m swamped! I?ve been giving Mrs. Colmes the run-around trying to avoid a straight answer. I need you back, stat. As in right fucking now.?

?Yeah I?m sorry man, I?ve been, ah, sick and stuff.?

?You are such a fuckin? artise d? bullshite.?

See, the thing is, everything I?ve told you so far may be leading you to the conclusion that Jez was this incredibly grumpy, stressful guy. That?s the worst thing, he wasn?t at all. I mean, he was at the time, but he really was a sweet, funny guy. I?ve laughed more with him than I have with anyone else on this earth. I can?t count the nights we stayed up laughing until it hurt, I mean, that is what a funny guy he was. I just can?t remember anything funny in particular that he said around at that time, in fact it?s more likely that he didn?t, I mean, the last days of his life were not pleasant ones for him, I guess he wasn?t being too funny then. But he really was an excellent guy, I just want to make that clear, in case I?m making him out to be an asshole. He was my best friend for fifteen years and I wish to hell he was still alive.

?Yeah. I?m sorry. I hope it hasn?t been too rough.?

?Nah, it?s been okay. Just get your ass back here tomorrow. I mean it! You?ve gotta call Mrs. Colmes and give her the bad news.?

?Right. I?ll be there.?

?Okay. I?ve gotta run Sam to class tomorrow morning, so you get in early and open up. I?ll be in after eleven.?

?Will do.?

?Alright. I?m still pissed off at you. You owe me a beer?two beers!?

?As many as you want, man.?

?Okay. G?bye.? He hung up with a curse and Max and I rolled around the bed laughing after the connection broke.

?Aww, let?s not be mean. He?s alright.? I said with a giggle. Max gave me a look of faux gravity.

?Absolutely.?

?Alright, wanna call the concierge and see if we can bribe him to bring us a Scrabble board??

?Do I!? Max squealed with delight and jumped about the bed clapping her hands.

You probably thought our goodbye was one of those long, soppy romantic ones where each person refuses to be the first to leave. It wasn?t. I got up at six am on Monday morning and left her sleeping. I kissed her lightly on the forehead and said goodbye, she mumbled something back from her dreams. I went downstairs and paid the bill (ouch, by the way). Summer had just broken so I decided to walk to work. My apartment was in Rotherhithe so if I kept to the Thames I could pick up some fresh clothes on the way.

London has a reputation for being the dullest and dingiest city in the world, but let me tell you, when summer hits, the whole place glows. What once was a single grey mass defines itself into blocks of vivid colour. The edges of the buildings seem so sharp they cut into the sky. The river glows with orange fire. I walked along the Thames path, reflecting on everything that had happened in the last week, and felt happy. I was in such a good mood I even said ?Good Morning? to passers-by, and was surprised when they reciprocated my greeting in kind. That?s the thing about the sun coming out- it doesn?t just change the face of the city, it changes the faces of the people in it, if only for a little while.

It took me about three hours to walk from Liverpool Street to Canary Wharf, so I got into the office just after nine and opened the place up. I booted up the computer and took a look through the week?s log. Not much had changed since I?d been away. I couldn?t really blame Jez for not getting a lot done; PI work is hard by yourself.

So I?m going through the files, and our receptionist mustn?t have come in yet, because I hear someone clearing their throat behind me, and I turn around, and my heart skips a fuckin? beat, I mean, I?m extremely lucky I didn?t crap my dacks right then and there, because standing at reception was no other than Saul fucking Colmes.

?Hey, whoa. Hi! You?re ah, whoa, uhm, welcome to the Trusted Professions, how can I, ah, how can we assist you??

My mind was running a mile a minute, trying to keep my cool but figure out what was going on at the same time. One of the thoughts in amongst the others was that I couldn?t have been making a very good impression.

?Hello, pleased to meet you, I?m?? he extended his hand.

??Saul Colmes.? I finished for him, shaking his hand firmly. Someone told me once when I was like ten or something that you could tell the measure of a man by the firmness of his handshake. I always made it a point to have a slightly overpowering handshake, ever since. Colmes was obviously given the same advice. Maybe I?d heard it on his show. ?Dalent McKinley. I?m a fan. What can I do you for?? I ushered him into the office and pulled out a chair for him.

?I don?t mind saying that I feel sheepish coming in myself. Normally I?d ask my assistant to look into it for me, but it?s a rather?personal matter, and one I?d like to keep on the QT.?

I breathed a sigh of relief as it dawned on me that he didn?t seem to be screaming or threatening to sue us. He seemed to be coming in as a client. It?s probably a good thing he looked us up himself. Our ad was definitely the largest in the yellow pages, but anyone with any nous would have overlooked that for the more experienced dicks.

?Discretion is our specialty. We barely remember our cases ourselves!? I joked, embarrassingly. I was incredibly flustered, but all in all I thought I was doing very well for myself. ?Er, tell me about your case.?

?It?s pretty simple, really.? He seemed a trifle, I dunno, shy? Certainly not the brusk, domineering man I saw on my computer monitor a week prior. ?I met a young lady last week,? (my stomach dropped about ten floors) ?who made quite an impression on me.? (and rose about twenty) ?The only thing is, there was something?not quite right about her. She pitched a show to me that was absolutely unbelievable, for starters. I?ve never even heard of the media company she claimed to represent, nor have any of my associates. It could be a startup, I guess, but it hasn?t been in the trades if it is.?

?I see. And you want us to???

?Well, just?check her out, I suppose.? He sniffed. Poshly, if that?s possible. ?Make sure she?s on the level. I smelled something fishy, is all, so got the hell out of there- just as things were getting interesting, as a matter of fact!? He laughed stiffly. ?But now I rather regret it and wonder if I shouldn?t give her a call. So I thought you might, well, run a discreet inquiry into her background, make sure she?s all kosher. Nothing too rigorous- I?d just like to make sure she doesn?t have some kind of separate agenda, really. I?m a well known figure, it wouldn?t be the first time someone has tried to?well, take advantage. But it?s certainly the first time I?ve ever gone against my instinct. But this woman, well, I think she may be worth a little?investigating. She was...really something.?

Visions of Max above me, below me, around me, flashed through my mind. I felt a seething turmoil just below my stomach. I gritted my teeth, and then forced myself to relax.

?I?m sure she was, sir. And this young lady?s name??

?Karen Ellis.? He handed me her card. I smiled internally at the knowledge there were a dozen more just like it in a filing cabinet not six feet from where we were sitting. I?d made them. ?I?d need quite a quick turnaround- I?m quite anxious to contact her. You don?t need to write a dossier on her or anything. Just get me the basic facts. You see what I?m driving at??

?Absolutely.?

?And it goes without saying, I hope, that if one word of this gets to the press, I?ll sue you and the next two generations of your family into oblivion.?

Jez could hardly believe the news. He was like a little kid. He leapt around the office for joy when I?d told him what had transpired.

?This is brilliant!? His face was practically radiating. ?That little minx. She did it after all.?

?Wait. What are we gonna do? Can we really take his case??

?Are you kidding?? Jez laughed like a maniac. ?We can?t exactly turn his case down for ethical reasons; it?ll swing suspicion on to us in an instant.?

?But surely we can?t?lie to him. He?s a paying customer!?

?That?s the beauty of it! We?re getting paid twice for the same case!?

?But we?re not doing the job for him! Surely we can?t.?

?Of course we fucking can! Don?t you see how fucking beautiful this is? It?s fucking gorgeous. We couldn?t have planned it better!? He rushed up and gave me a big kiss on my forehead. He started singing a football anthem: ?United is playing toooo-night! I naaaaah-ver miss a game.? He was jubilant.

?I dunno man.? I shuffled on my feet. Even though we were equal partners, financially, he?d always been the motivating force behind the operating. It was tough to argue with him. I wasn?t even sure what I was trying to say. ?Are you sure??

?Yes! It?s brilliant. Look, we tell Mr. Colmes that ?Karen? is all in the clear, we get paid for that job, he calls her up, they get together, we film it, give the tape to Mrs. Colmes, get paid for that job, and Robert?s your father?s brother. Fantastic.? He smacked his lips. ?I wouldn?t have believed it if you hadn?t told me yourself.?

?What if Colmes comes after us once Max leaves the picture??

?For what? Getting dumped? Good luck getting that through court. This is too good to miss. I can?t believe you?re even considering not going forward with this. It?d be a crime against symmetry not to!?

I laughed. I guess he was right- there wasn?t much alternative, either way.

?Okay, you pirate. Let?s see how it rolls.?

He clapped me on the shoulder, like he did the day we met.

?Great. You give Max a call; I think she liked you more than me. Have you still got her cell number??

?Yeah, I think I?ve got it around here somewhere?? I muttered.