Geoffrey Collins, the last case. ~

Geoffrey Collins The last case ~ Chapter three

                                                                    Chapter 3

                                                                    46 hours

  I got a tip from one of my sources that the girl was being held at a hotel in Charleston.  "What?  You want vacation now?" Said my captain, completely misunderstanding my request to go to Charleston.  "No of course not." I told him. "I have a source that says the girl is in Charleston."  "A credible source?"  He asked.  "Well, I feel that we need to run down every lead. Captain please, even if it's not me, have someone check it out!" I told him.  "Who is your SOURCE!"  He yelled.  "*gulp*  Mason Raker" I told him.  "WHAT?  You want me to spend valuable police time and money on something provided by that ... that ... UNRELIABLE FLAKE?!"  He yelled.  Now this may all seem a bit much, but Chief Hendricks had a good reason for feeling this way.  It wasn't, as you might suspect, all about money.  He had a sort of personal vendetta against Mason because he was once deceived and humiliated by him.  To help you understand exactly what happened I'll tell you the story now.

 You see about two years ago Mason Raker called in a tip about something that was going to be stolen.  "The robbery is happening tonight.  The thieves are going to steal the portrait of Dr. Gachet, yes THAT portrait of Dr. Gachet"  he told us.  Now usually we only handle kidnapping and homicide, but Chief Hendricks decided that we should handle this case because it would be "good for our public image."   I was sceptical because unlike me Chief doesn't know anything about art. "Look" I told Mason. "No one even knows where that painting is!"   "You know Ryoei Saito right?" He asked.  "Yes he bought The Portrait Of Dr. Gachet for 83 million dollars." I told him.  "Well, 82.5" He said. "Anyway Saito had a will, he went out and selected a random person, a very lucky person."  "Are you saying he left it to someone he met on the street?" I asked.  "Yes, a Roberto Deumeaund to be exact.  He sold the painting to Luke Michaels, a wealthy art enthusiast."  I wasn't sure.  It seemed too perfect, too easy.  Chief wouldn't listen to me though and so we DID as the chief put it "spend valuable police time and money on something provided by that unreliable flake."  And not only was it a bad tip, while we were over at Mr. Michaels' house waiting for the mystery criminals, Mason was across town pulling off his own score stealing Mark McGwire's 70th home run ball, valued at roughly 3 million.

 So, that's the story of why you can't trust Mason Raker ... when it comes to thefts, but this tip is different from his other one.  This was about a kidnapping, not theft.  "What could he have to gain?" I asked Chief. "Maybe he wants another few million dollars!" Chief said to me.  "Look Chief, I'll pay for the plane ticket and it'll take an hour and thirty minutes, three hours round trip." I begged.  "You will pay for the ticket?  Alright then!  But you would have to go by yourself.  I will not spread my men thin based on something provided by Mason again." He told me.  "Yes sir.  I just hope he proves reliable this time.  I would hate to waste time, especially considering how little we have left."  I told him.  As I walked out of the office I saw Jay.  "I just want to thank you, you might have saved my life by winning that bet." I told him.  "Any time you want to lose a bet just call me." He said.  "Do you know how Detective Carpik is doing?" He asked.  I told him that Carpik was fine, but was with a counselor.  "By the way, are you okay?"  He said.  "Yeah, I'm fine, I'm just tired.  I've been on this case since the start and have slept for about four or five hours since then."

                                                                                                  45 hours

 "We're ready to begin boarding now.  You may now begin boarding, please wait for your row number to be called."  Came out of the radio.  Of course, this did not happen and most boarded the plane like ravenous wolves.  On the way there the flight was very smooth.  While in the air I thought about all the work it took to get me even allowed to do detective work in Charleston.  I won't bore you with all of the details involved as it would not make a pleasant story.  I arrived in Charleston in a very humble little town and called a cab.  As I sat in the airport waiting, a man walked up to me and said:  "Are you Mr. Collins?"   "Yes, could you take me to the Sbarge hotel please?"  I replied.  As I walked to the taxi cab something didn't feel right.  This driver didn''t act like a regular taxi cab driver "So, detective, on vacation?"  He asked.   "I never told you what I did for a living.  How did you know I was a detective?"  I questioned him.  Suddenly a pit formed in my stomach.  I now knew for sure that this was definitely no taxi cab driver.

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The shortest chapter in the book, and one of my favorites.  This one talks about a tip he got.

Will Detective Collins solve the case?  Will he find the girl?  What will happen?  Who is that taxi driver? I've posted chapter four now ... you better read it ... if you don't the tooth fairy won't give you money.