Peculiar

a private investigator gets more then he expected on a normal case.....

Peculiar

By

R.A.Clayton

 

If the sky had become any darker Peter Peculiar, local discount private investigator, would have insisted that it had been night or at least late evening. Nevertheless it wasn’t night nor evening has he stepped out of his beaten and batted brown Austin Allegro. Peter looked up at the building he had been asked to visit. His longish brown hair wafting in the light breeze. He got a slight twinge has he looked at that massive building block filled with flats. His legs already began to ache has he observed the stairs through glass windows that followed them up to the heavens. He retrieved a piece of scrap paper from his trouser pocket and held in his hand. His unreadable handing writing, being compared with that of a drunk spider on many occasions, couldn’t have been mistaken this time has “242” or floor twenty four flat number two glaze up at him. Those numbers give him a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. Highs were never something he liked, ever since the tree incident at nine years of age.

Peter enter the front door of the building and saw that the lifts were broken, just his luck, and so he started his expedition towards. His legs felt like they had been replaced with over cooked chicken legs and he was using the bone end has his feet. By the time he made it to the twenty fourth floor he had become a mess. Taking a breath outside the fire door that lead to the floor of flats he whipped the sweat that form a waterfall has it dripped the rest of his face. All the while he kept his back to the windows that looked upon at the world below. Peter didn’t know if he was sweating from his climb up the stairs or the fear from being so high.

After a minute or so had passed Peter pulled the heavy door open and walk upon a river of green carpet that ran along the hallway’s floor. Peter strolled down the hallway. Swiftly Peter got to flat 2 and upon making it there knocked on the door. Has he waited for someone to answer he began to sort him out a bit better. He pushed down his fleshly cleaned blue shirt into the top of his black suit trousers. Then he straighten out his brown trench coat and lastly levelled out his black brown tie with some white stop thrown into the mix. He just enough time to whip away new sweat that had collected on his face with the napkin he got free with his lunch earlier. When he heard someone moving around inside. Moments later the door began to open and standing like a solider awaiting orders Peter freeze to the spot.

With nerves at first but eased nearing the end Peter started off this interaction by saying

“Hello am Peter Peculiar you called me this morning about some concerns you had.”

The woman, blonde hair and wearing a crisp clean white power dress suit and more jewellery that a rapper, answered the door. Peter had come up little nicknames for types of people during working has Private dick and one them, which he straight away put on this person standing before him, was P.P.B or Pretty Posh Bird. They were women that cared more about how they looked and how much money they had in there one hundred pound wallet thing then even their children in some cases. Peter didn’t like these type of people. Peter didn’t like most people, being anti-social was abit of problem for him has his line of work involved people. So he waited for a response, not knowing her name at this point he didn’t know what else to do has he waited and watched has she looked him up and down. She looked at Peter like he was just some strange insect that she had just discovered swimming in her toilet. Approximating if she could risk her Aristocratic house to this unknown thing she seemed to make her mind has she said.   

“Yes please come in”

She then moved back for Peter has he, with a sense of trying to work out the conundrum of what just happed on his face he made his way inside her home. She closed the door a bit too quick for Peter’s liking has he waited in the hallway. He didn’t think, from the way she torn him part with sight alone, that she like him just moving about the place. And it seemed to the right move as a pleased looked appeared on her face has she turned to face him.

“Am glad you came so quickly Mister Peculiar. I wouldn’t have rang you if I had another way to sort this out. But then again I guess that is something that you must run your business on. People with few choices.”

The posh and now rude woman expressed has she directed him to the living room that laid ahead. He didn’t reply to her query just giving a slight grin has they sat down on the one of two white leather sofas. In the centre of the room and in the middle of the two softs a glass coffee table had been placed. He didn’t know if it were silver but the table had beautiful shaped legs. Small loin heads on each four of the legs greeted Peter’s graze. Everything in this room looked expressive. And Peter knew that expressive things meant that this woman could pay. Subsequently his normal route to a pay day of finding lost dogs and cats with the odd cheating husband or wife cases had dried up. They were much chances to pay his bills. He had to odd jobs whenever he could and Peter wasn’t one for Manuel labour. However in all truth he tired of those cases. Yes they paid the bills from time to time but he needed a challenge.

“You may be right there Miss…”

Peter started off saying has he reached in the inside pocket of his Trench coat and pulled out a small notebook that had a small pencil pushed down the spine.

“Stevenson’s but please call me Bella.”

She said finishing Peter’s sentence.

“Okay Bella” Peter said with clear tone of voice.

“Please explain to me what I can do for you.”

Bella looked consoled, has much has you could tell from her painted face. She then took a breath and let it out has she made a fist with both of her hands in her lap. Peter watched has she seemed to change from the stuck up P.P.B he met in the hallway minutes ago. He removed the pencil from the makeshift holder of the notebook’s spine. He flipped through the pages until he find a blank page. He sat ready to listen to Bella’s story. Ready to take notes of importance, but also how much he was going charge her.

Peter’s interview of Bella carried on for an hour. He drunk tea and for an hour Peter sat there and listened to her tell of woe. He heard all about her husband not coming from work until late at night. How she had found marks on his body. Stitches on his back and on his arms. And now one of her friends had seen him with an unknown woman during his lunch hour. It had turned out to be another cheating husband job. So wasn’t the challenge Peter wanted but cheating partners were his bread and butter. He left Bella’s flat with his mission. But Peter didn’t really care. At the end of the day if someone paid him enough he would have fellow someone’s cat around at this point.

The dark sky that had greeted him when first arriving at the block had been broken down by the mid afternoon sunlight. Fresh puddles of rain water had produced on the pavement has Peter made it to his car. Unlocking the driver side door he climbed inside to sit down on a brown leather car seat. He pulled out the notebook from his coat pocket and flicked though the pages to Bella Stevenson’s notes. On the last page he pulled out the pencil again from its home and wrote in big letters he wrote down “Cheating Husband oh my God!!”

The next day Peter caught sight of Noel Stevenson’s, Bella’s husband. Earlier in the day he asked around the local pubs, eateries and bed and breakfasts, places were a cheating partner would take their secret someone. But he find no sign of him, at least that was what the staff told him. So outside his place of work Peter waited. Arriving just before eleven thirty in the morning he parked his car across the street from the building. Another massive building too look at from the outside. He had clear sight of the main way in and out.

It wasn’t a long wait till he got his first sighting of his target. And from the way he held himself, he appreciate has he watch him from his car, he looked like a man beat down by life. Undoubtedly over weight his over flowing stomach flopped like a bag of butter over his trousers with his white shirt joining it. His hair, thinning on the top, flopped in the slight breeze has he made way to an outside seating area.

Noel’s place of work or official title was accountant, sorry executive accountant. He looked boring. Like someone who would talk about his work all the time. Undoubtedly Bella would be a typical trophy wife. Nerveless his trophy wife required him to get proof of his double-dealing cheating ways. But has he watched him he couldn’t see him cheating on her. Horrible to say but he couldn’t see him has the local love god. So he waited. His camera relaxing in his lap. Ready at any moment to take his shots.

Therefore he sat and waited the 45 minutes it took for Noel to eat his sandwich and check his phone, possibly his checking his e-mails. When done he fell out of sights, has he made his way back into the building. Hours passed slowing. Most of the time, to pass the time mostly, he would read. You couldn’t find Peter on a stakeout without a book in his hands or a newspaper. Today’s classic read, picking it out a pile on his bedroom floor that morning, was “Little Woman”. Peter didn’t know what it was about and he still didn’t know by the time he reach the second chapter. But most importantly like everything else in Peter’s life it wasn’t in any way a new copy. The pages of the book were yellow from age and the front cover, cracked and torn in places, pictured the three sisters in a 1950’s style of drawing. But Peter didn’t mind second hand books buying volumes of them on eBay. There had been little to read in the car as the day before he had a clean out. He had already finished today’s fish ‘n’ chips wrapper while having his morning toast and lukewarm tea. The leading story had been the same over the past few days each day coming up with new angles on the same story. It had been all about the disappearance of an ex jail guard.

Peter had followed the story from start to finish, the investigator in him ever rests it seemed to him. He knew all about now he had been taken in the middle of the night from his home while his wife slept soundly beside him in the bed that they shared. No blood, No forced entry it had been a mystery now the kidnaper did it. With little else to do with the newspaper Peter had used its pages has a rag has he washed his windows that morning. Peter didn’t recycle but he believed in many uses for many things.  

He had gotten up to chapter four by the time it hit five o’clock, Noel’s clocking out time. He watched has people poured out the building in waves and then he watched has the security guards began to lock up for the evening. But still Peter couldn’t see Noel. He quickly checked his notes to make sure and he had not made a mistake. He could have gone out the car park but has Peter raced around the block to the car park. He saw that his car still parked in position. Puzzled by this Peter began to drum his middle finger on the stirring wheel after he parked up. He often did the drumming thing when he would start thinking, what to do next. He thought about it has he watched the single car in the otherwise empty car park. An hour passed then another.

Daylight became the darkness of night quickly has he saw no sign of the man. Peter began to get impatience with this cat and mouse game he seemed to be playing with this guy. He began to drum his finger on the stirring wheel again has he watched for any sign. He pulled up the sleeve of his coat and looked at his watch. 7.30pm. He couldn’t wait anymore. Peter put away his book into the glove compartment. Exchanging the novel for a small flash light and exited his car. He made his way across the busy London road to the opening of the car park. Hastily and trying not to be noticed he made his way across the grey stones of the car park to ward’s Noel. Peter didn’t want to touch the car in case of alarms going off but still he managed to peer inside using the light from the flash light examining the front seat and back. He found nothing if importance apart from the fact that this Noel guy had an addiction to chocolate. Remarking the empty wrappers on ground by the passage seat.

Peter knew that photos of empty chocolate wrappers on the floor of his car wasn’t going to him paid. He needed photos of Noel with his tongue down some woman throat and he knew that he wasn’t going to get them by standing outside the place where he must still be. He needed to get inside that building.

“This is going to be interesting” Peter said to himself in his head as he walked at a steady pace toward the looming building. He switched of the flash light has he got closer to the building. He hoped the darkness that had now engulfed the region would give him some cover from sight has he tried to find some way into the darken building. Making it to the back of building Peter hoped to find a service door unlocked or a window he could open with the nearest big loose stone. Thus it had been a shock when he did find a service door unlocked. He may have hoped to find one unlocked in the past but that hardly happened. But he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth and slowly he opened the door. Sounds of metal against metal seemed to be the loudest sound in the world has he opened it enough for him to enter the building. Behind the door it seemed to be darker then outside. He had little choice now but to switch on the flashlight once again. With light from the modern lantern in his hand he made his way down an empty lobby. All the while his mind and heart were racing. But entirely he could think about was getting his story straight if or when the police shown up. But by the time he had got to the end and he found himself another door, an exit door, he had one thing running in head “what the hell was he doing?” It’s true he never went above and beyond for any of his other clients but then again he never had a client who paid this mush before. Slowly he pushed open the exit door and found himself in the lobby of the building. He didn’t need the light from his flashlight anymore has soft light from the overhead lights shined down upon him.

Peter knew he had to work quickly he didn’t know if the police were on the way or this place had night security. Standing in the lobby he reached into his loose hanging trench coat left pocket and removed his camera replacing it with the flashlight. Ahead of him he found a staircase that lead up to the upper levels of the structure.

“Not more stairs” he said quietly to himself. His legs ached at the sight of them. With yesterday’s climb still fresh in his memories Peter stared at them from the bottom to the top. He guessed that the buildings CCTV system would pick him up has he made his way up. But he knew from other times that he did this breaking and entering thing, more entering then breaking in this case, that he could whip clean the recordings if he found the room. However that had been the strange thing. Has he made his way up the stairs, taking care not to make much noise has he did, he noticed that all the cameras hanging from the ceiling were switched off, the red light were non-existed. Besides this abnormal detail Peter continued to make his way up. Gradually he made it to the top and he saw that the top level spilt into two hallways. He couldn’t see any sign that anyone was still in the building. But he had to make sure. With light still shining down from the ceiling he found on the wall directions to people’s offices. Among the ten plus names Peter saw the one he was looking for “N. Stevenson”. He got his camera ready has he made his way to the left, has the directions alleged.

Kneeling to the ground to avoiding being seen he started to crawl on all fours this seeming endless hallway of office doors. It didn’t take too long before Peter found Noel Stevenson’s office. From the outside there were no sign of life from the office, no light nor sound. Still Kneeling down Peter, camera ready in hand, straighten up enough to peer throw the crystal clear opening of Noel’s office door. Nothing no sign of him. Not even his computer shown signs of life has Peter examined the office closely. He couldn’t understand it. However he had little time to thinking about it. He had to get out of the building, a night in the cells wasn’t something he looked forward. Swiftly he retraced his steps down the stairway back the way he came. Arriving at the lobby he put away the camera and substituted it with his flashlight. Pushing the clicker down he moved the switch on his flashlight back on as he made his quick exit. Nevertheless has he made his way to the exit door he used to enter the building he found the first sign of life as he passed a single door along the way.

It came from what appeared to be the basement of the building. They were echoes like someone moving about down there. Like the crunching sound that shoes make when hitting a grit floor. They were destined at first but they got louder has he moved closer to the door. He put his hand over his other hand to muffle the sound of the click as he turned off the flashlight. Then sluggishly he arose to push the door open. It had no more than four inches wide when he sleeked into the top of yet more stairs. Low lighting on the ceiling travelled the staircase making it somewhat easy for Peter to make his way down. Trying to make has little sound he could hear the sounds clear now with every step he took. He didn’t know where they stairs would lead to he hoped that they would lead to Noel Stevenson’s with someone so he could get his photos and that would be the end of it. He reached into his pocket and held the camera nearby. The uproar that came from the bottom got brasher has Peter, unremitted in his selection to see this to the end, and made his way down the newly discovered flight of steps. Peter listened closely has sweat established itself a base of operations on his forehead to form an attack on the rest of his body. This had to have been the most exercise over two days he had in for a time and knew one thing he wouldn’t be going down or up any another stairs for a while. They broadcasted themselves echoing up towards Peter has he slowly voyaged downward. They got louder at first then they seemed to fade away before returning to becoming louder again. His mind raced as he got nearer to wherever this would halt. Questions and answers of what he might find down there made summersaults in his head. Then has he got closer these notions seemed to disappear like soap bubbles in a bathtub has he could hear them more clearly now he nearly got the last few steps. They reminded him of a guard patrolling inmates on a prison ward. Step after Step they seemed to Peter that were following a set path of a straight line. Now new questions and less answers swam in his petri dish mind.

Hours seemed have passed by the time he got the last two steps. Moving gradually downwards wasn’t easy. He had to think about each step he took. At the top before he started his journey he could see nothing at bottom just black mixed with some illumination. But he thought they must be something or someone down here making those noises. But being candid he really hoped for a locked door and a good night am gone home type of swan song. However what he got was nothing. That had been because the overhead lighting that Peter had been relying on to guide his way with light didn’t go down that far. He would have liked to at this point say a quick “f**k!” under his breath. Normally this would the way that he expressed his anger but if he didn’t want not to be hear he would just said it in his head. So here he just stood. Second to last step starring at the pitch blackness ahead of him. His eyes then adjusted to the lack of light and he could just about make out the faded outline of an entrance. Like a doorframe but missing the door.

He didn’t notice, too busy freaking, that he didn’t twig that the footsteps had stopped. His instincts told him to forget it go back up and try another time to get his pay day. But his curiously, which won most of the time, told him to carry on. And so he did, but not before getting his camera out ready just in case. Gently has if the floor had been made out of glass he step down to the last step. Trying has hard he could to make as little noise has he could manage.

Peter could hear his heart beat in his chest and the blood flow through his veins it had become that silent. Looking downwards, his eyes had begun to work better, he saw the last step and then the ground of the basement. Loose stones peppered the ground like pebbles on a breach. Without knowing what laid ahead of him he stepped down upon the uneven ground. They munched and churched under his shoes as he stood not daring to move any more. He couldn’t see anything he eyes useless in the dark. Silence engulfed his hearing. He didn’t know what to do. Should he call out? Should into his pocket and pull out the flashlight contrasting to the camera? But then his choices were cut down to size has out of the darkness two hands reached out grabbed him.

Dragging Peter into the gloom of the darkness the hands hurled him to the ground. Terror enclosed his mind. He laid on the floor for what seemed like eternities not knowing his immediate fate. He then went blind has bright lights overwhelmed his sight has he heard a light switch flick. He didn’t have time to get his full sight back before the two hands grabbed him again and throw him across the room. Beating the bare brick wall with the weight of his body he felt the pain of the hit run through his entire body. He yowled in throbbing pain. Even has he had been brought to his feet once again by the pull from the two hands gripping his clothes. He didn’t have any time to think or react. His sight rapidly returned to normal has his eyes adjusted to the light. Then he saw who the two hands belonged too. Noel Stevenson’s arrival into Peter’s sight almost give him a sense of finally in his mind. Then he saw the state of Noel.

Like a rabbit animal Noel mounted Peter’s frame against the wall has he shrieked and squawk into his face. His boring, normal state from earlier gone. White foam poured from his mouth has with pure power Noel influenced Peter’s body more and more against the wall. His white shirt and jacket from earlier were gone also. His vest had been the only thing he still wore and that had been covered in blood. His own blood Peter didn’t know. He was too busy has agony swam through his body has hard brick and flesh were passed together.

“Noel stop!” Peter screamed into his attacker’s face has blood began to relocate into his mouth. The copper taste of his own blood began to pour faster into his mouth has Noel push got harder. Noel didn’t seem to or want to stop. He knew then that he had no choice. With that divulge information in his mind Peter began to hit and throw blows with his fists and his elbows. Then his legs and feet join the party kicking him every place he could. Whatever he seemed to do it did little to stop Noel. Even has he felt Noel noise break with one of his hits and blood decanted from the open cut. Noel kept on pushing him harder into the brick wall, which had now started to cut into his flesh.  

“Stop Noel...” Peter bawled at the highest he could go with his voice. Noel continued his attack unmoved it seemed by Peter appeals.

“Your wife sent me Noel...please stop!” Peter said after he swilled the blood in his mouth, like a fine wine, before splitting it out on the ground. Noel halted his outbreak of violence. His face changed and slowly he released his victim. Peter fell to the ground gripping his sides and back in agony. He watched has Noel recoiled to the other side of the basement. Peter could do nothing but observe Noel has he laid there unable to move purely out of pain. He watched has Noel bended down curled into a ball putting his face between his legs and hugging arms.

“You know if I wasn’t in pain right id kicked your arse right now.” Peter half joked has he pulled himself up to his feet and rested against the wall he felt affectionate towards now in a strange way.

“Well at least you’re not doing some sex thing down here. Your wife will be happy about that.” Peter continued.

“What are you doing down here anyway?” Peter said at Noel but got no reply.  Then his sights moved from Noel to his surroundings, has he noticed that the ground felt wet under his feet. It wouldn’t have been misplaced on a horror movie set. The basement of the ordinary building, a place of work, that Peter had found himself in was a room of revulsions. Body parts and blood were everywhere he could guise. The ground had been soaked with blood. He then looked down upon himself. Flesh warm blood ran down and soaked into his clothes too. His coat more any other piece had been exposed in the life giving mess.

He could have been sick has the smell now engulfed him full on. During the attack he hadn’t noticed it. His mind too busy to make sense of anything at the time. He covered his noise the only sure clean place on his person his sleeve of his shirt. Nervously Peter began to move closer to the biggest piece that he could see. The ground moved under his feet has he moved. Like walking on jelly the stones relocated from side to side has they mixed with the blood and whatever he was stepping on. The biggest piece had been a bottom half of someone, from what they were wearing a male. It had been a pair of jeans that they were wearing. Where the abdomen should been was nothing has the flesh looked ripped has the skin hung over the exposed guts. But that wasn’t what Peter was looking at it had been the wallet that was nipping out of the back pocket.

Still watching Noel in the corner with one eye. Peter leisurely stretched down and clutched the end of the wallet and drew it out. Opening it up he saw something he never expected. In the clear section of the wallet he saw the driving license of this person. To his shock he found that this was the missing prison guard. This had been his body. This had been his blood. He stood and looked around himself. He didn’t notice that Noel wasn’t in the corner anymore. Bare skin beating unfriendly stone echoed through the once basement turned crypt has he turned his head and saw the back of Noel’s feet running up the flight of steps.

Rapidly he hurled himself across the room. He heard the basement door get locked, sealed and secured. He couldn’t move more hastily up the stairs to fellow if he tried. The throbbing pain in his back had reached new high levels has he made each step count. Finally getting to the top of the flight of steps he couldn’t walk any longer. He lost all government over his legs has he collapsed to the ground. He began to bang on the closed door.

“Noel! Let me out!” Peter yelled at the top of his voice. But he got no response. Noel it seemed had gone. Peter could so nothing but lay there. He knew he couldn’t get out of there. Not till the morning. But he had all this to explain. He didn’t want to go back down to the basement nor did he want to stay here but he had little choice. He had little choice but to wait and so he did. He waited till the police came minutes later. He waited till he had been put in a prison cell. He waited till he found out he had been pinned for the murder of Joe Kent. He waited for his lawyer to prove, has the court date had been set, that he didn’t do it. And he waited has the jury found him guilty. And he waits in his jail cell, waiting for twenty years.

He had told everyone about Bella and Noel Stevenson, of course he did. He would have screamed it if it helped. But when police turned up at the posh flat they found nothing. An empty apartment and no trace of anyone by that name living there. And has for Noel Stevenson. There was no trace of him never worked there. He couldn’t get over that day Peter. So much that he didn’t stop working the case. And now his wait is over, earlier half the time in fact. Peter ten years older and ten years wiser left Mayland Prison gates into the forgotten sunlight. He stared at the sun and sniff the free air.

A peculiar smirk arose on his face has he straighten up his backpack with his belongings. He pushed in the release papers from his stay. And has he did Peter started to walk into the sun has it set in the sky. He knew that he something to do, he had a new mission.      

Author's Note

any notes would help me please