The Firehills Investigator
The golden glare of the sun cast its light across the streets of London. I didn’t remember the night before but I know it ended with too many drinks at a pub near London Bridge. My head feels like it’s crammed into a vice and I have forgotten to tell the operator to stop turning. This was my fault but I am rather weak when it comes to alcohol. What can I say – I have my vices!
I walked down the street and a passing glance at my watch told me that I was now officially late. I was on my way to Larman’s Solicitors near city hall to attend a meeting with a Miss Sarah Jones. It was she who had sent me the package that contained the photos and file on the Punk Rock band Firehills. This felt odd to me and left many questions unanswered. I had briefly looked through the file the night before and from what I could gather they wanted me to find three men. These are: Neil, the singer and bass player, Jon the guitarist and Bernie the drummer. Together they made up the band Firehills. This made no sense to me. Bands were not usually that difficult to find. In fact most of the time they craved the attention that fame gave them.
I arrived at the 14th floor and walked down a hall to a meeting room where I was to meet Sarah Jones. I entered to see a woman sitting at the end of the room behind a large desk. Without saying a word I simply stood at the end of the room and waited.
“You’re late,” was the response to my action.
“My apologies, but you do work in a big building,” was my lame but straight to the point reply.
I don’t think this impressed Sarah and she began to look impatient.
“I have been told that you are good at finding people,” she asked.
“I have my moments,” I said. “But you must understand that when a person disappears it is usually for one of two reasons”.
“Which are?” She replied.
“They don’t wish to be found,” I said.
“And the other reason?” She asked.
“Something bad has happened to them.”
Sarah paused for a moment and looked hard at me.
“Did you read the file?”
I now paused and looked out of the window.
“Why do you want to find these men? What have they done?”
“You don’t need to know that and my client does not want you to know that,” was Sarah’s firm but to the point reply.
This response did not surprise me and to be fair was common practice in my business. Usually the less you know the better. But my intrigue had the better of me and I wanted to know more.
“Why me?” I asked.
“Like I said, I was told you are good at finding out things.”
My intuition now began to kick in and I pressed the matter.
“This is way below my pay grade and not what I usually do. Why don’t you ask someone from Smash Hits Magazine?”
This was not the response Sarah was looking for and I could see that she was beginning to look annoyed.
“This is a sensitive matter and my client does not want any unnecessary attention. These men are not in trouble and they haven’t broken any laws. Weonly want them found so my client can talk to them. So do you want the job or not?”
I got up and walked towards the door. Sarah went to try to stop me.
“We will pay double your usual rate.”
I stopped and looked at her.
“Fine! Where do you want me to start looking?”