Murdersdale 5

Jedidiah crouched his knee inches from the man’s face. He knew how to land those hits – the man wasn’t unconscious; he was very far from it actually. But at least he’d be unable to stand or make any sudden movements. A good position for an impromptu interrogation.

“What do you mean, ‘if I value my life’? Is that a warning or a threat?”

“Yer a smart un, you are. With yer fancy words and shiny shoes. Er should know be’er than ta meddle in these affairs, Mr. Detective Sir. Leave this town while ya still can, or…”

“Your blabbering is giving me headaches, especially when you say it in that annoying accent,” Jedidiah said, grimacing as he inched closer. “I’ll need to know exactly who sent you here, mister… what is your name actually?”

For a response, Jedidiah got spat on. Right in the face. Before the anger washed over him, he had to acknowledge surprise over the man’s being able to spit relatively high. These backwater townsfolk really did have very absurd abilities.

“That’s my answer to both of 'em questions. I’m John Doe, and I ain’t got none to say to folk like you, I don’t. Smith McFarlane is not a damn tattletale, I as…”

The idiot finally realized he just said his own name, Jedidiah thought. Then again, their way of talking does come in handy, especially when it’s idiots like this guy.

“Smith McFarlane, eh? Nice arms you’ve got there, smith. I wonder what they’d look like holding on to the steel bars of a county jail,” he said, wiping the spittle off his face. “You do know that’s where you’ll be going, don’t you? Stalking with intent to assault an officer, assault on an officer, aiding and abetting a crime, and obstructing justice. I can go on and on and on…”

“That don’t scare me, yer fool. I’ve been through all that and then some’. We done seen a lotta your type in this town, trying to scare us into spillin’ the beans. That don’t work on…”

“You think anybody’s going to come and bail you, pal? You had just one job…” I started, bringing out the police whistle I had. “…and that was to take care of me. You couldn’t complete the job, Smith. Your partners and your sponsor – none of them will risk their cover to come for you. You’ll rot in jail just because of a little information, pal.”

The man’s features softened, but he still kept his tight lips sealed. Jedidiah blew on the whistle until about six officers came bumbling into the alley.

“He was following me. Take him.”

They swooped on the man instantly, their leader smiling. “Smith, you again? Damn it, you’re always offering yourself to be used as a thug for this typ’a things, huh? I promise you’ll get the cell with a view… of my desk that is!”

All the officers laughed as they carted him off, leaving Jedidiah alone in the alley. “The Sheriff was right,” he said, looking at the spit stain on his handkerchief disgustingly. “Sometimes, you do feel like smashing their jaws with the butt of a gun.”

Additional paperwork for him, and then a lot more food for thought. Whoever was pulling the strings had to have a lot of money and influence, and of course, interest in whatever the Eye of the Sky was. Then again, there was the matter of Scarecrow Thomas and his gang, murderers who were on the loose and could possibly be on his tail.

That was another matter to be investigated. Who were people of reasonable influence and affluence in this area? And then it would help if there were also some suspicions against them. Even though he wasn’t supposed to work with prejudice and hearsay, that rule had an exception in towns like this. Every rumor that passed through places like here held much truth in it.

He didn’t know when he had already reached his inn. It was time to let loose a little, relax, and have a shot of brandy or two. The day had been stressful, and damn it, it was still the first day of the investigation.

As he unknotted his tie, he knew the investigation would be something else. And it made him sigh at the amount of time he’d have to spend…

A man dashed by him, going down the stairs. He only had a brief look at the man, taking in his facial attributes, his muddy, brown boots, and then his walking step as the man dashed down, not looking at him for one moment. Somehow, he committed all these to mind’ not like any of it was important, but it was a habit.

Going up to his floor, he met his room wide ajar. Dashing into it, he saw that the entire room had been gone through, and was in a state of chaos. All his belongings were strewn across the room, and books and papers were everywhere.

And then there were muddy shoeprints all over the floor.

“Goddamnit!” he swore, dashing right down the stairs and after the man.

******’

@Hanzell, @Leo_kitti, @Ozzyy somehow I manage to squeeze in these plot twists 😁