Catchee Monkey: A Rex & Eddie Mystery (Rex & Eddie Mysteries Book 1) by Sean Cameron

didn’t want them to think most deaths were writers.”
    Brown groaned. “Did you think that?”  
    “I don’t think I should share what I’m thinking right now,” Eddie said.
    “Just so it is clear,” the officer said. “Do you understand that although the percentage of writer deaths is low in the grand scale of deaths in Cloisterham, the number of writer deaths that turn out to be suicide is considered high.”
    “Are you finished?” Brown said.
    “And those aren’t exact numbers,” the officer added.
    Eddie’s eyebrows lowered. “Those weren’t numbers at all.”
    “Finished?”
    “I just wanted to make sure I was understood?”
    “Yes. I understand,” Eddie said, exasperated.
    Rex tilted his head. “I don’t understand.”
    Eddie pointed at Rex. “My advice is to let that slide.”
    The officer took a deep breath. “So, the deaths in Cloisterham are mostly made up of murders, manslaughters, accidents — ”
    “Please,” Eddie said. “If you are going to insist on doing this, may I go to the toilet?”
    ***
    Brown marched Eddie to the men’s room. Once inside, Eddie thought something wasn’t right. Maybe it was needing a potty break when his life was in danger. He thought adrenaline and testosterone were meant to take over, but here he was at the urinal.
    When does Jack Bauer find time to use the bathroom? He wondered. During the ad breaks?
    With his hands thoroughly washed, Eddie opened the door with a paper towel. In the hallway, Brown listened on his mobile phone. He raised his finger to imply "wait a minute" and continued to talk. While he waited, Eddie glanced at the photos on the wall. There was a picture of a policemen’s ball from the seventies, a picture of an egg and spoon race with policemen and their children, and a third picture showed a charity dinner of police officers sitting with their biggest donors. Next to the Police Chief, sat Terry Palmer.
    Brown answered questions with “yes” or “no.” Eddie couldn’t pick up any details, only Brown’s agitation.
    He tiptoed a few steps to a turn in the corridor and found a staffroom. Through the door’s window he saw police play pool and watch football on a large flatscreen TV. A small gold plaque on the door said, Staffroom renovation made possible by the generous donation of Terrance Palmer. “My thanks to the boys in blue, Terry.”
    “Oi,” Brown said. “No walking off.” He clicked his fingers and pointed at the floor near him, commanding Eddie like a dog.
    “Understood.” Brown hung up and looked Eddie up and down. “You done?”
    Brown and Eddie re-entered the interview room. Rex and the officer sat back laughing. Rex rolled his tongue while the officer wiggled his ears.
    “But can you do this?” Rex’s tongue touched his nose.
    “I can’t. You win. You’re the bigger freak.”
    “I told you. You can’t out-freak me.”
    Brown banged his hands on the table. “Cut it out.”
    “Sorry boss. We’ve made progress. Rex here says he copied the documents proving their case.”
    “What?” Eddie said. “Why didn’t you say?”
    “You never asked.”
    “I asked if you backed it up.”
    Rex giggled. “You back up files. You copy paper. You can’t back up paper.”
    Brown tensed up. “We best go get these papers of yours then.”

ELEVEN

    Rex and Eddie sat in the back of Brown’s car as he drove towards their office. Eddie fidgeted as his brain mulled over the police station’s connection with Terry Palmer. If Brown worked for Palmer, like Eddie believed, then they were in trouble.
    Rex sat back and took in the ride. “A real police car. Amazing. Hey, why are these seats so uncomfortable?”
    “They need to be a material that’s easy to clean,” Brown said. “So it won’t absorb any liquids.”
    “What kind of liquids?” Rex said.
    “Bodily fluids.”
    Eddie’s nostrils flared at the idea.
    Rex thought for a second. “What kind of bodily fluids?”
    Brown set his gaze on Rex through the