Catchee Monkey: A Rex & Eddie Mystery (Rex & Eddie Mysteries Book 1) Read Online Free Page B

deny we ever had any. That’ll work. Right?”
    Rex raided the maintenance cupboard for a Stanley knife and ripped up the carpet piece-by-piece. Eddie snuck it out in a black bin bag and dumped it in the building’s wheelie bin.
    Eddie returned to the office and found Rex sat on the desk.
    “What are you doing?”
    “Nothing?”
    “Is that a question?”
    Rex crossed his arms and legs. “No?”
    “You said that as a question as well.”
    “Did I?”
    “You need help moving the desk?”
    “I like it here.”
    “We need to get the carpet from underneath it.”
    “What if, we cut around it and left some carpet under the desk? Like a rug. There’s hardly any paint on this part.”
    “Just lift the other end of the table.”  
    Rex jumped off and grabbed the desk’s end. Eddie lifted his side but Rex struggled with his.
    “Lift, Rex.”
    “I am lifting,” he said with mock strain. He made a big dramatic sigh like he’d given up. “I think my end is broken.”
    “Lift with your back.”
    “I lift with my hands.”
    “Yes, hold it with your hands, but support it with your back.”  
    Rex shook his head like he’d been asked to do the impossible. Something wasn’t right.  
    Eddie placed his hands on his hips. “What are you hiding?”
    “Nothing.”
    Eddie slid his table end onto the wood floor and lifted the carpet. Underneath, he found the remains of a faded chalk outline in the shape of a man slumped on the floor. A slight red cloud spread around the head.

FOUR

    “Rex, did you know about this?”
    “I just saw it while you took out the carpet.”
    “Did you know someone died here?”
    “I’m sure it cleans off easily.”
    “Really? Because the red stains have been heavily brushed.”
    “Wood is porous.”
    “Bloody Jim Jams. You knew about this, didn’t you?”
    “You said you wanted a cheap office.”
    “Tell me they caught the killer?”
    “I believe so. The Door Knock Killer did it.”
    “Oh, please.”
    “It’s true. He knocks three times before entering and kills everyone that heard.”
    “If he killed everyone that heard, how does anyone know about it?”
    KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK. The door made them both jump.
    “Uh, get the door Rex.”
    “You’re closer.”
    Eddie took two deliberate steps away from the door. The handle rattled and turned. The door opened, and in stepped Harold the cleaner.
    “Have you got a woodie?” he asked.
    Eddie cocked his head. “I beg your pardon?”
    “A woodie. Do either of you have a woodie?”
    “No.”
    Harold hurried off and slammed the door shut.
    Eddie turned to Rex. “What was that about?”
    Rex shrugged. “Man’s looking for a woodie.”
    Outside the hallway Harold shouted: “Does anyone here have a woodie? Anyone?”
    Rex and Eddie popped their heads out the door, as did those from the other offices in the corridor.
    “I’m looking for the owner of a woodie,” he called out. “A lime-green woodie.”
    Oh crap , Eddie thought. He realised Harold meant the Morris Minor.
    “Me!” Eddie said. “I’ve got a woodie.” The other occupants all stared at him. “I mean, a Morris Minor.”
    “It’s getting towed.”
    Eddie ran outside in enough time to watch the tow truck drive off with the Morris Minor. He’d forgotten there was no parking after four o'clock to allow a second lane during rush hour.
    Knowing at least another hundred quid just drove down the street, Eddie sighed in defeat and walked back to his office of death.
    “So, you knew about the killing.”
    “You said you wanted a cheap office.”
    “Now they’ve got six months rent, so we’re stuck here. Perfect.”
    “Calm down Eddie, they caught the killer.”
    “I’m googling it.”  
    Within fifteen minutes, Eddie found news stories of the death of a sixty-eight-year-old man named Derek Lawrence. He was ex-TV writer who used the office to write novels, none of them published. The man led a quiet life upsetting no one. It was not believed to be the Door Knock