STORYMIRROR

Donald Roberts

Crime

4.5  

Donald Roberts

Crime

The Adventures Of Donovan Primrose, Private Eye, Shamus At Large

The Adventures Of Donovan Primrose, Private Eye, Shamus At Large

18 mins
428


Copyright2023 by Donald Harry Roberts

This Copyright Over-rides All Other Agreements made With Story Mirror.

Introduction

Donovan Primrose was not your average private eye. He was only four feet four inches tall, born with dwarfism. But he didn’t let his size stop him from pursuing his dream of being a detective. He had always wanted to be a cop, but he was rejected by the police academy because of his height. He didn’t give up, though. He trained himself in martial arts, earning black belts in Ninjutsu and kung fu. He also learned how to use nun chucks, which he carried under his leather coat. He was tough as old leather, hard as ironwood and as sharp as a razor.

He had another reason to be a private eye, besides his passion for justice. He wanted to find his parents, who had abandoned him when he was a baby. They were dwarf performers in a circus that went out of business. They left him on the doorstep of a child welfare office, with nothing but a note and a locket with their pictures. He was adopted by a police officer and his wife, who couldn’t have kids. They raised him with love and support, but he always wondered about his biological parents. Where were they? Why did they leave him? Did they ever think about him?

He now lived in his adoptive parents’ home, which also served as his office. They had retired and moved to Florida, leaving him the house and their blessing. He had converted the basement into his workspace, where he kept his files, computer and other equipment. He also had a yellow Volkswagen Beetle, customized to suit his size. He drove it around the city, looking for clues and clients.

He wore a brown wide-brimmed fedora, blue jeans and a blue denim shirt. He looked like a miniature cowboy, but he didn’t care. He had a sense of humor and a sense of style. His greatest strength was his mind. He was a master sleuth, able to solve any case with his keen observation and deduction skills.

One day, he received a phone call from a woman named Linda Carman. She sounded desperate and scared.

“Mr. Primrose, I need your help,” she said.

“What can I do for you, Ms. Carman?” he asked.

“It’s about my husband, John. He’s missing.”

“Missing? How long has he been gone?”

“Two days. He didn’t come home from work on Monday night. I called his office, but they said he left early that day. I don’t know where he is or what happened to him.”

“Did you report this to the police?”

“Yes, but they said they can’t do anything until 48 hours have passed. They said it might be a voluntary disappearance, that he might have run away with another woman or something.”

“Do you believe that?”

“No! John would never do that to me! We’ve been married for 15 years, we have two kids, we love each other. There’s something wrong, I can feel it.”

“OK, calm down, Ms. Carter. I’ll take your case. Where can I meet you?”

“I’m at home right now. Can you come over?”

“Sure. What’s your address?”

She gave him her address and hung up.

Donovan grabbed his coat and hat and headed to his car.

He had a new case.

He had an adventure.

He was Donovan Primrose, private eye.

 

Part One: The Missing Husband

Donovan Primrose parked his yellow Volkswagen Beetle in front of a modest two-story house in a quiet suburban neighborhood. He checked the address on his phone and confirmed that this was the place where Linda Carman lived. He got out of his car and walked to the front door, carrying his leather coat and hat. He rang the doorbell and waited.

A few seconds later, the door opened and a woman appeared. She was in her late thirties, with blonde hair and blue eyes. She looked tired and worried, with dark circles under her eyes and a pale complexion. She wore a floral dress and a cardigan.

“Ms. Carman?” Donovan asked.

Linda Caraman looked down with curious glance. “Are you Mr. Primrose?” she replied.

Donovan Primrose smiled, recognizing the look. He said with a touch of humour, “Good things come in small packages sometimes and I’m here to help you find your husband.”

Ms. Carman blushed a little and replied, “Thank you for coming. Please, come in.”

She stepped aside and let him enter. He followed her to the living room, where he saw a couch, a coffee table, a TV and some family photos on the wall. He noticed that one of the photos showed Linda with her husband John and their two kids, a boy and a girl. John was a tall man with brown hair and glasses. He looked like a typical office worker.

“Can I offer you something to drink?” Linda asked.

“A coffee would be nice, thank you,” Donovan said.

“OK, I’ll make some. Please, make yourself comfortable.”

She went to the kitchen, leaving Donovan alone in the living room. He took off his coat and hat and put them on the couch. He looked around the room, trying to get a sense of who John Carman was. He saw some books on a shelf, mostly thrillers and mysteries. He saw some DVDs on another shelf, mostly action and comedy movies. He saw some trophies on a mantelpiece for golf and bowling. There were some magazines on the coffee table about sports and cars.

He concluded that John Carman was a normal guy who liked normal things. He didn’t seem to have any hobbies or interests that would make him stand out or attract trouble and he seemed to have a happy family and a stable job with no reason to simply up and disappear.

“But he did.” Donovan uttered curiously.

Linda came back from the kitchen with two mugs of coffee. She handed one to Donovan and sat down on the couch next to him.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Primrose,” she said.

“Call me Donovan,” he said.

“OK, Donovan. And please, call me Linda.”

“Alright, Linda. Now, tell me everything you know about your husband’s disappearance.”

Linda took a sip of her coffee and began to talk.

She told him that John worked as an accountant at a firm called Croft & Darcy. He had been working there for 10 years and was well-liked by his colleagues and clients. He had a regular schedule, leaving home at 8 am and coming back at 6 pm every weekday. He rarely worked overtime or traveled for business.

She told him that John was a loving husband and father who cared deeply about his family. He always helped with the household chores and spent quality time with his kids. He never cheated on her or abused her in any way.

“John has no enemies or rivals that I know of. He doesn’t gamble or do drugs and drink moderately. We enjoy wine with dinner and sometimes a drink in the evening. He never drinks a parties. He doesn’t have any debts except our mortgage and there or no health problems or mental issues.”

She told him that John had disappeared on Monday night, two days ago. He had left work early that day, around 4 pm, according to his boss who called her later that night. He had said he had some personal errands to run and would be home soon. But he never came home.

She had tried to call him several times, but his phone was either off or out of service. She had checked his bank account and credit cards online, but there were no transactions or withdrawals since Monday morning. 

“I contacted his friends and relatives, but none of them have seen or heard from him since Monday afternoon. When I had gone through all the things I could think of I tried to report him missing to the police. That was yesterday morning, but they told me they couldn’t do anything until 48 hours had passed since his last known contact. They suggested that he might have run away voluntarily with another woman or something like that.”

She had refused to believe that possibility. She was sure that John loved her and would never do such a thing to her or their kids. She was sure that something bad had happened to him.

She was scared and desperate.

 

She finished her story and looked at him with hopeful eyes. 

“I need your help Donovan. Can you find my husband? Can you bring him back to me?” she asked.

Donovan looked at her with sympathetic eyes.

“I’ll do my best, Linda. I’ll do my best.”

 

Part Two: The Troubled Employee

Donovan Primrose called John Carman’s work place and arranged a meeting then drove his yellow Volkswagen Beetle to the office of Croft & Darcy. He parked his car in the visitor’s lot and walked to the reception desk. He showed his ID card and asked to see Mr. Croft, John’s boss.

“Mr. Croft is expecting you,” the receptionist said. “He’s in his office on the third floor.”

She gave him a visitor’s badge and directed him to the elevator. Donovan thanked her and went up to the third floor. He found Mr. Croft’s office and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” a voice said.

He opened the door and entered. He saw a man sitting behind a large desk, with a window behind him. The man was in his fifties, with gray hair and a mustache. He wore a suit and tie and glasses. He looked like a typical accountant.

Come in Mr. Primrose?” the man invited but he had that tell tale look that Donovan always got. Donovan grinned and put out his usual response, “Good things….

Croft stood up and shook Donovan’s hand.

“Please, have a seat.”

He gestured to a chair in front of his desk.

Donovan sat down and put his coat and hat on his lap.

“Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Croft,” he said.

“No problem, Mr. Primrose. I’m happy to help you find John.”

He sat down again and looked at Donovan with concern.

“I’m worried about him, you know. He’s been acting strange lately.”

“Strange? How so?”

“Well, until recently, he was a model employee. He was diligent, reliable, efficient, and friendly. He had a good reputation among his colleagues and clients. He was one of our best accountants.”

“But then something changed?” Donovan inserted quizzically.

“Yes, about three months ago, he started to behave differently. He seemed distracted, nervous, irritable. He started to make mistakes in his work, which was very unlike him. He started to take longer lunches and sometimes came back smelling of brandy.”

“Did you confront him about it?” Donovan quiried.

“Yes, I did. I asked him if he had any personal problems or if he needed any help. But he just brushed me off and said he was fine.”

Donovan asked, “Did he give you any explanation for his change?”

“No, he didn’t. He just said he had some things to sort out and that it was none of my business.”

“Did you notice anything else unusual about him?”

“Well, there was one thing that puzzled me. I must admit I followed him one day to a bistro uptown.”

“You followed him?”

“Yes, I did. I was curious about what he was doing during his long lunches. I wanted to see if he was meeting someone or if he was involved in something shady.”

“And what did you see?”

“I saw him meeting with a man who looked very official, like some sort of police officer or something.”

“A police officer?”

“Yes, he wore a dark suit and had a badge on his belt. He also had a briefcase with him.”

“What did they talk about?”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t hear them from where I was sitting. But they seemed to have a serious conversation.”

“How long did they talk?”

“About half an hour.”

“And then what happened?”

“They shook hands and parted ways.”

“Did you follow either of them?”

“No, I didn’t. I thought it would be too risky.”

“Do you know who the man was or why John met with him?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Do you have any idea what they might have discussed?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Do you think it had anything to do with John’s disappearance?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

Donovan nodded and took out his notebook.

He wrote down some notes.

He looked at Mr. Croft again.

“Is there anything else you can tell me about John?” he asked.

“Well, there was one more thing that happened recently that might be relevant.”

“What was that?”

“The other day, he and Mr. Darcy had words.”

“Mr. Darcy?”

“Yes, he’s my partner. He and John shared some clients and projects.”

“What did they argue about?”

“I don’t know exactly. I only heard them shouting in the hallway.”

“What did they say?”

“I couldn’t catch everything, but I heard John say something like ‘You’re a liar and a thief’ and ‘You’ll pay for what you did’.”

“And what did Mr. Darcy say?”

“He said something like ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about’ and ‘You’re the one who’s in trouble’.”

“And then what happened?”

“They stopped yelling and went back to their offices. I tried to talk to them later, but they both refused to tell me what the problem was.”

“Did you notice anything else about them?”

“Yes, I did. When I saw Mr. Darcy later, he looked, well, scared.”

“S

cared?”

“Yes, he was pale and sweating and shaking. He looked like he had seen a ghost.”

“And John?”

“He looked angry and determined. He looked like he was on a mission.”

Donovan wrote down more notes.

He looked at Mr. Croft again.

“Thank you for your information, Mr. Croft,” he said.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Primrose. I hope you find John soon.”

“So do I, Mr. Croft. So do I.”

Donovan stood up and put on his coat and hat.

He shook Mr. Croft’s hand and left his office with an unexpected

lead. “Something stinks.”

Part Three: The CRA Investigator

Donovan Primrose drove to the bistro uptown where Mr. Croft had seen John meeting with a man who looked like a cop. He parked his car on the street and walked to the entrance of the bistro. He saw a sign that said, “Le Petit Bistro” and a menu that listed French dishes and wines. He opened the door and entered.

He saw a cozy and elegant place, with wooden tables and chairs, red tablecloths and napkins, candles and flowers, paintings and mirrors on the walls. He smelled garlic and butter, cheese and wine, bread and coffee. He heard soft music and chatter, clinking and clattering, laughter and sighs.

He looked around and saw a few customers sitting at different tables, enjoying their meals and drinks. He also saw a bartender behind a counter, mixing cocktails and serving beers. He saw a waiter carrying a tray of food to a table near the window.

He scanned the room for the man who looked like a cop and spotted him at a corner table, facing the door. He was wearing a dark suit and had a badge on his belt. He also had a briefcase on the floor next to him. He was looking at his watch, then at the door, then at his watch again.

He looked like he was waiting for someone.

Donovan had a hunch that he was waiting for John.

He decided to approach him.

He walked across the room, avoiding eye contact with anyone else. He reached the corner table and stood in front of the man.

The man looked up and saw him.

He frowned.

“Who are you?” he asked.

Donovan smiled.

“John won’t be meeting you this time,” he said.

The man’s frown deepened.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“He has disappeared.”

The man’s eyes widened.

“Disappeared? How? When? Where?”

Donovan shook his head.

“I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

He took out his ID card and showed it to the man.

“I’m Donovan Primrose, private eye,” he said.

The man looked at his ID card, then at his face, then at his ID card again.

He seemed surprised.

“A private eye?” he repeated.

“That’s right.”

“Who hired you?”

“His wife, Linda.”

“Linda?”

“Yes, Linda Carman. She’s worried sick about him.”

The man nodded slowly.

“I see.”

He took out his own ID card and showed it to Donovan.

“I’m Agent Galbraith, CRA investigator,” he said.

“CRA?” Donovan asked.

“Canada Revenue Agency,” the man explained.

“The taxman?”

“That’s one way to put it.”

Donovan looked at his ID card, then at his face, then at his ID card again.

He seemed intrigued.

“A CRA investigator?” he repeated.

“That’s right.”

“What were you doing with John?”

“We were working on a tax fraud case.”

 

Donovan raised his eyebrows.

“And who was committing this tax fraud?”

The man hesitated for a moment, then sighed.

“I suppose there’s no harm in telling you now,” he said.

“It was Mr. Darcy.”

“Mr. Darcy?”

“Yes, Mr. Darcy. The other partner who works at Croft & Darcy.”

Donovan nodded slowly.

“I see.”

Donovan looked at Agent Galbraith again.“And how was John involved in this case?” he asked.

“He was our informant,” Agent Galbraith said.

“Your informant?”

“Yes, our informant. He came to us three months ago and told us that Mr. Darcy was cooking the books for some of their clients. He said he had proof of his wrongdoing.”

“What kind of proof?”

“Documents, receipts, invoices, bank statements, emails, etc.”

“Where did he get them?”

“He copied them from Mr. Darcy’s office when he wasn’t looking.”

“Why did he do that?”

“He said he wanted to expose Mr. Darcy’s fraud and bring him to justice.”

“Why did he want to do that?”

“He said he hated Mr. Darcy for being a liar and a thief and for backstabbing Mr. Croft who, according to John was a good man. He didn’t want Croft getting caught up in Darcy’s scam.”

“How did he do that?”

“He said Darcy had tried to frame him for a mistake that he had made himself. He said he had blamed him for losing a big client and costing the firm a lot of money. John explained that he fixed the mistake and got the client back.”

“When did that happen?”

“About five months ago.”

“And John never forgave him?”

“No, he never forgave him. He wanted revenge.”

“So, you and John were meeting regularly to exchange information?” he asked.

“Yes, we were. We met once a week at this bistro. He gave me the evidence he had collected and I gave him some money for his trouble.”

“How much money?”

“Five hundred dollars per meeting.”

“That’s a lot of money.”

“Not for what he was risking. He was putting his life on the line.”

“Did anyone else know about your meetings?”

“No, no one else. We kept it a secret. We didn’t want to alert Mr. Darcy or anyone else who might be involved in his scheme.”

“Did you have any contact with John outside of your meetings?”

“No, we didn’t. We only communicated through burner phones that we changed every month.”

“Do you have his current phone number?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Can I have it?”

“Sure, here it is.”

He wrote down a number on a napkin and handed it to Donovan.

Donovan took the napkin and put it in his pocket.

He looked at Agent Galbraith again.

“When was the last time you saw John?” he asked.

“Last week, on Monday. We had our usual meeting here. He gave me some more documents and I gave him some more money. He seemed fine then. He didn’t say anything about being in trouble or wanting to disappear.”

“Did he say anything about Mr. Darcy?”

“Yes, he did. He said he had confronted him earlier that day and accused him of being a fraudster. He said he had threatened to expose him to the CRA and the police.”

“What did Mr. Darcy say?”

“He denied everything and called John a liar and a lunatic. He said he had nothing to do with any tax fraud and that John was the one who was in trouble.”

“What did he mean by that?”

“I don’t know. John didn’t tell me.”

“Did John seem scared or angry or anything?”

“He seemed angry and determined. He said he was not afraid of Mr. Darcy or anyone else. He said he was going to bring him down no matter what.”

“And then what happened?”

“Then we parted ways. He said he would see me next week, same time, same place.”

“And you never heard from him again?”

Galbraith nodded.

Donovan nodded back.

“Thank you for helping me out, Agent Galbraith,” he said.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Primrose. I hope you find John soon.”

“So do I, Agent Galbraith. So do I.”

Donovan stood up and put on his coat and hat.

He shook Agent Galbraith’s hand and left the table.

He had a new piece of the puzzle.

 

Part Four: The Twist Ending

Donovan Primrose drove to the office of Croft & Darcy. He parked his car in the visitor’s lot and walked to the reception desk. He showed his ID card and asked to see Mr. Darcy.

“Mr. Darcy is in his office on the fourth floor,” the receptionist said.

She tried the badge routine but Donovan waved her off. “Don’t need that,” he said and took the elevator up to the fourth floor.

 He found Mr. Darcy’s office and barged through the door.

Darcy was sitting behind his desk, with a window in the back of him. The man was in his forties, with black hair and a beard. He wore a suit and tie and glasses. He looked like a typical accountant.

“Mr. Darcy?” Donovan asked.

“Yes, that’s me,” the man said.

He looked at Donovan with curiosity.

“And you are?”

Donovan smiled.

“I’m Donovan Primrose, private eye,” he said.

He took out his ID card and showed it to the man.

“A private eye?” Mr. Darcy repeated.

“That’s right.”

“Who hired you?”

“His wife, Linda.”

“Linda?”

“Yes, Linda Carman. She’s worried sick about him.”

Mr. Darcy’s eyes widened.

“Him? Who are you talking about?”

Donovan shook his head.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Mr. Darcy. You know exactly who I’m talking about.”

He walked across the room and stood in front of Mr. Darcy’s desk.

He looked at him with accusing eyes. “I’m talking about John Carman.”

Mr. Darcy’s face turned pale.

“John Carman? What do you mean?”

Donovan slammed his fist on the desk.

“I mean that you’re responsible for his disappearance, Mr. Darcy. I mean that you’re a fraudster. I mean that you’re going to jail, Mr. Darcy.”

Mr. Darcy’s face turned red. “That’s absurd, ridiculous! Why that’s slanderous!”

He stood up and glared at Donovan.

“You have no proof of any of that!”

Donovan smiled again.

“Oh, but I do, Mr. Darcy. I have plenty of proof.”

He took out his notebook and opened it.

He showed it to Mr. Darcy.

He saw pages of notes and they all incriminated him for tax fraud.

They all implicated him in John’s disappearance.

They all exposed his scheme.

Mr. Darcy’s face turned white.

He gasped.

“Where did you get these?” he asked.

Donovan closed his notebook and put it back in his pocket.

“I got them from John,” he said.

“John? How? When? Where?”

Donovan shrugged.

“He gave them to me before he disappeared,” he said.

“He gave them to you? Why?”

Donovan nodded.

“He gave them to me because he wanted me to find him,” he said.

“He wanted you to find him? What do you mean?”

Donovan leaned closer to Mr. Darcy and whispered in his ear.

“I mean that John didn’t really disappear, Mr. Darcy. I mean that he faked his disappearance to set you up.

Mr. Darcy’s face turned purple.

He gasped again.

“What? How? Why?”

Donovan leaned back and smiled again.

“He did it because he hated you, Mr. Darcy. He did it because you tried to frame him for a mistake that you made yourself, Mr. Darcy. He did it because you ruined his reputation and his career, Mr. Darcy.”

He did it because he wanted revenge, Mr. Darcy."

Mr. Darcy shook his head.

“No! That can’t be true! That can’t be possible!”

He looked around the room as if looking for an escape route or a weapon or a witness or anything that could help him or save him or prove him innocent or make this nightmare go away or anything at all!

But there was nothing there for him.

Nothing but Donovan Primrose, Agent Galbraith, and John Carman, informant and avenger.

They all entered the room at that moment.

They all surrounded Mr. Darcy’s desk, staring at him with contempt and satisfaction.

Agent Galbraith showed his badge and said, “Mr. Darcy, you’re under arrest for tax fraud. The police will charge with kidnapping.” 

Mr. Darcy nodded weakly.

He didn’t say anything because there was nothing he could say.

Donovan Primrose said, “Case solved. Then he called Linda Carman. “I found John. He is okay.”

Silence.


 


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