Cucumber Coolie Read Online Free PDF

shake.
    The guy in the photograph, James Scotts. Belt around his neck.
    “Blake? You there?”
    James Scotts was the guy who’d pestered me for help yesterday.
    The bloke I’d turned away.

SIX
    Of all the places I expected to be today, the lost property closet at the police station definitely wasn’t one of them.
    “Swear we’ve got a VHS around here somewhere,” Lenny said.
    I sighed. Rubbed my arms and looked around the dark, grey room. It was stacked with all kinds of dated electronics. The air reeked of dust, like an old second-hand shop I used to trade unwanted gear into before I became a borderline hoarder.
    They say acceptance is the first stage of recovery.
    But acceptance didn’t stop me sticking more old electronics under the sofa, that was for sure.
    “It’s not a VHS we want,” I said. Lenny was rustling around at the other side of the room. I half-hoped the huge silver CRT television would tumble down and crush his skull, but then again I’d probably get done for murder so perhaps not.
    “Well… DVI, then. Whatever it is.”
    “DV,” I said. “We need a camcorder with a Mini DV player. Anyway, how did you watch these tapes in the first place?”
    He struggled around. Sweat coated the pits of his blue shirt.
    “It’s… We have—have equipment in the offices.”
    “So wouldn’t it be easier if you just took me through there?”
    He turned to me. Shook his head. “No, Blake. Not if I want this department taking my promotion bid seriously. Can’t be seen gallivanting around with you anymore.”
    I stepped around the lost property closet. “Gallivanting. Charming. And if someone finds us in here?”
    Lenny shrugged. “I dunno. Pretend we’re shagging in the closet or something.”
    “I’d rather not.”
    Lenny struggled around for a few more seconds.
    “A ha! Mini DV. Gotcha.”
    He pulled out a huge black camcorder that didn’t even have a brand on it. It had more wires than the underside of my computer desk.
    And the underside of my computer desk had a lot of wires.
    “Knew we had one of these things lying around,” Lenny said. He plugged in the wires, willy nilly. “The fun you can have with camcorders. Tricked my boys with one once. Went around recording them and asking them silly questions without them knowing. Hilarious, I tell you.”
    “You have kids?” I asked.
    Lenny frowned. “Why so surprised, Blakey? Not all of us are commitmentphiles like you.”
    I shook my head. “Commitment phobes . Philes sounds like pedophiles or something like that. No I… I dunno. I just guess I never had you down as the… as the ‘dad’ type.”
    Lenny opened up the camcorder. Stuck the first of the Mini DV tapes inside. “Yeah, well. Every box of chocolates has a surprise.”
    “I’m not sure that’s the right metaphor.”
    “Whatever. Do you want to see this or what?”
    I stepped closer to the camcorder. Truth was, I didn’t really want to see the tape. Lenny had told me that a guy called James Scotts was found with a belt around his neck this morning. In his possession, he had these two tapes, as well as a letter.
    Oh, and James Scotts was the guy who’d pestered me for help yesterday. The guy I’d told to get stuffed. There was that, too.
    I figured at least a passing interest in the circumstances of his death might make me feel a little less guilty. Might make me realise there was nothing I could’ve done for him regardless.
    “This is the letter Mr. Scotts received,” Lenny said.
    He handed me a crumpled envelope.
    Inside, there was just one sheet of paper. A red stain rested in the top right corner.
    And on the paper, there was a note written in handwriting.
    I have your wife.
    I will kill her in twenty-four hours if you do not save her.
    If you go to the police, I will kill her.
    I am making her life a misery. I am torturing her.
    I will torture her even more if you do anything stupid.
    Twenty-four hours started at 1a.m.
    Look around.
    The route is nearby.
    Use your