by Andrew Learmonth
“Who the hell are you?” asked Donny Hosking.
“Just an amateur detective” I said. I stood confident and looked him in the eyes. Even though I was completely shiteing it, I had once read in a book that looking someone confidently in the eyes and speaking confidently could confuse people into thinking that you were cleverer and better than you are.
“You’re a fucking ghoul aren’t you. I’m going to beat the shit out of you”
Hosking took a step towards me.
“Do something” shouted God.
“I know it was you Donny. I know you killed Robert Radcliffe.”
“What? You know nothing”
“You were jealous of his success. You knew that if you killed Robert Radcliffe then you would be able to take over as one of Glasgow’s top Michael Bublé tribute acts.”
“What? You call yourself a detective. Get out”
“I’ve already told other people” I lied. “I’ve emailed my contact. If anything happens to me then he’ll go straight to the police”.
“You idiot. You know nothing. Look at these pictures. Look at them.”
I looked. And then I noticed that actually they weren’t all the same Michael Bublé lookalike. Unmistakably, there on the sideboard was a picture of Donny Hoskings.
“Wait. Why would he have a picture of you on his sideboard?”
“Why would anyone have a picture of another man on their sideboard?” said God.
“Lovers.” I looked at Donny Hoskings, “You and Robert Radcliffe were lovers?”
“He was my life partner and now he’s gone.” Hoskings broke down. “Somebody’s taken him.”
“But why have the police not taken this seriously?”
“He was a Michael Buble tribute act you idiot The police don’t care about the life of one Michale Buble tribute act”
“But you’re a police officer. You should do something”
“Those idiots will just come to the same conclusion you did. They didn’t know Robert and I were lovers. You need to leave. “
“I can help”
“Can you fuck.”
Hoskings sighed. “Listen, I appreciate your concern. You’ve cared but you don’t know what you’re doing. I need to find out what’s happened and why it’s happened. You’ll just get in the way.”
Hosking’s phone started to ring. He looked at it and looked at us and walked away into the hall.
I turned to God and asked for guidance.
“I don’t know Andrew. We should probably go back to the flat and think this over.”
We walked towards the front door. I gave Hosking a little wave. He made a motion for me to stay where I am. He said bye to the person on the phone and came up to me. His Buble like features were only inches away from me.
“There’s been another one.”
“In Stockholm. The number two Swedish Miley Cyrus tribute act has been found with her head caved in. There are also reports from Beijing of the top Chinese Katie Melua has been missing for four days now. Police are fearing the worst.”
I looked at him aghast. Then I looked at God aghast.
“Something’s not right.”