Colin Mochrie sat on his bunk and scanned the sleeper. He didn’t know how he felt. Wayne’s decision to shake things up had left Colin in two minds. One was glad he was finally alone, but the other was feeling a bit lonely. At that moment he would have enjoyed a tirade from Ryan about how he couldn’t fit in the bunks.

Colin decided to explore the sleeper a bit more. Surprisingly he found a crumpled paperback jammed down the side of the bunk. It was 50s detective novel.

He decided that it was at least something to do and got himself comfy on his bunk and began to read… <>

Harry Durrell (Colin) sauntered into his New York office. He removed his long duffle coat and hat and placed them on the stand near his desk.

Durrell took a seat at his desk, kicked his feet up on the table and lit a cigar. He loved the first cigar of the morning.

A young woman (Wayne) suddenly burst into his office sobbing, She had a figure hugging, fur-lined red coat and a mass of long blonde hair.

Durrell shot to his feet. “What’s happened?”

“Oh Mr Durrell, it’s my husband,” the woman cried.

“Is he cheating?” Durrell asked.

“No, my darling husband would never do that. He’s missing,” snapped the woman.

“So he is cheating,” Durrell sighed.

“You don’t understand – he’s Erwin Matthiessen.…”

“The rich antique collector?” Durrell breathed.

“That’s right. He recently bought some precious Egyptian artifacts. He had to bid against that evil, evil, wealthy thug Cecil Montague. I know he’s got something to do with it, I just know it,” the woman squealed.

Durrell walked over to the woman and put his hands on her upper arms to comfort her. “I promise you, Mrs Matthiessen, that I will do everything in my power to get your husband back.”

“Please, call me Fifi.”

“Of course. Now you go home, Mrs Matt…Fifi, and I’ll call you when I get some news,” Durrell soothed.

“Oh thank you, thank you,” Fifi cooed and planted a soft kiss on Durrell’s cheek before she gave him a weak smile and left.

In the large Montague Mansion, Erwin Matthiessen (Drew) sat tied to a chair while wealthy madman Cecil Montague (Greg) circled him.

“Where are the Egyptian artifacts, Matthiessen?” Montague hissed.

“I won’t tell you anything, Montague,” Matthiessen snapped.

“Oh, I have ways of making you talk. BOORSTIN,” Montague hollered.

Boorstin (Brad), Cecil Montague’s heavy, entered the room.

“Yes boss,” he perked.

“Slap this man around for me,” Montague ordered.

Boorstin obliged and gave Matthiessen several hefty slaps around the face. Matthiessen’s glasses flew across the floor.

“I still won’t tell you anything,” Matthiessen growled.

Montague cackled, “We’ll see.”

“Where are we heading sir?” asked Clement Burroughs (Ryan), Durrell’s business partner.

“I want to speak to Tallulah Rhee,” Durrell replied.

“Montague’s fiancée,” gasped Burroughs.

“The one and only. Word has it she’s been outta town for a while,” Durrell said matter-of-factly.

“You think she’s been at Montague’s?” Burroughs queried.

“Sometimes your intelligence frightens me,” Durrell said sarcastically.

“Sir, no offense, but you have taken every available opportunity to see Miss Rhee since she left you for Montague,” Burroughs scorned.

“She’s a common little jezebel,” Durrell hissed.

“It wasn’t so long ago you were buying her chocolates and roses,” Burroughs continued.

“Jezebel,” Durrell muttered.

Tallulah Rhee (Chip) was walking, unaware, toward her apartment when Durrell grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him.

“Tallulah,” he breathed.

“Harry,” she scorned, pulled herself free and crossed her arms. “Oh, and his lap dog,” she added as she noticed Burroughs.

Burroughs waved.

“What do you want, Harry?” Rhee asked.

“I want to know about Montague,” Durrell demanded.

“Oh, what’s new, honey,” Rhee sighed.

“Look Tallulah, there’s the possibility he’s holding a man hostage,” Durrell snapped.

“And what? You think I’m in on it? How original, Harry,” Rhee retorted and turned to unlock her apartment door.

“Tallulah, please,” Durrell said, softening his voice. “I need your help.”

“I’ll think about it, Harry,” Rhee said quietly, stepped into her apartment and closed the door.

“Well that was subtle,” Burroughs mused.

“Shut up, Clement,” Durrell cussed.

“Well, we can all see why she left you,” Burroughs scorned, turned and made his way down the hall.

Durrell pulled his coat tighter around himself and then followed.

Erwin Matthiessen, now battered and bruised, had kept his word and not told Montague anything about the whereabouts of the Egyptian artifacts.

Montague led Boorstin out of the room and into his study.

“I don’t know what to do, Boorstin…the cad won’t talk,” Montague hissed.

“I could slap him around some more,” Boorstin offered.

“Thank you Boorstin, but I think rendering the man comatose would make getting information a tad more difficult,” Montague said sarcastically. “No, we need something far more devious…. I’VE GOT IT! We’ll kidnap his wife. Why didn’t I think of it before?”

“Shall I get the car, boss?” Boorstin smiled.

“Yes Boorstin, and some rope,” Montague nodded.

Boorstin left and Montague sat, wringing his hands and grinning. “Soon I shall have those artifacts and I can sell them for lots of money.” He then cackled for effect.

Durrell sat at his desk and fiddled with a cigar. Why couldn’t he figure out what Montague was playing at, why would he want Egyptian artifacts, and where was Burroughs with his dinner.

Durrell’s irrational thoughts were interrupted by Fifi Matthiessen gliding into the room.

“Fifi, what are you doing here?” Durrell asked, getting to his feet and approaching her.

“I couldn’t wait for you to call me, I had to know if you’d found out anything,” Fifi sobbed.

“It’s still early days…”

“It’s Montague though, isn’t it,” Fifi announced, cutting Durrell off.

“I can’t say for sure, but yes,” Durrell nodded.

“Oh Mr Durrell, I miss my husband so much I don’t know what to do,” Fifi cried and flung herself into Durrell’s arms.

Durrell stroked her soft hair. “Don’t worry, I’ll look after you until your husband is safe.”

Fifi looked up and into Durrell’s eyes. He knew it was wrong. She was a married woman and he was searching for her husband. But he had to kiss her, just once….

“COLIN, WAKE UP.”

Colin jumped a mile and his eyes sprung open. Ryan was standing there with a blanket wrapped around him.

“Ryan, what the hell are you doing?” Colin panted.

“I can’t sleep. Hey, what you reading?” Ryan mused, picking up the book.

“It’s a detective novel. Did I fall asleep?” Colin asked.

“Unless you were reading with your eyes closed,” Ryan smiled.

Colin took several deep breaths and tried to block the full extent of his dream from memory.