The Adventures of Don Dingo (even more added)

[Shadow]

Las Vegas

Sat on a large comfortable bed in a white robe, he had found in the bathroom Don Dingo was sat eating a box of complimentary chocolates. He'd had a shower and was now waiting for Jason to come back from checking out if John Kay was staying at Cesar's Palace.

He thought that this room was great. It was so large and spacious with loads of little gadgets laying about; coffee machine,hair dryer,electric tin can opener, even a big box of complimentary chocolates that he was taking the pleasure in eating. It sure beat being sat in that basement.

The door went and Jason came back into the room. Dingo hoped that John was staying in this casino or he could not do anything to help the guy.

"Is he staying here?" Dingo asked.

"He is room fifty two on the third floor," replied Jason giving Dingo a scowl.

Dingo had no idea what he was scowling at. "You get a lot of complimentary chocolates," said Dingo ignoring Jason's scowl.

"They are not complimentary chocolates," grumbled Jason.

Dingo swallowed the chocolate he had just been eating then held the box of chocolates out to Jason, gave it a shake. Offering Jason one of his own chocolates.

"No thanks Don Dingo. You can keep them. Looks like you're enjoying them," said Jason as he took a seat on a chair at a table.

"So how did you know I was here?" Dingo asked getting up off the bed and sitting opposite Jason at the table.

"I was just looking out for my taxi having just gotten my luggage. Feeling a bit myth-ed at you running off with not so much as a goodbye. There's my taxi I put the luggage into the boot. After I do that I see that guy that was giving you a hard time on the plane. See you fly across the car park with him chasing after you. I was going to come help you but then I see he's got two other guys with him. Instead I just stand and watch reckon I could phone the police or something if it gets out of hand."

"So you know what happens you start using your fists you get caught. I get out my phone to call the police but it's too late for that. By time I find my phone they're putting you in the boot. I panic jump in the the taxi and take off without the taxi driver. Follow you all the way down. I think the taxi driver understood he saw it to. I drive all the way down to Vegas after you. Get here follow those crooks until I know where they've put you. When I know I book myself a room and then wait at a slot machine near the basement door until the coast is clear and now here we are. I been playing that slot machine for hours it sent me crazy," explained Jason.

Dingo felt really greatful having Jason coming after him like that. They hardly knew each other. In fact they were pretty much strangers. Had only played a few card games together. "Thanks I appreciate it. Hey did you win anything on that slot machine?" said Dingo.

Jason gave his head a shake and got up to go make himself a coffee. He sure did need one after the day he'd just had. It did not look like his hard day was over either. There went the ring of his phone. He had a good idea of who that would be.

Dingo listened to Jason mumbling down the phone and heard an angry voice coming from the other end. Jason even had to hold the phone away from his ear it was that loud.

"I sent you to represent my company even paid for your flight and accommodation! Give you all that and you did not even bother to turn up at the presentation. Thanks to you the company's going to lose thousands! You're fired!!" the voice screamed down the phone.

Jason threw the phone down on the kitchen unit as though it was a deadly snake. Dingo walked over to the phone and picked it up feeling he owed Jason one.

"Excuse me Jay has good reason to miss your stupid presentation. He saved a life today. I think that means more than a bit of cash.," shouted Dingo even louder than Jason's boss.

"Who is this?" asked Jason's boss.

"Don Dingo. And Jay hated your job. In fact he says he quits and you can shove the job and suit that goes with it where the sun don't shine. Now if you don't mind moneybags I got some of my own business to sort out," said Dingo and then blew a raspberry down the phone before putting it down. "There you go Jay I think he got the message," grinned Dingo giving Jason his phone.

Jason fell into a chair looking extremely pale. Dingo gave him a friendly smile and went to finish making the coffee that Jason had started to make. Made it strong and gave it to Jason. In his opinion Jason worried too much.

"I lost my job," groaned Jason.

"You'll get another," Dingo said brightly.

"I don't think you understand I lost my job. Do you know how long it took me to get that job, how hard I worked for it?"

"Pretty hard I'm guessing. If you're that good at it you'll get another job an even better one with a cooler boss," winked Dingo.

Dingo leaned back in his chair as Jason suddenly got all fiery and sounded angry at him. "Don't you go winking at me like that! This is your fault for getting in a mess Don Dingo. Why the heck did I ever go after you? I must have been crazy, I've lost out on millions. And my friends what will my friends say?"

"Not a lot if they're good friends. Is a person's life not more important than cash?" Dingo commented sounding rather cocky as usual.

Jason snapped. Dingo was getting extremely irritating and was beginning to frustrate him. "Just shut up. You are more trouble than I thought you were. Shut up right now!" Jason yelled.

That was enough of that. Dingo knew when he was not wanted. If Jason felt that way he was off. First he needed to get changed; that he did in the bathroom where he had left his clothes. When dressed in his light blue jeans, red t shirt and orange bandanna he left the room with a stroppy Jason sat in it.

Only when he reached the elevator did he realize he was wearing no shoes. Never mind he would have to do without until he found a shoe shop. He called the lift and waited for it to come. While he was in Cesar's Palace he may as well do some gambling. You did not go all the way to Vegas and not have a go on the slots.

When the elevator came he made to step inside but almost jumped out of his skin; there was Dragon stood in that very elevator not looking too happy. Hiding a gulp Dingo quickly backed away from the elevator and sprinted in his bare feet to the stair well. Hoping that he had not been seen by Dragon. It sounded as though he had, there were heavy footsteps behind him as he bounded down the stairs. Bearing this in mind he took the steps two at a time. Once in the casino area he would be safe. It was full of security in there; no way could Dragon touch him while in the casino.

Successfully Dingo made it to the casino. That was a huge weight lifted off his shoulders. He waded into the busy casino and went to search for somewhere he could trade his money for some chips.

"That'll be twenty dollars please," said the person behind the booth that was selling the chips.

Dingo dug his hand into his jeans pocket, he dug his hands in both his jeans pockets. His wallet was no longer there. Dragon must have stolen it.

"Problem?" asked the person.

"Yeah my wallets gone," replied Dingo he pulled out a slip of paper and smiled at it. "Still got my number from the air hostess though," he laughed. There was a spot of good news.

If he could not enjoy gambling he would just have to watch everyone else doing it. He wandered round in a daze looking at all the bright lights and card tables. Saw a guy jumping up and down because he'd won quite a large sum of money; Dingo wished that was him. He was good at poker could win easy. When his feet started to ache he stopped walking and stood still and observed a game of roulette. As the ball span round inside the roulette table he shivered as someone gripped hold of his shoulder. Having a feeling that was Dragon, it best not be or he was in trouble.

"What are you doing?" asked Jason giving him a little shake.

"Oh it's just you," Dingo sighed in relief. "I'm watching this game of roulette," he said brightly in answer to Jason's question.

"Get out of here Dingo. Those crooks want you dead. I don't want that," said Jason sounding worried looking round for signs of Dragon.

"I didn't know you cared so much Jay. Look it's fine. There's security all over the place," Dingo said waving a hand in the direction of a passing security guard.

"I did not chase you down that stair well for nothing," chived Jason.

"Oh that was you was it. I thought it was Dragon," laughed Dingo now keeping his eyes on the roulette table.

"Dragon who has a name like Dragon?" Jason mustered.

"It's a code name I suspect. A big game thug like him don't want to use his real name now does he?" Dingo explained.

"Are you going or what?" Jason asked sounding all serious and stern.

Dingo turned his head from the game of roulette; looked at Jason's hardened expression which was telling him to do as he was told then pulled the sweetest smile he could produced. "Can't we play a few tables?" Dingo asked sounding as sweet as his smile looked.

"I am not gambling and you are not allowed. You are not twenty one yet are you?" Jason said.

"I'm legal to gamble in England," whispered Dingo not wanting any passers by to hear he was under aged.

"We're not in England. Why you asking my permission anyway? you'll just go your own sweet way no matter what I say."

"My wallet's stolen," said Dingo. Then he made his eyes go all glassy. "Please, pretty please Jay."

Dingo had succeeded in getting some chips. Jason could not resist but buy them him after his theatrical watery eye trick. He enjoyed playing some poker and even persuaded Jason into playing a couple of games.

They did have lots of fun even though Jason denied enjoying what they were doing. Even still Dingo managed to win a fair amount on a game of poker and when they went to cash up he paid back what Jason had given him in the first place.

"Are you done now?" Jason asked after they had cashed in their chips.

"Yeah I'm done," said Dingo as he crammed his winnings into his pocket.

"Good then we can leave," Jason said as he headed to the elevators.

Dingo gave him a wave and made to go have a proper look round. Maybe there would be a show on or something. Only he heard Jason call over to him from the elevator. "What size shoe are you?"

Dingo stared down at his bare feet, surprised no one had kicked him out of the casino by now. "Seven," Dingo called back.

"I think I might be able to help you out," Jason said not liking to see Dingo go off on his own in the casino.

Happy at the gesture Jason was making he went over to the elevators and stood with him. It looked like he had some company whilst he was in Vegas. That was good, there was nothing worse than being in a room packed full of people while you were the only one alone, or so it felt.

[Chris]

I'm not too sure about this, being a fairly new mod and all, but I believe you're supposed to post new chapters of the same story in the same thread, yes?

Anyway, I again wanted you to know that I've read it all, and I will post a review when you've completed it. Keep up the hard work.

[Shadow]

OK thanks. I'll post the rest of the chapters in just this thread

[Shadow]

Chapter 4: Clash Of Character

Dingo sat on the edge of a chair staring down at the white puma trainers Jason had given him; not his taste in footwear at all. It had either been them or some business like shoes that would probably nip at his toes.

"Don't you have any converse?" Dingo asked for the second time in ten minutes.

"No I do not. Be grateful for what I have given you," replied Jason who was growing irritated by Dingo already. To try and not get so heated up he changed the conversation from footwear. "Those thugs did not take your passport did they?" Jason asked sounding serious as usual.

"No they didn't I did not leave that lying round in my jeans pocket," Dingo grinned as he pulled out his passport and set of car keys from a secret pocket inside the inside of his t shirt. He had made that pocket himself. Always kept his passport there when traveling long distances.

"You're mad Don Dingo," Jason stated.

"And you're the most mature person I ever met. All my friends are party animals," Dingo said as he slipped his passport and keys back inside the secret pocket.

Dingo watched as Jason went to go have a lie down on the bed. This sure was going to be boring. How could Jason sleep when they were in Las Vegas? He did not know and could not be bothered to ask. Instead he snooped around Jason's suitcase. He thought Jason had a boring taste in clothing. Mainly had formal suits and white shirts. He came across the odd t shirt which had some colour on it, not much colour at that pale blues and reds that was it. Amongst the clothes lay a posh looking fountain pen and hardback notebook. Thinking it was no big deal Dingo reached out and took the notepad and pen, took them over to the table.

Once sat at the table he flicked through some of the notepads pages. There were a lot of statistics and boring old pieces of what appeared to be accountancy information wrote neatly across the pages. Feeling bored he found a clean page and began to write. There were hours to kill before he could go catch Dragon's accomplice Gary unawares. Until then he could sit and write in this notepad.

"What are you doing?" Jason roared when he woke up and saw Dingo using his notepad.

"Writing obviously," Dingo said making no reaction to Jason's shouting.

"That is my work!" yelled Jason.

"You're fired. I doubt these notes are needed anymore," said Dingo casually, hiding a giggle.

"Stop it! Stop doodling in my notebook," shouted Jason.

"You don't need it anymore," teased Dingo as he wrote one final word then put down the pen.

"That still gives you no right to go through my things and write in my notebook..... you you you have been through my suitcase," shouted Jason not believing the nerve this guy had.

"I got bored," Dingo said as he tore out Jason's notes. He went over to Jason and passed him the notes, even gave him a pat on the shoulder. He saw Jason gorping at him in astonishment then stared down at his notes and then at his notebook which he had claimed as his own. "Good paper," commented Dingo in his cheeky tone.

Dingo thought he had better try make Jason chill before he got too angry with him. He knew his cheekiness got on peoples' nerves sometimes well a lot of time, so should make up for it. Show Jason he did not mean no harm.

"You got any numbers for pizza places?" Dingo asked as he picked up the receiver of the phone which was on a bedside table. Jason handed him a few menus which were on the table while still staring absent minded at the notes Dingo had tore out of his notebook.

"This place looks good," smiled Dingo as he unfolded a brightly coloured menu. "What do you want Jay? Anything you like it's on me." Jason did not answer he was still sulking over his notebook. So Dingo just dialed the number and ordered some food. "Right I'd like a large deep pan with everything on it. A medium margarita and garlic bread. Two portions of fries and bottle of cola oh and your largest tub of choccy ice cream," Dingo said putting on his best American accent. "That's to Cesar's Palace room eighty five," added Dingo then put down the phone and went to sit opposite Jason.

"Hell I'm sorry about your little old notepad," Dingo said still in the American accent trying to sound like a cowboy now. He was only doing it to try cheer Jason up because he could see that he had upset him.

"Forget about it," murmured Jason who could not be bothered with Dingo anymore. All he did was play the fool, he was still at it with the stupid fake accent.

"No I really am sorry. I shouldn't go through your gear without asking. It's just I wouldn't mind you going through my stuff; if I had any with me that is. I should stop being a pest when you let me stay with you," apologized Dingo dropping the accent.

"Forget about it," repeated Jason.

"You sure?" asked Dingo. Jason gave him a nod and screwed up the notes in his hands and aimed the crumpled up notes at a small bin, which was sat in the kitchen area. "Good shot," smiled Dingo as the ball of paper landed neatly in the bin.

"I don't need them you are right. I'm just bitter about," Jason started but did not finish because a knock at the door disturbed him.

Dingo enthusiastically got up and went to go answer the door. That sure was fast service. Jason was glaring at all the boxes of food; how much did they need? He had to go help Dingo pay because by the time he had all the food piled in his arms he could not reach the money in his jeans pocket.

Awkwardly Jason went inside Dingo's jeans pocket and drew out twenty five dollars to pay the pizza girl with.

"How much are you planning to eat?" Jason asked as Dingo dumped the food on the table.

"I dunno. You didn't tell me what you wanted so I got a bit of everything," shrugged Dingo.

Feeling as hungry as a starved dog Dingo flipped open the box of pizza that had everything on it. He munched on it happily and laughed at Jason who was nibbling at some chips.

"Help me out here," Dingo said through a mouthful of pizza and thrust a slice into Jason's hand. "Ew peppers," Dingo choked and spat out a pepper onto the table. "I said a bit of everything not peppers. Who likes peppers?"

Jason actually laughed. He could have some fun and let himself go if he wanted to. "I like peppers"

"Great you can eat them then," Dingo said as he picked the peppers off his pizza and put them beside Jason.

Jason was really quite a fun person once he let himself go. Dingo scoffed a lot of everything and almost vomited when it came to the ice cream. He had Jason give him a whack on the back to help it go down. After choking and almost being sick he slouched down on his chair, only to sit bolt up right again and peer at the time on Jason's watch.

It was eleven thirty, that meant time to go help John Kay out before Gary and Stella got to him. "Right Jay time I made a move. Thanks for letting me hang with you. I'll leave you to tidy up this mess."

"What do you think you are doing?" Jason grumbled holding the door shut.

"Going to help John," Dingo replied in a matter of fact tone.

Jason took out his mobile phone and waved it in front of Dingo's face. Only to have Dingo push it away. "Ring the police you are out of your depth," Jason shouted in desperation.

"I got this covered. Don't you worry I know what I am doing," Dingo insisted giving the door a slight push.

"They kidnapped you! They are not common thugs," Jason tried hammering that fact into the stubborn big headed mystery solver.

"I know you've told me that already," Dingo said as he prised Jason's hand away from the door and managed to push it open. "I'll be fine you'll see," Dingo smiled as he walked down the corridor and over to the stair well.

Halfway down the stairs and Dingo let out a heavy sigh. What did Jason want now? He carried on walking, even picked the pace up a little in hope that Jason would give up and go worry over something else. Not happening; Jason jogged to catch him up.

"Now what?" Dingo groaned.

"If you're adamant on going then I will go with you as a precaution," Jason said not sounding the best of pleased.

Dingo dug his hands in his pockets. He always worked a lone; it felt a little odd having someone tag along. Why was Jason so worried about him? There was nothing to worry about, all he had to do was go capture the criminals as usual.

"How can you help me?" Dingo asked eying Jason as they walked down the stairwell side by side.

"I have my phone," Jason said.

"I have mine.......no I don't," Dingo laughed weakly. It felt like Dragon had stolen his mobile as well. "I suppose you might have your uses. Why so bothered about me anyhow?"

"I saved you from being kidnapped; I don't know, there's a sort of loyal bond there. Besides you are in all the newspapers; been on the news as well," replied Jason.

"Am I? Cool. I wouldn't know. I bearly ever pick up a paper or flick to the news."

"You're a weird type of detective; not bothered in the news," commented Jason as they reached the bottom step of that part of the stairwell.

"I know I am," smiled Dingo as he went onto the corridor and looked for John's room. There it was number fifty two. He gestured at Jason to follow him.

[Shadow]

Chapter 5: Taming A Dragon

Dingo put his ear to the door. It did not sound like Dragon's cronies were there yet. That was great, he could go on in there and catch them unawares.

"John. Is there a John in this room?" Dingo asked as he knocked on the door.

"What do you want? Is it room service?" an American voice called in reply.

"Yeah if you like," Dingo smirked, his smirk from the serious look on Jason's face; that man did not agree with his methods at all.

The door opened and a young man looked out at him: he had dreadlocks and was wearing cool black shades, ripped jeans and an Iron Maiden t shirt. He looked like a rock star, which was Don Dingo's kind of person.

"You don't look much like a room service guy," John said carelessly.

"That's 'cause I'm not," Dingo said pushing his way into John's room; Jason followed in shyly after him.

"What is the meaning of this?" snorted John.

"Your life," replied Dingo.

"What you babbling on about? Get outta my room before I chuck you out!" shouted John.

"Good idea! Jay, take John back to your room. That way he won't get shot," Dingo said.

"Bad idea if you're not coming," pointed out Jason.

"You said you wanted to help me, so help," Dingo said.

"It's Johnny! What the hells going off bozo's?" John shouted, he was starting to get frustrated.

Dingo gave John a pat on the shoulder and walked up to his table which had a glass of martini sat upon it. He took the martini and casually threw it down his neck; much to John's distaste. John actually went up to him and slapped him round the back of his head.

"What about my life? I'll phone the cops," threatened John.

"Good idea," Jason sighed gratefully.

"No don't do that!" Dingo yelped. "Let me explain. My name is Don Dingo a mystery detective solver," Dingo finally introduced himself. He put down his glass and went up to John. "And you my friend are in grave danger. A guy called Dragon has sent his cronies after you. They'll be here in er...," he said looking round the room for the time. He saw that Jason was wearing a posh roulex watch. "Two minutes," he smiled, looking over at the watch face.

"This sounds like something out of a damn story book," laughed John not taking Dingo seriously at all.

"Life is a story Johnny. One that goes on forever. Now quickly do you know of a Stella or Gary?"

"Stella yeah sure she's my groupie," John said proudly. He noticed Dingo purely for his appearance just then. "Do you play drums? I need a new drummer. You look like the kind a guy who is into bands."

"Sorry mate guitarist," said Dingo.

"You two this is serious," groaned Jason looking anxiously over at the open door. Neither of them seemed to care that two people were going to be coming, to perform an assassination.

"How about your sidekick? we could use a posh guy. You always need someone to be posh in a band," John asked looking Jason over.

"He's not my sidekick!" Dingo stated quickly letting out a snort; then turned back to the reason he was there. "I dunno who this Stella is but go get gone with Jay," Dingo instructed.

"No. You're nuts," John grumbled wishing the detective and his friend would leave him be.

"He is. I am phoning the police," Jason said taking out his phone, and he dialed nine one one.

Dingo was not so bothered; fine Jason could phone the police for all he cared, they would never make it to the casino in time.

He drew away from Jason who was muttering worriedly down his phone, and John who was stood listening not understanding what was happening.

Dingo had a hunch. It was probably something to do with drugs if it involved a groupie from a band. John did not seem like one to get involved with dirty dealings; he was guessing Stella his groupie had somehow set him up.

He could hear footsteps coming down the corridor. He went over to the door and took a sneaky peak round it. There was a young lady who certainly did look drugged up to the eyeballs. She had panda eyes and was giving Gary hell; calling him a wimp by the sounds of it. Stella's heels were clacking on the polished wooden floor, she almost tripped up a couple of times (the drugs again).

This should not be too difficult; she was not in control and her associate looked too afraid to carry out anything major.

Dingo turned to Jason and John, putting a finger on his lips, signaling for them to be quiet. Jason dropped his phone in panic, John pulled up his top lip in confusion.

"Get behind the bed," whispered Dingo sounding deadly serious.

"You what?" harked John.

"You heard. And be quiet. You too, Jay," Dingo instructed. Somehow he sounded so strict about it the pair of them did not dare argue.

Happy that John and Jason were hidden from sight when you walked into the room he stood behind the door and waited.

He was not waiting too long. Stella pranced into the room with Gary scuttling after her.

"You got the right room?" Stella said in a husky voice.

"Yeah fifty eight just what Dragon told me," Gary insisted. "Maybe he went out."

"A fella don't go out and leave his door open," Stella said.

"Maybe I should close it then," Dingo said coolly as he closed the door.

Stella drew a pistol from out of her jeans pocket and pointed it directly at Dingo's head; she gave the trigger a squeeze.

"No Stella that's not him!" Gary shouted.

"I know. Even still he'll know," Stella shouted back her face going red.

"Bitch!" John screamed, leaping over the bed and bowling Gary aside.

Stella spun round and pointed the gun at John instead. "Don't you bitch me you brute!"

"You're on them again. I told you to stop, you promised me you had," John said trying to calm himself down. Stella only laughed at him, she was ready to kill.

Dingo saw this and quickly pushed Stella to the floor. There was a loud bang, John screamed and a bullet skimmed a chair leg. He heard Jason panting, the guy was still behind the bed.

"Calm down Stella," Dingo said softly and knelt down beside her. "You don't have to be this way. There's places that can help." Stella looked into his crystal blue eyes for a moment, he thought he was talking her around. Then she looked passed his eyes and saw Gary. He felt a barrel of a gun against his head. "Put the gun down. At least away from my head. I got brains don't blow them," Dingo said arrogantly, sounding his absolute best not to sound scared.

He felt the barrel of the gun slip away from his head and watched as Stella threw the pistol to Gary.

"Go on do it! We gotta; Dragon said so," Stella yelled aggressively at him.

Gary stood with the gun pointed directly at John's face. The gun shook wildly in his hands as he attempted to pull the trigger. This was weakness, Dingo saw it. Cautiously he rose up from the floor.

"Make him drop it!" yelled John in a frenzy.

Dingo ignored John's yells and of course Jason's pathetic whimpering; what he had to do was concentrate on Gary, talk him round.

"You should do it, just think he'd be gone you would not have Dragon breathing down the back of your neck, invading your dreams," Dingo half whispered darkly in Gary's ear. John stared at him in terror thinking that he Don Dingo was in on the plot. Dingo waited a second while Gary began to squeeze on the trigger. "Or you could live with the guilt. Have death on your conscience forever. Never would you feel clean, always dirty. Sure the police might catch you but your mind will be at peace. Might even get the charge lowered."

The gun clattered to the floor. As soon as it hit the soft cream carpet Dingo scooped it up, and put a hand on a shaky John's shoulder.

"Go sit down. The police will be here in a minute, just tell them what happened Johnny," Dingo said gently as he pushed John onto the bed.

He turned sharply to Gary, pointing the gun at him. "You're taking me to the Dragon. No tricks Gary," Dingo said. Gary gave him a slight nod, looking rather green.

"And you Jay I think it is time we parted. Thanks for the trainers and the help with the kidnapping," he smiled. "And Stella do what you will but I can hear the police coming."

Quickly Dingo pushed the pistol up his sleeve and slipped out of the room with Gary. He had Gary run with him to an elevator before the police even noticed them.

"Now you going to play it straight?" Dingo asked Gary in the empty elevator. Gary let out a shrug, Don knew Gary did not trust him. "Look you're stuck in a rut right? I can help you if you help me," Dingo said.

"How?" mumbled Gary.

"You take me to Dragon I let you go free, no police, no nothing, you can walk," Dingo offered.

"Why'd you do that for me?" asked Gary sounding unsure.

"It's your eyes. You look innocent enough, you don't do drugs or nothing; just got caught up in this 'cause of Stella. Am I right?" Dingo explained.

"True!" gasped Gary, "how you know?"

"It's all in your actions and eyes. Now do we have a deal?" Dingo asked holding out his hand.

"You promise?"

"With all my heart," Dingo smiled. They shook hands just as the elevator came to a halt on the ground floor.

"I'll take you to him but you'll need a helmet. You can have Stella's I guess," said Gary.

"We taking a motor bike?" Dingo asked enthusiastically.

"A Harley," Gary actually half smiled.

That was the way to travel; a Harley Davidson flying down the road. That part Dingo was looking forward to. They walked out of the elevator and crossed the main reception. Dingo instinctively gave a receptionist a sly wink as he went by. Gary let out a laugh after seeing his actions, this guy was much more fun than Jason had been. In fact he was bearly missing Jason, that man sure had worried too much for his liking.

As they excited the casino the moon hit Dingo's eyes. Gary walked him over to a parking lot whilst he explained where they were going. Gary it appeared was supposed to meeting Dragon a lone at Roger Springs when the deed had been done, to collect his pay; which was very much for murder or so Dingo thought. Gary must really have been desperate to even think of doing such a violent act for a meager fifty bucks.

"Why do it? I mean think about doing it?" Dingo asked as he observed the beautiful Harley Davidson; he would buy one of his own if he did not live in England. Harley's certainly were not made for English roads.

"Dragon would kill me if I didn't. Then again maybe that's a good thing," Gary murmured.

"No it wouldn't. I will not let him touch you. He'll be behind bars come breakfast," Dingo said kindly.

"Thanks Don. Sorry I threw you in the boot," apologized Gary.

"That was you was it? Well forget about it. Clean slate yeah?" blinked Dingo a little taken a back that it had been Gary who had helped kidnap him. Taken a back but not surprised.

Gary threw him a helmet which he successfully caught. He threw the helmet back at Gary and they started to have a throwing and catching game. Yes Gary was defiantly on his level. He was not such a bad person either.

When they tired of their game Gary climbed up onto the Harley. Dingo got on behind him. Buckling up the clasp on his helmet as he did so. He wished that he could ride without a helmet, that would be so cool. Best not do that in America, even the most known detectives could not go braking the law just a little.

The engine rumbled and they were off. Flew out of the parking lot and rode by all the lit up casinos. Dingo watched happily as all the many different coloured lights went by. Laughed when he saw a man dressed up as Elvis dancing about; he danced too roughly and his wig fell off.

Dingo was enjoying the warm night air. The moon and stars were shining even more magnificently than the casino lights. He did not even need to hold onto Gary as they drove through the night, he had perfect balance, with his back leaned up against the back rest.

Gary drove at full throttle just the way Dingo liked it. They got away from all the casinos and were on a dusty road that stretched for miles. Still Gary went fast; so the dust aculimated behind them. It would have been a better in the daylight with the sun shining down on top of you but never mind that, at least it was not too hot.

There was no need for conversation as the bike made too much noise for them to have any. Instead Dingo entertained himself by watching the amazing formations of rock go by.

They had been traveling for a while and Gary was slowing down; Dingo guessed they must nearly be at Roger Springs. He gave Gary a tap on the shoulder, signaling for him to stop.

"What?" Gary asked as they pulled up at the side of the dusty road.

"We're nearly there. I can see the sign in the distance," Dingo said as he took off his helmet off and placed it on the bikes seat. "Do you have a phone?" Gary scrambled about in his combats pocket and handed Dingo his mobile. "Now I'll go after Dragon you wait here," Dingo instructed as he dialed nine one one on the phone.

"Wait for what?" Gary asked.

"Me I want a lift," grinned Dingo in a cheeky tone.

He put the phone up to his ear. "Police please. It's Don Dingo here. I'll be needing a...," he was interrupted by an enthusiastic fan.

"Well I'll be Don Dingo the famous detective! Wow. Where are you Don? the voice almost screamed down the phone.

"Roger Springs. I need a cop car to cart Dragon off in," said Dingo.

"You caught him?" she asked.

"Not yet. Just make sure one comes," he instructed then put the phone down and gave it back to Gary.

"You be careful," Gary warned him. "Dragon means business."

Dingo clutched hold of the gun that was hidden inside his sleeve; hoping he would not be forced to used it. Gary best not be lying to him, Dragon better be a lone. Gary did not seem like the type of person who made a good actor, so he decided to trust him.

Quietly he approached Roger Springs, it was only a few minutes walk away. Hopefully Dragon would not have heard the motor bikes engine. There was a stretch limo coming up, it was pulled right beside the sign that told you, you were at Roger Springs. He took a deep breath bracing himself for a fight, he was ready for the worst possible outcome.

He slipped over to the limo and quickly opened up the front door where the passenger sat. No passenger, good. The driver was staring at him in bewilderment.

"Sorry about this," Dingo apologized then whacked the driver round with his hand as hard as possible, but not so hard it would have any after effects. The driver hit his head on the stirring wheel and there was a loud honk. Panicked he pulled the driver from off the stirring wheel and sat him up straight in the seat.

"What was that?" Dragon shouted from the inside of the limo.

"Erm nothing. Just slipped," Dingo said trying to sound gruff, not knowing what that limo driver actually sounded like.

"I'm going now keep the car here," instructed Dragon.

Dingo heard the slamming of a door and watched as Dragon made his way over to Roger Springs. When Dragon was almost out of sight he got out of the limo and followed him; all the time keeping deadly quiet about it.

It was hard to see when you were going with it being so dark. Once or twice he would stumble over some uneven land or a lone rock wedged in the ground. Even still he kept going without Dragon noticing he was being followed.

As he crept a long Don Dingo wondered how he was going to confront this man; his usual method seemed the best course of action. Just charge in there and surprise Dragon and see what happened next. He was considering Dragon having a gun but that was not too much concern because he also had a gun.

He could no longer hear footsteps in front of him so he stopped as well and glared into the darkness, trying to find the thug he was after. Dragon was not hard to miss; there was that big guy's large shadowy silhouette revealed against the moonlight. Well there was no time like the present; all this could be done and dusted by the time the police came to take the villain where he belonged.

He carried on creeping for a while, Dragon soon heard him and span madly round, trying to find out who was in his presence. Dingo hid a giggle and stopped walking so his trainers did not crack the small stones under his feet.

"Who's there? Is that you Gary?" Dragon called.

Dingo proceeded with his walking; Dragon heard him and carried on franticly looking around for whoever it was; that was clearly trying to spook him.

"Thought you'd kidnap me did you?" Dingo sneered when he was close up to Dragon.

"Who is this!?" shouted Dragon.

"You kidnap a lot of people do you? Well you did not even ask my name so let me enlighten you. You tied me up in the basement at Cesar's Palace," explained Dingo in a casual tone for that type of situation.

"Oh you. That young fool. Go play somewhere else," laughed Dragon not feeling threatened at all.

"You'd have killed me down there if I had not escaped. Sent Gary to do your dirty work. I dunno your dealings but I do know they're big," Dingo said placing the barrel of the gun at the side of Dragon's head. "You should not mess with me; and Don Dingo does not play, least of all with people like you."

"Don Dingo?" stuttered Dragon who had heard about this young man and how he solved crimes easier than a rubix cube.

"Yeah him. Now you gonna come quiet? Dingo asked.

Dragon let out a cackle of a laugh. He sure was not going quietly; thinking about it Don Dingo could not get at him, he was just a young man with a gun, he probably had no intentions of using. Still laughing Dragon heavily with a thick fist knocked the gun out of Dingo's hand, his assumption proved right. Dingo had not dared to use the gun and blow off his head.

"Pathetic," sniggered Dragon aiming a punch in Dingo's direction. Only Dingo had seen that one coming, he dodged out of the way and skillfully had Dragon's paw in his hand.

"Don't underestimate me," Dingo whispered as he forcefully twisted back Dragon's fist. Dragon was biting his lip in pain, beads of sweat trickling down his bull dog like face.

Sirens were heard in the distance making Dingo sigh. Could the police never get it right? Clearly this big game thug could hear what was going off; that would surly cause him to try and make a run for it.

Scared Dragon forced him off his hand by reducing himself to biting Dingo; he was bitten so hard it brought blood. Yelping he drew away, but as the huge man started to make his get away, he stuck out his leg in a casual manner he stuck out his leg in a casual manner, and Dragon tripped over it, which sent him crashing to the floor.

"You OK?" Gary shouted, running over to the scene having heard a loud yelp.

"I'm fine a bit of blood that's all. Help me keep this one at bay," Dingo said as he tried to restrain a struggling Dragon on the floor.

"Blood where?" Gary asked as he helped keep hold of Dragon.

"My hand, he bit me," replied Dingo then turned to Dragon. "You are not a vampire you know?"

Gary let out a weak laugh. The sirens were getting louder and Dragon got more panicked. His game was up; his mob would surly be caught and some peace restored to the world, well at least in California. Gary was also looking panicked, scared the police would arrest him. He wanted to leave, drive off. If he did that though Dragon would get away and he would have let Don Dingo down. His conscience told him to stay, so he did.

"You're coming down with me you traitor!" Dragon spat.

"I deserve it," sighed Gary knowing he would have to face the consequences of his actions.

Dingo smiled to himself; rules could be bent and broken, well they certainly could when he was around. No more noise came from the sirens, the police were there. He heard feet running over to them.

"Here's Dragon," Dingo said shoving a shaking Dragon into two police officers. "We'll be going now," he added getting to his feet and brushing dirt off his clothes.

"Wait a minute," said a policeman who was cuffing Dragon. "Is that Gary? We had a report on him from a Stella. She says he was going to kill a man."

Dingo laughed airily. "Gary kill someone nah. He was helping me. Would not hurt a fly would you?" Gary gave his head a shake not believing Dingo was lying for him.

"Right Don Dingo. You two be on your way then. I'll make sure Dragon is put where he belongs," said the policeman as he made Dragon stand up and walk to wards the police car.

When the police were safely inside their cars Gary followed after Dingo who was heading to wards his Harley Davidson. He had so much respect for that young man; saving him from a life behind bars.

"Why'd you lie for me?" Gary asked.

"It was only a white lie. You did help me and I doubt you would have gone all the way and pulled the trigger. You are innocent, don't deserve jail when you redeemed yourself just now," Dingo explained as he seated himself on the motor bike.

"Thank you," smiled Gary gratefully as he started the ignition. "Where do you want dropping off?"

Dingo thought about that for a moment then called over the roaring engine. "Where you found me. If that is not too much trouble?"

"Not at all. The airport right?"

"That's the place. I'd like to go and get my luggage," smiled Dingo. He still had a trip to have with Jesse and his other American friends; Dragon was not spoiling his holiday. Actually he had kind of added some excitement to it.

[Shadow]

Chapter 6: Back to Business

Dumping his suitcase on the floor he bent down to pick up his mail. Junk, junk, junk, water bill, junk. That was great to come home to.

His trip to America had been extremely fun. He Jesse and several other of his friends had spent two weeks on the beach: surfing, sunbathing, playing volleyball and of course having barbecues at night. He loved his American friends and it was rather sad to come back home to his big loft flat. He made his way over to his fridge; got his guitar magnet and placed it on the corner of his photo. His photo being of him and his four friends. At least he had those memories, until the next time, which hopefully would not be too far away.

The next job was to check his answer phone. He let out a groan. Twenty five messages; he was popular. He pressed the button. Making himself comfortable he sunk down onto the black leather sofa, and listened to his messages.

"Hi Don mate. I borrowed your Iron Maiden Cd, didn't think you'd mind. Give it back to you when you get home, along with your keys. Call me," said the voice of his best friend Geordie. He had given Geordie a set of his flat keys. The reason being Geordie could feed his cat while he was gone.

The next message was not so cheery. "Don Dingo, have you gone to California? Because I tried calling you and you're not answering your mobile," droned the voice of his agent, Tara Stone.

The next message was from her as well. "Really, Don call me if you're not on holiday." The next message was from her as well. "Please call me, if you get this." The rest of the messages were all from his agent as well; all sounding more concerned as they went on. The final message she was practically screaming. "Don Dingo I am so worried about you. You always answer your phone when you go away. If you've gotten yourself into some kind of trouble I won't be happy. Call me OK?"

Dingo smiled; his phone had been stolen so he could not have picked it up. Honestly Tara did think the worst of him. He supposed he had better give her a call, tell her that her number one privet detective was alive and well. No he would do better than that, he would go pay her a visit. The most important person he wanted to ring was Geordie.

"Hey Geordie," he said, once he had dialed the number.

"Yay Don mate! You're back," Geordie said giddily.

"Sure am. Had a really good time. You should come next time; I know you'd love Jesse," Dingo said.

"I wish I could have come this time round, but work you know got in the way. Meet me tonight at Stan's Bar. We'll have a drink with the guys..."

"Then go on the pull," Dingo laughed, finishing off Geordie's sentence. "See you at eight."

"Seven," said Geordie.

"Six," said Dingo.

"Five! Be there. Cho," they both said in unison, then put down the receiver.

Dingo relaxed on his sofa for a moment remembering the friends he saw on a daily basis. Sure his American friends were amazing but he knew his English friends like the back of his hand. He was preparing to go and have a shower, when Panda his black and white moggie, leaped onto his lap.

Happily he scratched Panda behind her ear. His cat was soft and silky; she did not like going outside so was a stay at home flat cat. Feeling relaxed, he slouched down on the sofa and let his eyes droop. That sure had been a long flight.

Dingo woke up with a start. How long had he slept for? He stared over at his DVD player and felt his eyes popping out of his head. It was four o'clock; that meant he only had an hour before he had to meet Geordie and the rest of his friends. It looked like his agent would have to wait until the morning. He supposed one more day of not knowing where he was would not hurt.

Quickly he scrambled round for his telephone and ordered a taxi. When the taxi was ordered he went into his kitchen. Tipped some biscuits into Panda's dish; then made a mad dash for his shower.

He had the most spectacular power shower. It literally went whoosh, then all that could be seen was thick steam. In his rush he had forgot to take his hair out of it's bobble. He had really long black hair and usually always tied it back, except for when he was going out clubbing, like that particular night. He had the quickest shower in the world. Got dry and put on a very soft robe.

Now all he had to do was decide what to wear and do his hair. He went to his favorite room in the whole loft flat, his bedroom. It was home to all of his favorite things. The walls were painted light blue. Several posters were stuck to them. There was the rock hard band, Iron Maiden, staring at him, and also a scary Slipknot poster. There was also a full length wall mirror on the wall. On one side of the room was a master double bed and a book case. The opposite end of the room had a large wardrobe full of all his clothes and a desk, a very messy desk.

He went over to his desk and shifted round pieces of jewelry, pens, Cd cases and the odd crisp packet, in search of his hair straighteners. Him being one of those guys that straightened his hair, but only when he went out clubbing or to some kind of party; the rest of the time he looked quite grungy. He got his hand on the plug and gave it a tug, the straighteners were found at the end of the wire. That was lucky.

When he had his straighteners plugged in, he went over to his wardrobe to decide on what he was wearing. While the straighteners heated up. There was so much choice. Some black trousers and the black shirt with the pink pattern should be alright and of course his special clubbing boots with the studs in them.

By the time he had got dressed and straightened his hair, it was nearly time for the taxi. They usually ran late in his experience but you never knew one might turn up on time for once in a while. He did have a car. A beautiful red sports car. He was going to probably drink a lot, so had better not run the risk of driving. Nor did he want to leave his car parked up all night, in some foreign car park.

On the way out of his bedroom he swiped a thumb ring off his desk and got his wallet out of the desk drawer. Sure his money had been stolen in America, but he had been clever and not taken any plastic with him. He never traveled long distances with his cash cards. He was happy to see some money in the wallet too. Fifty pound and forty six pence. That would be a few rounds and pay for the taxi.

He left his flat; locking the door on the way out. Now should he use the lift take the stairs? He turned his nose up at the lift. It was one of those cage lifts and smelt strongly of urine. It certainly was much safer to take the stairs.

The stairs were not much better. You had to keep an eye out for vomit, some of which was his now and again. He half ran down the stairs, going two at a time and almost collided into Mrs. Clarkson. A dear old lady that he was sure would bake him cookies if he asked.

"Hello Don Dingo," Mrs. Clarkson beamed at him. "Had a nice holiday?"

"Yeah wicked. How's the article coming on?" Dingo said, stopping for a few brief seconds. Mrs. Clarkson was a journalist, quite a good one in his opinion.

"Fine dear. Have a nice evening," she smiled.

"You betch ya," Dingo said and he carried on running down the stairs. Come to think of it everyone that had a flat there had some kind of job to do with creativity; wherever they be musicians, painters, poets or writers. Dingo sure did love the atmosphere.

He got out into the fading sunlight, as a black taxi cab came down the street. It stopped right beside him. He got in next to the driver.

"Where to mate?" the driver asked.

"Stanley's. It's a bar. Do you know it?" Dingo replied.

"Yeah. Sure do. Stanley's it is. Drink there myself sometimes. Don Dingo is rumored to meet friends at that place. That's why I go."

Dingo let out a small smile as the taxi pulled off the street. People were all talking about him now a days, thanks to the media. Not that it bothered him. By all means he was enjoying the attention. He wondered how long it would take the driver to realize who he was. It did not take much longer, the driver was looking his way, to see if there was any on coming traffic before he took a turn. That was when he gasped; almost crashed the cab into a van.

"Whoa!" shouted the taxi driver, in excitement.

"Yeah whoa! Keep those eyes on the road and not me. As handsome as I am," Dingo said arrogantly.

"Oh er sorry, Mr. Dingo," apologized the driver.

"No worries," Dingo smiled, as he clapped him on the shoulder.

They soon pulled up outside Stanley's Bar; Dingo thrust a few notes into the driver's hands and went on his way, without bothering to wait for the change. He did not need the change; being quite well off, he had a lot of cash in his pocket.

Happily he pushed open the glass door of the up market bar. All the furnishing in there was leather; it was an extremely comfortable place to come hang out in. It was his favourite place to come and chill; as the lighting was low key. Dark blue bulbs hung over every table. He looked round for his friends, he spotted them sat at a round table in circular chairs. When Geordie saw him approach, he got up off his chair and gave him a smile. He gave Geordie a broad grin back.

"Don mate you're tanned," exclaimed Geordie.

"So I am," Dingo said looking at his bare brown arms. "I make you look pale," he smiled as he gave Geordie a friendly hug, then let go and gave his other friends at the table a wave.

"You've not replaced us with Americans have you?" Charlie asked.

"I sure have, Charlie boy," joked Dingo. "I like you both equal. Well maybe you guys a little more," he winked on a more serious note.

"Oh sit down," Alex said pulling him onto his lap. Dingo laughed out loud. It looked like Alex had started drinking an hour ago; Alex being the one they all had to keep an eye on because he had not yet worked out his drinking limit.

"How many you guys had?" Dingo asked.

"Just a few shots," replied Danny.

"I got some catching up to do," Dingo said, as he got free from his playful friend and made his way over to the bar.

He knew what each of his friends liked best to drink; so getting in rounds was really quick. Geordie liked Becks (the same as himself), Charlie had Carlsberg, Alex was a vodka drinker and Danny supped rum and coke. He went back with the drinks on a tray, and sat down amongst his crew.

There they were, having a casual conversation. He was telling them all about his trip to California. Arrogantly he boasted about his capturing of Dragon; his friends seemed panicked when they heard he had been kidnapped. He made it out to be no big deal and laughed their shocked reactions off.

"How many times? read a book like the rest of us or catch a movie. You can't live the movies," Charlie said, when Dingo had finished telling them about his trip.

"I can't help it," shrugged Dingo.

"You even get a case when your agent doesn't give you one. How do you get all the fun?" Alex asked.

"Easy. When you listen for the right stuff," Dingo said as he downed the remainder of his Becks.

"We don't come here to talk about work," grumbled Geordie.

Dingo gave Geordie a smile, knowing Geordie loathed work; he had a different job every month because he either got the sack or quit out of boredom. Even still he had invested a lot of money from his late grandma, which had him sorted for a couple of years.

He watched as Geordie attempted to make a castle out of the coasters on the table. He gained a whack round the back of the head, when he blew them down for him, after he had managed to build them up.

"Want a game of pool? Me and Geordie against you three?" Dingo asked as he threw a coaster at Geordie.

"Hows abouts us four against you. Seen as you think you're so amazing," Geordie sniggered. Dingo raised an eyebrow at him, wondering why he did not want to play on his side. "Or you too scared ickle Don?"

"Scared? Me scared of losing to you muppets? We all know I am the best," bragged Dingo. In the back of his head that comment had hurt. He knew he was the baby of the group, age wise, but Geordie did not need to be spiteful about it. They were all two years older than him and had all gone to the same high school; he was the outsider having bumped into them at an Iron Maiden concert. He had literally bumped into Geordie; he had been pushed into him by a big drunk gorilla of a man. He had only been fourteen, he remembered a sixteen year old Geordie throwing beer over the gorilla man and helping him up; then they had run so the gorilla man did not throttle them both.

"Don hello," Geordie said, waving a hand in front of Dingo's eyes because he seemed to be in a trance.

"Oh sorry. Just remembering how we met," smiled Dingo.

"Yeah like this," laughed Geordie and threw half of his drink over Dingo.

Dingo wished he had some drink left. He did not so took Alex's vodka and threw that instead. Not that Alex minded, he just took Danny's rum and coke, and threw it over Dingo and he laughed as Danny wrestled Charlie's Carlsberg away from him, and tipped it over Alex.

He laughed even harder when the five of them got kicked out of the bar for silly behavior. He was in stitches as Charlie pulled a face at the bar man. He was laughing so hard Geordie had to put an arm round his shoulders, to walk him along the pavement.

That night was the same as any other they had. They went to a few clubs, had a lot to drink and danced into the early hours of the morning. No matter where they went they always stuck together and looked out for each other in case things got rough. Not that they did that night. It was plain sailing and enjoyable.

Grunting Dingo stretched his limp arm, which he had slept funny on, and hit Geordie with it by mistake. Opening his eyes slightly he looked round to see where he had ended up that morning. There was his cinema screen television, that told him he was home. At home on his sofa leaned against Geordie; it looked as though they had helped each other back to his loft flat.

He sure did feel lousy; his tongue had gone all furry and stomach was performing somer saults. At least there was no hang-over invading his head; he never suffered from a bad head after drinking which was lucky. He shook his now messy hair out the way of his face and pulled himself from off Geordie; as soon as he moved Geordie fell and was laid down. Looking over at his DVD player he saw it was only five a.m. The spring was really light that year, judging by the chink of light that was peaking through the window's blind.

Dingo silently tip toed to the spare bedroom and pulled the duvet off the bed. He took it over to the sofa and placed it over Geordie. He was not the only one that looked a mess; Geordie's eyeliner had smudged and his electric blue hair had fallen out of it's usual spiky style.

"Hey erm, Don," mumbled Geordie who was half asleep.

"Yeah?" Dingo asked quietly.

"Party yay fun. Water please," Geordie slurred.

"Sure. My mouth's dry too," Dingo said and he went over to his kitchen area and found some glasses. He turned the tap of the kitchen sink, filling the glasses with cool water. "There you go. I shall see you in the morning," Dingo said as he gave Geordie a glass of water, then moved along to his bedroom. "Use the spare bedroom if you like," added Dingo before entering his bedroom.

He kicked off his boots, had a gulp of his water, then sunk down into bed feeling a little sick because of all of them drinks. They'd had a massive fish bowl, that was the main culprit for him feeling lousy. Well he could sleep the alcohol off until morning. By morning he meant twelve in the afternoon.

That had been a good estimate, he did wake up around twelve o'clock. When awake he felt as fresh as a daisy and got changed into some comfy jeans and black t-shirt. He combed through his hair, grabbed a bobble and tied his hair back in it's usual pony-tail.

"Where's mine?" Dingo asked cheekily, seeing that Geordie had made himself some toast, whilst enjoying watching the music channels.

"Make your own," replied Geordie, as he tried to keep the plate of toast out of the way of Dingo's grasp.

"Can't be bothered," Dingo said and stole a piece of toast. Then joined Geordie on the sofa.

They sang and head banged to the television for a while.
Then they resolved to wrestling as they normally did. When they were out of breath they simply talked about nothing in particular. They were both crazy full on people, so their friendship was pretty strong and trusting.

"Do you have any gel?" Geordie asked as he fingered at his hair, attempting to spike it up.

"Do I look like the type of guy that uses gel?" Dingo said, rolling his deep crystal blue eyes.

"It doesn't hurt to ask," Geordie smiled, as he got up from the sofa.

"I suppose you'll be wanting a ride home," stated Dingo.

"Yes I do," Geordie said.

"What would you do if I said no?" Dingo asked.

"Go smash up your fabulous car," laughed Geordie.

"Just as well I am traveling in your direction then mate," Dingo said.

He knew he had to go and pay his agent a visit without fail that day. Poor Tara had been in a real state by the sounds of his answer machine. Not that anyone could ever call Tara poor, she was like a great big bad tempered lizard most of the time.

There they were himself and Geordie in the cage lift. They could not be bothered to take on the stairs after all that drinking the night before. Although they could pretend to be famous wrestlers being lowered into the arena. When they reached the basement Dingo gently pushed Geordie out of the lift. The basement being where his red sports car was parked.

"It's not fair your car is so cool. I wants one," Geordie smiled admiring Dingo's car.

"I can't help having money," Dingo laughed.

"I don't believe you earn that much, being a privet detective; you must have a secret stash somewhere," Geordie said as he sat back in the comfortable leather car seat.

"Maybe I do. You'll never know," beamed Dingo.

"Can I put some music on?" asked Geordie.

"Go ahead. Only if it is played too loud mind," replied Dingo.

Slamming his foot down Dingo drove his car, at a rapid speed out of the car park. He shot down the road, driving fast but careful at the same time. He screamed along to Marilyn Manson as he went; laughing all the while at Geordie's head banging.

Quite soon because he had gone so fast he arrived at Geordie's flat, which he shared with Alex and Danny. Geordie got out of the car, giving him a wave and Dingo waved back, before driving off.

He pulled the car up outside a small but tall building, on a rough looking London street. A perfect place to locate an agency for privet detectives. Dingo was glad to be back. He wondered if he would have a list of problems, waiting for him to solve. People seemed to want his assistance more than anybody else's' those days; only not everybody could have him.

He walked over to a locked door and rang the bell on the intercom. He waited a moment then came the sound a weary Tara's voice.

"Who is it?" She really did sound distant and sad.

"The one and only Don Dingo!" he replied brightly.

"DON DINGO," Tara shouted, and he was not sure if that was a happy shout or one he should be afraid of.

Whatever it was it did not matter too much, because Tara had unlocked the door to allow him access; he pushed open the door and walk straight onto a flight of stairs. The building sure was narrow, it felt confined. Instantly the door locked with a click, behind him (an electrical security system). He bounded up the stairs and flew down a small landing. Then burst into Tara's room, without even knocking.

Tara was staring over at him with wild fiery eyes. She did not look too pleased, for she wore a scowl; had a disproving look which reminded him of Jason. Some people sure did take life too seriously. Without a scowl Tara did not look all that bad: she had auburn hair, tied back in a neat bun. She also had almond eyes, behind some designer glasses. That day Tara was wearing a black skirt and blazer. OK she did look scary; somebody you definitely did not cross.

"Finally you have got in touch with me. It has taken a while," Tara murmured darkly. Clicking a biro aggressively.

"I lost my mobile," Dingo explained; standing on the spot feeling as though he were going to be put on trail.

"Are the rumors true? Did Dragon kidnap you?" Tara asked.

"Yeah but I got free. Then I went after him, caught him as well. Dragon is locked up, thanks to me," Dingo smiled smugly.

"You went after him!" Tara yelled in disbelief.

"Yeah. Problem?" Dingo grinned.

"You were supposed to be going on holiday!" Tara shrieked, throwing her pen in Dingo's direction. "Holiday Don! I did not even assign you a case. Why do it? Dragon he's a big game guy, not your average thug. No individual should go seeking trouble like that. He is one of the most wanted men in the states. Are you deranged?"

Dingo jumped out of the way of the flying pen, then took a step over to Tara's desk. "I caught him didn't I?"

"Don't you grin at me. That is not the point. I was scared for you. I thought Dragon had killed you. Being a detective is not about seeking trouble. You should only go after assignments," Tara scolded.

"But I caught him," Dingo beamed.

"He could have caught you, Don Dingo," Tara said, raising from her chair and giving Dingo a sharp poke in the chest. "From now on it is assignments only."

"Alright alright. It's assignments only. I promise," Dingo said, raising up his hands in defeat.

Tara turned her scowl into a small smile and sat back down. "Good. Well I have nothing for you at the moment. When something comes up I'll email you."

Dingo gave Tara a wink as he backed out of her office. Even gave her an arrogant bow when he got to the door. "Your top privet detective shall see you soon, on his next pay day when he catches the next criminal, or solves a new puzzling case. Until then my dear."

"Oh Don," laughed Tara as he closed the door and made his way downstairs.


When he got home, Don Dingo emptied his suitcase into the washing machine. At the bottom of his suitcase he saw that notebook he more or less had stolen from Jason. Glad he had found it he went over to his sofa and read the writing inside of it; writing that certainly was not silly doodles. In his spare time when he was not playing the detective, he was a writer. He already had several novels published, under his writer's name, Angelo Dupree.

He wrote stories that were set in a fantasy world; with a handsome, intelligent elf as the main character. He read through the plot for the elf's new adventure. The elf basically got kidnapped by a wicked dragon, and was rescued by a knight in shining armour. Only the knight worried too much, and because he had spent too long saving the elf his realm abandoned him for not attending an important gathering. So the elf took the knight under his wing... and the rest he had yet to conjure. He supposed the elf and knight would go on some dangerous adventure together, and the knight would prove himself worthy of his old realm.

Feeling that would make a good book he seeked some crisps out of the kitchen cupboard, and reached for his laptop. Laying down on his sofa he balanced the laptop on his stomach and began to type up his new novel; dipping his hand into the bag of salt and vinegar crisps every so often.

Some days he could lay on that sofa and type all day, and well into the night. Words trickled out of his head and flowed all the way down to his finger tips, resting on the laptop keys. He had been hopeless at school, the subjects had bored him stupid; but when creative writing had cropped up in English classes he had soared.

Now his story was looking quite good he thought, as he read the first three chapters, he had managed to write that day. Well three chapters were enough for one day. Writing was a great way to entertain himself when he was not at work.