Miranda Divine

Chapter One

The rain was coming in sheets against the window of the taxi cab. I sighed, and wondered if spring would ever come again, whilst at the same time, trying to figure out a way to tell the driver about his daughter. She had been missing for the last two months, and he was barely keeping it together. He was convinced that despite his family fleeing his war torn country to a better life in mine, his enemies had found him, and were trying to get to him through his daughter.

Unfortunately for her, it wasn’t quite that easy. During her first year at university, she had discovered all that is good about the western world, including, but not limited to, boys. She was currently shacked up with the school football superstar, not three streets from her family home. She could no longer return to her family, as she was no longer ‘pure’. Her father would at the very least disown her, if not carry on the traditions of their homeland, and attend to her sins. They would probably involve her younger brother, as he still embraced the old land, despite having been here since he was five.

The driver asked if it was ok if he played some music, and just before I answered that it was fine, he turned the radio station on. I didn’t know that my home town had a radio station that played Middle Eastern style music, but there you go, you learn something new every day. I suppose it made sense, seeing as Australia is such a multi-cultural country, but I decided not to dwell on it, as the music was starting to make my head hurt. My own musical preferences leaned towards 80’s disco tragic, who am I to judge another’s musical preferences?

I turned my mind back to the problem at hand. I was trying to figure out a way to steer the non-existent conversation towards his family, when I noticed a photo of a young woman stuck to the air-conditioning grille on the dashboard.

“Is this your daughter?” I asked innocently. The drivers face darkened immediately, and he turned to face me. As he was still driving in the sheeting rain, this alarmed me somewhat.

“What do you know about my daughter?” he demanded, “You Western pigs, you have stolen her from me, to punish me for the heroics I undertook in my homeland”

At that point, I decided to cut my losses, both with the journey, and the daughter. I stammered to the driver that here will do, and figured that where the daughter is now, she is way better off.


You see, I am a Diviner. I find what is lost. Don’t ask me how I do it; I have absolutely no idea, other than suddenly having a thought, or a picture pop into my head once I have spent a little time with the person who is seeking. It works quite well in my job as a private investigator. I don’t have to go through any illegal methods to get results. Actually, I’m not sure if having a picture of a young middle eastern girl, getting her belly button pierced by her footballer jock’s sister pop into my head, is exactly legal, but hey, it isn’t exactly illegal either, is it?
Fortunately, the taxi driver had let me out only four blocks from my apartment block, so instead of getting absolutely soaked through, I was only completely drenched by the time I got to my apartment. I live in an apartment above my office, which is in a small retail / residential precinct. Retail stores and offices on the ground floor; apartments on the two floors above. My apartment is on the first floor, directly above my office. It is quite a nice little set up. The six retail outlets house a florist, new-age store, a wedding stationer, a mortgage broker, a lawyer’s office, and my office is on the corner. I trudged up the stairs, miserably wet, and comforted myself with thoughts of the warm shower within. I managed to get the wet key into the wet lock without too much trouble, and flicked on the light as I walked into the foyer of my apartment.

The sight of the two bodies lying on my living room floor made me shriek.

CHAPTER TWO

“Goddamit, Carmine, what the hell is this?” I shouted, slamming the door behind me. I hoped my shriek wasn’t loud enough to alert the neighbours. Fortunately, the neighbour on the right side of me is an 80 year old lady, deaf as a post, and dotty as a hamster. The neighbour on the other side of her is another story. Creepy Pete. Slicked back hair, skinny as a rake, not sure if he actually works for a living. Well, not sure if he lodges a tax return, but he sure seems to have enough money to get by. I prayed that he was on one of his midnight sojourns. He was a bit too nosy for my liking. He knew something weird was going on with my flatmate, Carmine, but he just couldn’t put his finger on it.

He probably would be better off not putting his fingers anywhere near Carmine.

The two bodies were of young women. One of them had bleached blonde hair, track marks up both her arms, and, ahem, was desiccated. Is that the right word for someone who is completely drained of bodily fluids? The other woman had straggly brown hair, and track marks up both arms, the inside of her legs, and around her toes. She was fuller of figure. As in, she had all her bodily fluids, some of which were leaking onto my rug.

“Carmine!” I was getting pretty angry now. I don’t know how many times I had asked him to take his meals outside of the home, and here he is, dumping them in my living room. A chocolate Labrador sauntered into the living room at that moment. Oh great.

“Colin” I addressed the dog, “Where the hell is Carmine?” The dog whined and looked longingly toward the kitchen. “Colin, I don’t have time for this crap, change back and speak to me properly”. There was a shimmering blur around the dog, and when it cleared, there was a magnificent naked black man in its place.

“Jesus, Colin, go put some clothes on or something” I turned towards the kitchen, hoping that the espresso machine was still on. At least something was going my way tonight. I shoved a cup under the nozzle and set about making myself a latte. I love my espresso machine. So much so, that I have one in my office downstairs too.

“Make mine a latte” came a chocolaty voice from the living room. I hoped that Colin was decent when I came back in, carrying two cups. He was now wearing a leopard print thong, and sitting on the couch. I sighed, and handed him a cup, which he balanced on one of his firmly shaped thighs. I took a seat in the pleather chair opposite him.

“Girlfriend, your man Carmine had to pop out for some, biz-nez, you know what I mean?” said Colin. For a shape-shifter that had been born and raised in Australia, he spoke like Snoop Dogs poor cousin. I sighed again. All well and good, but what on earth was I supposed to do with the bodies?

“Is he expected back this evening, or will we have to remove those” I pointed at the bodies, as if Colin wouldn’t know what I was talking about. Colin didn’t even glance at them. He thought Carmines habits were disgusting, as Colin was a vegetarian.

“No, I think he is due back sometime before sunrise. He took a phone call on his mobile, and then shouted out that he would be back, like, later, and then he left. He didn’t say anything about those” Colin pointed in the vague direction of the bodies, “and I found them myself, when I came out of the bathroom”

This could have been several hours after Carmine had left, as Colin was notorious for hogging the shower.


We made small talk for a bit, discussing the case I had just come from my initial meeting with. It involved a woman who had fled with her children, from an abusive partner. The partner had been arrested, and had died in a fight in custody, and now his parents were looking for them. It was a tricky one, as the parents didn’t seem to be terribly moral, and I got the feeling that there was more to it than just being reunited with their grandchildren and daughter-in-law. I wanted to discuss this with Carmine, as he had had several hundred years of observing people, and I hadn’t. Colin liked to listen to the story, but he didn’t really grasp the concept of having an ulterior motive. I think Colin had spent many years just being a dog, before he came to us, and still had pretty doggy notions about life. For instance, here I am wondering what to do about the bodies in the living room, and Colin was rummaging around in the pantry for something to eat.

A key in the lock signalled Carmine’s return. Boy was he in trouble.