I am not what you might loosely term, a good man. I am neither saintly nor sanctimonious. No more pleasant, than I am priestly. Whilst few would ever describe me as particularly pious in the way I conduct my business.
For you see, mine is a dastardly trade. A ceaseless foray of infinite struggle if you will. One lonely expedition after the next. I am, in fact, a treasure hunter. A seeker of riches, both sacred and profane. My penchant for prized possessions comes naturally, of course. My endeavour for all things inquisitive knows no bounds. It requires only grit, cunning, and a certain propensity to investigate…
…even when you are led astray, in the most unlikely of places…
…places that have questioned my very own moral fibre…
…and my ability to call myself, a good man.
*
Things were starting to get rough out there. Rugged and rough. Every scoundrel in the city was out on the prowl it seemed. Pickpockets and thieves proceeded to pillage the streets for anything that was not nailed into the ground. Meanwhile, somewhere in the middle of it all, the local police precinct had become awash with new unsolved cases and more missing persons reports to sift through.
All in all, the city had become a warped mess of muted mutterings and wicked whispers. A real, untidy affair. Yet, within this strange realm of dark disarray and unruly disorder, a little voice would whisper in my ear. It would tell me to be resolute, and to stand tall. For although the situation out there was bleak, and deeply troubling. It was just about ripe for some good old-fashioned treasure seeking...
…and that is all I needed to hear.
Now, more often than not, the life of an upstanding treasure hunter involves a great deal of scurrying around, peeking behind curtains and peeling back the bedsheets. One can often find themselves misguided and misled by all manner of enticing distractions, either wandering down blind alleys and endless dead-end streets, or otherwise occupied on another wild goose chase. Yet, sometimes a stab in the dark is not always just…well, a stab in the dark.
Sometimes, you get lucky.
For instance, I was once fortunate enough to unearth a rare piece of amber lying face down in the gutter one night. The poor thing had been carelessly dropped outside a nearby nightclub known as, Lady Smiley.
And boy, was I delighted that no one had spotted it.
Manoeuvring through drunken footsteps I hastily gathered the piece in my hands, noticing how broken, bruised…yet oh so endearingly beautiful it appeared, even in its beaten-up state. The amber shimmered beneath an umbrella of flickering street lamps and sparkling neon lights, outshining the many used needles and shattered bottles left in the street. But it too had been abandoned.
Stranded, rejected and forlorn.
So, what else could I do?
I gathered the amber in my possession.
And I never looked back.
My next grand discovery came in the form of two priceless crystals of great merit and scarcity. The pair were a little light up top…I will admit, but they were nonetheless full in body and form. And that was just the way I liked them.
Crucially, however, the crystals were to be purchased around the back of an old pool hall on the outskirts of the city. And this time, there was a rather shady character on the other end of the deal…
“Come on…” he bemoaned, “…you can walk away with the pair for a cool $50,000. No questions asked, pal. Do me a favour, will ya?”
“Don’t take me for a fool…” I told him, “…$20,000 for both. That’s as far as I am willing to go.”
The dealer shook his head vigorously, stroking his chin in a desperate manner.
“You can’t be serious…” he said, “…do you have any idea how much trouble I went through just to get my hands on these two!? The cops are already breathing down my neck as it is! $45,000 for both, that’ll do me…”
“I already told you my final offer…” I insisted, “…take it or leave it.”
His hands were tied, as it were. There was little the man could do but step back and nod his head, observing the exchange as it took place in front of him.
“Be careful…” he whispered unexpectedly, “…you ought to watch your back out there, mister. Plenty of talk doing the rounds. People are starting to get wise…”
“Oh yeah…?”
“Yeah. Just keep an eye on those two, alright?”
“Alright.”
Promising to cherish them forever and never to let them go, I grabbed both crystals tightly and bid the dealer farewell. But…you see, that is exactly what I did in the end. I let them go to the highest bidder.
And for a cool profit too, I might add.
Because no one said I had to be an honest treasure seeker, did they? No one said I had to be a trustworthy acquirer of goods, or a principled purveyor of riches. I merely had to be on my game at any given time. For there is always that one prized asset that invariably slips through your fingers.
And mine, of course, was a real beauty. A find of great magnificence and class. The most undeniably precious, and perfectly exquisite…little pearl…
…the likes of which had never been seen.
In a previous life, countless men had traded their mental fortitude in search of the cherished treasure, longing to call it their own. Talk of the pearl’s charm became rife among wantaway travellers and one-eyed sailors. Though, few had ever succeeded in capturing it for themselves.
Now, it sat all alone on the banks of the city underpass.
Waiting to be found…
I approached the pearl with a deftly touch. But the damned thing proved slippery…weaving in and out of my fingers and somehow evading my grasp. We fought, battled, and grappled toe-to-toe with one another until only one of us was left standing. That’s when the elusive pearl took a tumble, I’m afraid. It shattered against the rocks with a misplaced sleight of hand and calmly sunk into the murky depths below. One of the rare sunken secrets to foil my clutches...…
…the one that got away.
*
So, with that in mind, my friends…what else is there to reveal, but the details of my latest discovery? I had been on the lookout for the notorious Pink Ruby. Something of an outstanding capture, I think you will find. Yet one not without its perils…
My search had led me to an old dive-bar somewhere in the vicinity of the downtown dirty city. The place came equipped with a series of dark and dingy corners, hosting several nefarious beer drinkers who watched over me with wary, distrusting eyes.
“Where the hell is she!?” I demanded upon approaching the bartender.
“Oh…” he spoke softly, nervously tapping his fingers against the counter, “…and who…who exactly are you looking for this time?”
“You know precisely who I want…” I replied firmly, “…the girl with the pink hair.”
“…oh, Ruby?”
“Yeah, Ruby.”
“No, no not again…” the bartender stuttered, “…she…she doesn’t work here anymore. She’s left…and…and she wants nothing to do with you!”
That particular nugget of information had angered me. It had riled me up beyond all recognition. But, before I could offer the tight-lipped bartender my counteroffer, before I could give that little wuss a good piece of my mind…
… another, more dominant, voice had seemingly emerged from out back.
And this one was serious.
“Don’t worry, ok? You did well…” spoke the incoming police officer, placing her hand on the bartender’s shoulder and subsequently flashing her badge, “…we’ll take it from here.”
“Mr. Goodman…” the cop proceeded, “…I am placing you under arrest in conjunction with a series of missing persons cases that have recently afflicted the city…”
“Wait, what!?” I asked, dumbfounded.
Several more trigger-happy cops soon joined the officer at her side. Each of them came armed to the teeth with a string of smug expressions and several fully stacked firearms, ready and raring to go…
“Of course…” spoke the officer in an undeterred manner, “…I am speaking in relation to the disappearances, and suspected murders of…”
“…Amber Rodriguez, an out of work student cruelly ambushed on her way home after an innocent night out…”
“…Crystal Darcy and Crystal Maguire, better known as the Crystal Sisters; an after hours performance duo who have not been seen or heard from in weeks…”
“…and finally…Pearl Johnson, a single mother of three whose body recently washed up upon the banks of the downtown river.”
“But officer…” I pleaded, “…you don’t understand. Those women…I didn’t want to hurt them. They were…my treasures.”
The lead cop paused momentarily, offering me up one last look of disgust before ploughing full steam ahead.
“…you do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something which you may later rely on in court. Good day, Mr. Goodman…”
And just like that, my once proud and earnest career as one of the finest treasure hunters in the city…was over.
There were no more gems for me to get my hands on.
No jewels for me to pillage.
No more priceless trinkets to get my juices flowing…
…not with the plans they had in store for me.
And yet, I did warn you…didn’t I? I did try to tell you. That behind all the plunder, behind all the loot, behind every priceless object waiting to be chanced upon, and all the irresistible collectables that lay within our midst, there lies a man…
…a man of great yearning, and of great ambition too…
…but a man nonetheless…
…and not a particularly good one, at that.
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