Kester Norwood wasn’t a detective.
Kester Norwood was a “wannabe” detective. Kester Norwood wasn’t even his real name, but he didn’t think James Donaghue sounded as mysterious and exciting as Kester Norwood did.
Even his brother had a more interesting name than he did – Brogan. Brogan Donaghue. But he was Kester now, so it didn’t matter. He’d changed it officially as soon as he’d turned eighteen and now, in his first year at University, nobody knew any different.
He modelled himself on the 1920s film noir style detectives, and could always be seen in a sharp, slim fitted suit and a trilby hat carefully balanced atop of his short blonde hair. Occasionally, he wore sunglasses, but not usually indoors.
He’d never actually solved any crimes, just read a lot of books and watched a lot of films. He’d been training, that was what he called it. He’d been training since he was thirteen years old, just waiting for the right opportunity, for the right case to come his way. And now, finally, it was here. He’d always known that going to University was the right move for him. He’d grown up in a small, stuffy middle class village in rural Devon. There were never any crimes there. Literally none at all. He’d helped to find a missing cat once. That was his crowning glory so far. He’d wrote a report for his website. He had a website, of course. All great detectives had websites these days, or so he’d heard.
There hadn’t actually been a crime, as such. In fact, there hadn’t been any crime at all. But he knew it would only be a matter of time. He was in London now, after all. Well, he was on the outskirts of London. He’d tried to get a flat on Baker Street but it was far too expensive. Rent has gone up since the Victorian era, apparently. Besides which, he’d only been in town for two days. Before long an interesting case would present itself. He had faith.
Now though, it was time for Kester’s most important and crucial first step. Choosing a sidekick. It is a well known fact that all great detectives have a great sidekick beside them, superheroes too. It would be a grave error to underestimate the importance of a sidekick. And so, Kester had come to the Student Union Bar, situated on campus and near to his halls of residence to suss out the potential. He had three people already in mind whom he had met earlier that day during University registration.
Claude Faulkner was shorter than him and slightly rounded. He could do with losing a few pounds chasing round after criminals. He seemed to favour wearing rather untrendy looking tweed jumpers, had a pair of large rimmed round glasses and the other students had already marked him out as a bit of a geek. Kester could imagine he was the type that had probably been bullied in school but he was probably intelligent, highly knowledgable on certain subjects and loyal to those who befriended him.
Sophy Ruskin was probably the prettiest girl Kester had ever seen although he told himself that wasn’t why she was on the shortlist. If she didn’t cut it as a sidekick she could definitely cut it as his girlfriend, should she agree. Pale with striking long black hair, she seemed to dress with the latest trends and was instantly friends with the “in crowd”. She was smart too though, studying English Literature and always carrying a classic tucked under her arm. She knew what she wanted and she knew how to get it.
Then there was Ren Takahashi. Japanese. This was his first time in England on some kind of placement studying History. He was obviously clever, a bonus point for any potential sidekick. He was quiet too, didn’t seem to do much talking. That was a good thing. Kester could do the talking, after all. The thing that really swung in his favour though, was his expert knowledge of judo. He was a black belt. That’d definitely be handy in a sticky situation, and Kester fully expected to get into many of those during his upcoming detective career.
He cradled his whiskey and soda, regarding the three of them thoughtfully from his position at the bar, trying to decide which one to approach.