by steve higgs
I flattened myself to the roof and hoped that Big Ben would not pick the next couple of minutes as his time to regain consciousness. Flattening myself to the roof was almost certainly unnecessary, it was rare for people to look up, or to look for danger, or even to really take in their surroundings. All I needed to do to stay invisible was not move.
Two car doors thunked shut one after the other. A few moments later I was rewarded with the sight of Malcolm approaching. He was carrying a large torch which kicked out some powerful light. He was swinging it about, aiming it here and there. The second figure I had not met before, but I knew who it was because Mrs Collins had shown me a photograph. That Mr Collins was here now solved the case essentially, it certainly proved several elements of my theory to be correct and since I had been engaged to catch a spectral hound and solve the mystery of where her husband had gone I would be able to provide a complete report tonight.
‘Fluffy!’ shouted Malcolm, clearly calling a dog ‘Susan!’ Were the giant dogs really called Fluffy and Susan? If so, which was which? ‘Come on dogs.’ he called again and this time one of the giant hounds bounded out of the dark.
Then it was the turn of Mr Collins to speak ‘You can come out now, we know you are here.’ He stood with his arms folded, clearly feeling confident. ‘You are not the first to break in here looking for cash, but there is nothing here for you to find. If you are hiding from the dogs you can come out now, they won’t hurt you.’
I was ready to jump down from my position, staying there until they left was not an option, but I wondered what else he might say if I left him to ramble for a few more minutes.
‘Fluffy!’ Malcolm called again.
When Fluffy failed to appear and no one answered Mr Collins request for the intruder to come forward they advanced again. They were roughly twenty metres away and coming directly towards the cabin I was laying on top of. A few paces later and Malcolm spotted the second dog. He seemed genuinely concerned as he rushed forward falling to his knees by its head. I could hear him clearly from my position ‘Fluffy my baby, what have they done to you? If they have hurt, you I will track them down and make them pay.’
‘Never mind the damned dog, Malcolm.’
‘Never mind the dog? Never mind the fucking dog?’ Malcolm roared from his position on the floor. ‘This is all your fault! The dog should be at home with me not locked in your junk yard while you shack up with another woman and swindle your wife out of her half of the business.’ Keep going Malcolm; this is priceless I thought happily. Malcolm was still on the floor checking the dog over. He appeared to have contented himself that the dog was just knocked out and was stroking its head. ‘I don’t know how you talked me into this, I swear.’
‘I didn’t talk you into it. I’m your boss, I gave you an order. Simple.’ Mr Collins could not see the storm cloud brewing, but I could. Malcolm was attached to his dogs, I knew how he felt. The dogs were his to love and protect and he was unhappy at how things had turned out. I watched as he carefully laid the big dog’s head back on the ground and got to his feet.
‘You gave me an order, did you?’ Malcolm was not a small man and he was looking ready to throw some weight around.
Mr Collins was suddenly looking less confident. ‘Now then, Malcolm. Let us not get excited. We still have intruders to find.’
‘Well, maybe I don’t want to find them anymore. Maybe I ought to call Mrs Collins and tell her what I know.’
‘Now let’s not do anything rash, Malcolm.’ said Mr Collins.
‘Maybe I should tell Mrs Collins about the secret account and the other set of books that the tax people don’t know about.’
‘You wouldn’t dare.’ spluttered Mr Collins.
‘Or maybe you should make me your new partner in the business being as how loyal I have been to you all these years.’ Malcolm had moved to stand right in front of his boss. He towered over him now being quietly threatening.
‘Yes, Malcolm. Yes. I’m sure we can come to some arrangement.’ Mr Collins was stammering a little.
Beneath me in the dark, Big Ben groaned and both men swung their heads towards the noise. Time to go I thought to myself, but I was not quick enough to prevent what happened next.
Malcom took a step forward, flicked his big torch on and shone it in the general direction of Big Ben. Mr Collins also had a torch, a three-cell steel Maglite. I had not seen it until now as he had not turned it on and I was only seeing it now because he had raised it above his head.
‘No!’ I shouted. It was the only thing I could do but the only effect it had was to make Malcolm look up at me on top of the cabin. Behind him Mr Collins took a step forward and smashed the Maglite down onto Malcolm’s skull. Malcolm dropped like a stone.
I threw myself off the cabin before Mr Collins could follow the first blow up with another and hoped that Malcolm’s skull was as thick as it looked. I landed two-footed, rolled to absorb the impact and came up into a run. Mr Collins was only a few metres away, but the Maglite had reached the apex of its upward swing again and I could tell I wasn’t going to cover the distance in time. He had murder in mind and did not seem even aware that I was present.
I was about to yell at him again in the vain hope that I might disturb his aim then stopped myself for there was no need. The makeshift club swung cruelly downwards and stopped halfway as Susan caught it in her mouth. Susan had seen her stricken master and stepped in to save him. In the pale moonlight Mr Collins looked shocked. He had committed his body to the swing so as his arm had stopped the rest of his upper body had spun savagely about that point. He was now hanging under the dog, Maglite still in hand staring up at the dog’s face with a slack jaw.
The dog then shook its enormous head back and forth a few times and Mr Collins screamed. I know this about dogs from owning a few over the years: When they bite you, it hurts. I have only ever been bitten by accident, while playing with them as they had lunged for and missed a toy. On one occasion, a Labrador of mine bit my right hand and I could not hold a pen for a week. I suspected this was something more convincing than that.
I skidded to a halt next to Mr Collins and Susan. ‘Make it let go! Make it let go!’ Mr Collins appealed. I guess the pain was sufficient that he didn’t care why a chap had appeared out of the dark wearing black combat fatigues, he just wanted help.
‘Hello, Susan.’ I soothed. The dog looked at me impassively. I reached out to stroke its ear believing that it would either let me do so and perhaps I could slowly convince it to open its mouth, or it would see me as a threat, spit our Mr Collins and bite my face off.
Thankfully it went with option one. I scratched its right ear and cooed at it. ‘Perhaps you should drop the torch, Mr Collins.’ I suggested. He was still gripping it hard in his hand despite the dog’s mouth around his wrist. He did so, the torch clunking onto earth worn hard by countless heavy vehicles rolling over it.
‘Did I miss something?’ asked Big Ben from behind me.
‘Kind of. How are you feeling?’ I enquired.
‘Who are you people?’ asked Mr Collins still hanging from the dog’s mouth.
Ignoring him Big Ben replied to my question ‘I have a fuzzy head and I can taste twiglets, but otherwise I appear to be fine.’
‘Can you check out Malcolm while I catch you up then, mate? He took a nasty blow to the back of his head.’
Big Ben knelt to examine the inert form of Malcolm. ‘He’s alive. Got a cracking lump on the side of his skull though and it is bleeding quite convincingly.’ he advised after a few moments of scrutiny.
‘Call an ambulance please, Ben.’ I think it’s time we wrapped this up.
The dog continued to hold Mr Collins between his teeth. Every now and then Mr Collins would try to wriggle free and would be rewarded with Susan just increasing her grip a little as a warning. Mr Collins would squeal then settle and the cycle would repeat. I could not convince Susan to give up her prize and if I am honest I didn’t actually try very hard to make her.<
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A little less than thirty minutes later an ambulance arrived along with the police and shortly afterwards a police animal control unit. For once I didn’t know any of the police and for once they didn’t arrest me. Mr Collins had screamed blue murder at them accusing us of breaking in which had forced him to respond by coming to the yard. He then claimed we had attacked both he and Malcolm and caused the injuries paramedics were treating Malcolm for now. The police had looked at us seriously for a moment and probably would have arrested us had I not got Mrs Collins on the phone. As joint owner of the business she had given us a key, so we were not now intruders but two persons with a legal entitlement to be where we were. To finish the game though I retrieved the camera, took it back to the start and showed the police what had really happened.
They took Mr Collins away, put Malcolm into an ambulance and the two dogs were being handled by police animal specialists as Big Ben and I left.
Another case solved, Mrs Collins had been over the moon to find out that her husband was cheating on her. She referred to him and a useless piece of limp meat. Retribution seemed likely to ensue.
It was now 2118hrs according to my watch. I had to wipe dirt from the face of my watch when I lifted my cuff to check the time. Diving around in the dirt had unavoidable side effects and this was probably the dirtiest, oiliest dirt I would be able to find for miles around. I looked at my clothes. They were black, so the dirt did not show but I could tell it was there.
Nevertheless, Big Ben and I were going to the pub next. I had asked Big Ben if he felt he should see a doctor, but I knew what his answer would be before I asked it. Had he said yes, I would have known he was feeling really bad. He made the point that there wasn’t anything they could do except keep him in for observation and that this would be a waste of both his time and the NHS resources.
We arrived at Jagjit’s car, spun it around on the path sending debris shooting into the bushes and left the Breaker’s Yard behind us. I was driving. Obviously. And I was inclined to have a heavy right foot. It was not unusual for Big Ben and I to grab a beer for an after-action-review and I could hear the cold, amber liquid calling me.
The Bit of New Information Thursday October 14th 2157hrs
We parked Jagjit’s car back on his drive and knocked on the door to hand over the keys. Fortunately, Jagjit answered the door so we avoided having to explain to his parents why we were covered in dirt and had ripped clothes and bloody bandages.
‘Hey, Tempest.’ Jagjit said as he opened the door. ‘Tough night?’ Jagjit was wearing dinosaur pyjamas and was eating from a family sized bag of hula hoops. They were beef flavour. He offered the bag to Big Ben and I but we both politely declined. He had crumbs on his top.
‘It was eventful.’ I replied. ‘Thanks for the loan of your car. We didn’t need it in the end.’
‘Oh, really?’ he asked. ‘Did you not catch the dog?’
‘We did.’
‘Dog would be a loose term.’ Big Ben interrupted. ‘And there was two of them. Big ugly buggers.’
‘Yes. Well, we were able to get out alive and the case appears to be solved.’ I concluded.
‘Ben and I are going for a pint if you fancy joining us?’
‘I had better not, guys. I have a big meeting in the morning. Actually, that reminds me. I forgot that I have something to tell you.’
‘Oh, really? What is it?’
‘The lady you have been solving the Phantom case for. It turns out she is the big new client the partners at my firm are all excited about.’
My curiosity was peaked. ‘Tell me more please.’
‘Not much more to tell.’ he replied between munching crisps. ‘She has a big lump of riverside land. She and the partners are looking to turn it into a whole bunch of luxury homes looking out over the Thames. It should be worth mazillions.’
‘Mrs Barker?’
‘Yes, Mrs Margaret Barker.’
‘Definitely the same one that I have been working for.’
‘One hundred percent, mate. Why?’
Why? I wasn’t sure exactly, but this was important somehow.
Big Ben and I bid Jagjit good night and with a plan to see him tomorrow anyway we set off for a well-earned drink. We walked the half mile to the pub via my house. My two miniature Dachshunds had heard me coming down the path to the house and were scrambling to get out of the door to greet me as I was trying to get in. ‘Hello chaps.’ I said as I scooped them both, so I could get past them to grab their leads.
They both stopped and sniffed deeply at my clothing then eyes me suspiciously. I knew why. They did this every time I came home with the smell of another dog on me. They were jealous types. Bull eyed me disapprovingly then as a pair they left me to offer their affection to Big Ben instead – the dog version of a cold shoulder.
A minute later I had them both secured. They had snuffled excitedly around Big Ben’s feet while he gave them both a pat and a scratch. I was taking them to the pub and they understood enough of what I said to forgive me for cheating on them with another dog. Now they were straining at their leads to get to the destination. I needed no such encouragement.
Big reached the pub door first and opened it with a flourish. All conversation ceased briefly as the patrons stared at the two guys dressed in black SWAT gear now stood in the pub doorway.
‘Shut the door. You are letting the cold in.’ instructed Madge from her seat near the door. Madge was a pub regular, the type that you get in every village ale house that had been alive longer than anyone else and thus knows everyone and their business.
We did as instructed. I pulled a chair out for Big Ben to sit, he still looked a little woozy. I hooked the dog leads around a table leg to stop them wandering off and took a step towards the bar. I stopped there though and turned back to Big Ben. ‘What do you want to drink mate? You still look a little off balance.’
‘Hmmm.’ he replied. ‘I am not one hundred percent yet, I’ll give you that. Maybe just a beer.’
‘How about a non-alcoholic beer?’ I ventured.
‘Mate.’ he replied, turning to lock eyes with me. ‘Drinking non-alcoholic beer is like going down on your sister: it might taste kind of the same, but it is just plain wrong.’ Big Ben had a knack for analogy that often impressed and horrified at the same time.
‘A beer then?’ I confirmed and headed to the bar.
Big Ben and I had put away three pints in very quick succession whereupon he had taken the sensible route and jogged home. It was a solid five miles to his penthouse apartment in town and would take him perhaps forty minutes. It was safer and more responsible than me dropping him off. He could have taken a cab, but he believed the exercise would help to straighten out his head. I would not recommend everyone jog home late at night through dark countryside paths but in Big Ben’s case he was probably the most dangerous thing out there.
I had stayed for one more pint, because it felt right to do so, then had thanked the Landlord and had taken myself home. I walked through to the kitchen and snagged the dogs a gravy bone each. The gravy bones were inhaled as only a dog can, leaving two tiny faces looking up at me in the hope there might be more yet.
I went through the house performing some basic tidying up. I took the clean dishes out of the dishwasher and put them away. There was ironing to do, I fleetingly considered tackling it now, but my brain was fuzzy from a few hurried pints and I was dirty from the night’s fun and games at the breaker’s yard.
I snagged two more gravy bones to the staccato rhythm of tails beating excitedly and headed upstairs to get a shower before bed with the funny little dogs following.
As I got in to bed I remembered that the Ashes cricket match was starting shortly. It was in Australia this year so coverage did not begin until nearly midnight. I put the television in my bedroom on and turned it down to quiet. My brain was itching because of what Jagjit had told me. The Phantom of Barker Mill case was all sewn up. But something about what Mrs Barker was doing felt wron
g or off, or… something.
As the England opening batsmen were clapped onto the pitch I fell asleep still wondering what she was up to.
Breakfast and Brett Barker Friday 15th October 0907hrs
A restless brain had driven me from bed at 0615hrs. I had been awake for a while by then mulling over what I had missed. Jagjit had said that Mrs Barker was meeting with the senior partners at his firm today. She was going to be discussing a big property deal involving waterfront land on the Thames. The Mill was on the Thames riverfront and there was something entirely suspicious about her actions. I did not know what was making my Spidey-sense twitch yet, but I intended to find out.
At some point today, I would visit Mrs Collins again to provide a report on lasts nights events in person. It would wrap up the case and provide a chance to hand deliver the bill for my services. It was a secondary task that could wait though.
For the last almost three hours I had been crawling through all the information I had gathered on the Mill, the case, the Phantom and I had not yet determined a new theory. I did have some new unanswered questions though. Why would Mrs Barker be seeing commercial real estate agents? Who was the young man in the Nissan Skyline at her house? These were just two elements that were bothering me.
Today I would find out what was going on. I had seen the Nissan Skyline at the Mill so that was where I was going.
Bull and Dozer were snoozing in an early morning sunbeam on the sofa in the lounge. We had taken a decent walk this morning while I spun a few ideas in my head, so I was content that they were fine to be left. Dozer twitched a back leg while I watched and let out a snort. I was not sure they would even notice I had gone. Nevertheless, I gave them each a pat and received a grumbled complaint from Bull as my reward.
My bag and keys were on the side. I drained the last of my tea, visited the smallest room and with the determined step of a man seeking righteous justice I set off.
Then I went back and got my phone and set off again.