by Sam Short
“Millie?” shouted Judith, pushing through the door behind Reuben. “Are you okay? You screamed!”
“Yes,” said Millie, regaining control of herself. “Everybody calm down. I had a fright, that’s all. When I saw the skeleton.” When she’d last seen the remains, most of them had been concealed by sand, but since the partial excavation, it was apparent that the creature in the sand had never been a dinosaur. Illuminated by the light from the phone, the permanently snarling skull had taken on an evil quality which made Millie shudder inside. “It looks scarier than in the photograph Mister Anon showed us,” she said.
Judith put a hand on Millie’s. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. Henry said the demon’s bones could still contain energy. I know he said it’s okay as long as we don’t touch them, but I don’t like it in this tent.”
Millie nodded. “I think you should phone your father, Judith. That shout we heard was a shout of fear, and I dread to think what the thud was.” Knowing exactly what the thud had been, but hoping against hope that the sound like the crack of metal on flesh-covered bone may have been caused by something less sinister than the images which spiralled out of control in her mind, she passed the phone to Judith.
“Thanks,” said Judith, tapping at the screen as they exited the tent. She spoke in urgent tones when her father answered, and ended the call with a promise. “I give you my word, Dad,” she said. “We won’t put ourselves in any danger.” She looked at Millie. “He’s on his way. He told me we should wait for him to get here before we do anything else.”
“No way,” said Millie. “Somebody might be lying injured in the sand. Somebody might need our help. We can’t afford to wait.”
“My thoughts exactly,” said Judith. She switched the phone’s torch on once more, and moved the light left and right over the dunes in front of them. “Stay close to me,” she said. “I’ll lead the way.”
A group of tiny moths fluttered around the phone as Judith scoured the sand ahead with the dim light, and a ground-nesting bird startled Millie as it burst from a large patch of dune grass and gave a panicked cry.
Millie followed close behind as Judith ventured left at the base of a steeper dune, and stopped in her tracks as the beam of light glinted back at her, reflected by a familiar object lying in the sand. “Over there,” she said. “Look.”
Millie approached the object first, and Judith bathed it in light. “A metal detector?” she said.
“Yes,” said Millie. “And I recognise it. It’s Tom Temples’s.”
Reuben let out a low moan. “Then that man lying in the sand over there must be Tom Temples,” he said.
Following Reuben’s gaze, Millie gasped. “Quick,” she said. “Shine your light on him, Judith.”
Millie reached the man’s side first, and put both hands over her mouth as Judith gave a shriek, and Reuben fluttered to the sand. “Poor man,” said the cockatiel.
Kneeling beside Tom, Millie placed a trembling hand on the man’s throat, and using two fingers, felt for a pulse. The deep bloody gash which ran for inches across Tom’s scalp, and his lifeless staring eyes could have spoken for her, but Millie still felt the need to say the words. “He’s dead,” she whispered.
“And there’s the murder weapon,” said Judith, pointing a few feet to the right. “A shovel. It’s got blood on it.”
“I don’t want to sound insensitive,” said Reuben. “I liked the man, but I think we should be more troubled about the fact that his murderer may still be nearby, than the fact he’s dead — for the moment, anyway.”
Millie wiped a tear from beneath her eye. “Reuben is right,” she said. “Look at that gash in Tom’s head. The shovel penetrated his skull. He had no chance. He wouldn’t have felt a thing. No amount of first-aid is going to help him. We should get back to the cottage and wait for your father, Judith. There’s nothing we can do for Tom. There’s nothing anybody can do for him.”
Light peeked over the horizon by the time Sergeant Spencer had finished inspecting the area for clues, and Tom’s body had been transported to the morgue.
Henry Pinkerton sighed as he stared out over the sand dunes. “A terrible thing,” he said. “But that’s what happens when demons pass through the gate — people get hurt.”
“Killed,” corrected Millie.
“You think it had something to do with the demons which came through the gate?” said Judith.
“We can’t be sure about anything,” said Henry. “The fact that Tom was found dead next to his metal detector almost certainly verifies Millie’s speculation that Tom had sneaked back to the area under the cover of darkness, knowing it had been cordoned off, but desperate to find a few more gold coins. His empty pouch would suggest that he either found no gold, or was killed soon after arriving. Sergeant Spencer found his car parked half a mile away in the nature reserve car park, too far away for you to hear engine noise from your cottage.”
“And he sneaked into the dunes,” said Millie. “To look for gold, but finding only death.”
“He would have sneaked onto the dunes from the direction of the lighthouse,” said Henry, placing a gentle hand on Millie’s shoulder. “I don’t see any reason why anybody else should have been there with him. I can only speculate at this point that perhaps the second demon came back to this area, to search for its partner, unfortunately for Tom. It’s new inside its host, and probably can’t control its anger yet. It will learn with time, but if it did kill Tom, it would have required no motive other than the rage it experienced when it discovered Tom in the same area in which its partner had perished.”
“It could have been gold fever,” said Millie. “Maybe it wasn’t the demon.”
“Pardon?” said Henry.
“It’s what Tom called it,” said Millie. “The urge to find gold. There were other people interested in finding out where Tom had been discovering his gold coins. Perhaps somebody did find out, and perhaps it was that person who killed Tom. Maybe it had nothing to do with a demon. Maybe that’s why his pouch was empty — maybe his gold was stolen.”
“We’ll look at it from all angles,” said Sergeant Spencer. “While Henry attempts to track down the second demon, I’ll treat the murder as if it were committed by a human, with a human motive to kill. Either way, whether it was a demon or not — we’ll be looking for a human, it’s just that in one of those scenarios the human will have an unwanted guest within him or her.”
Henry nodded. “Treat the murder as you would any other. Focus on finding a human, whether possessed or not,” he said. “And now this area is a murder scene, Sergeant Spencer, which allows you to cordon it off further. You no longer need a plan to keep those alien hunters away from the skeleton. When they come back, you’ll have every right to keep them from approaching the demon’s remains. Hopefully, the bones will be dust by the time they’re allowed access to the site again, and then any photographic evidence they have will be worthless — they’ll be labelled as fakes, and Spellbinder Bay won’t become a town visited by conspiracy theorists from the world over.”
“Good point,” said Sergeant Spencer. “In fact, Mister Anon left me a business card. I’ll ring him and explain what’s happened. Maybe I can persuade ASSHAT to stay away altogether for a few days. It’s worth a try.” He glanced at the crimson horizon. “It’s dawn. I suggest we all have some strong coffee and some breakfast, and then we’ll get on with the task of finding out who, or what, murdered Tom Temples. I’m assuming you two girls will want to help me?” he said, looking at Millie and Judith.
Judith nodded. “Of course.”
“Try and stop me,” said Millie. “I liked Tom. I really want to find out what happened to him.”
Henry Pinkerton adjusted his cufflinks and gave a nod. “You have a plan, it seems. I shall bid you farewell. Please keep me updated on any progress you make, and I shall do likewise with any progress I make,” he said. “Be wary of everybody. Remember — a demon inside a human will appear from the outside as just another
person, and with time will gain the ability to control its rage and mingle seamlessly with the rest of the human race. Some of history’s worst dictators were humans possessed by demons. We don’t want this demon to gain that level of notoriety. It must be found.”
Before anybody had time to answer, a whip crack echoed across the dunes, and Henry had vanished, leaving only the faint smell of ozone, and a sliver of white light hanging momentarily in the air, before that vanished, too.
Sergeant Spencer took a deep sniff of the crisp morning air. “I’m hungry,” he stated. “We should have breakfast before beginning a murder investigation.”
Chapter 8
Millie served a simple breakfast, greatly appreciated by Judith, Sergeant Spencer and Reuben — who pecked at a crispy strip of bacon fat discarded by Judith, making appreciative squawks and whistles as he ate.
Eating a bacon sandwich, Millie watched the father and daughter laughing together as they shared a meal. She hated envy, but she couldn’t shake the jealousy which wormed its way through her belly — not a malevolent jealously, but unwarranted all the same.
The fact that she’d never shared a breakfast with her father, didn’t give her the right to envy anybody else’s relationship. She helped herself to another slice of bacon and shook the idea of opening her mother’s letter from her mind, butterflies rising in her stomach. She wasn’t ready. Not Yet. Not ready to learn who her father was, and not ready for the potential hurt which might accompany his identity being revealed. She put a smile on her face. “Has everybody had enough to eat?” she asked, as she refilled coffee cups.
Sergeant Spencer patted his belly and gave a big smile. “I’m stuffed to the rafters,” he said. “You’re a fine cook.”
“Me too,” said Judith. “Thank you, Millie. Breakfast was delicious.”
Reuben looked up, his beak smeared with egg yolk. “Very nice,” he said.
“It’s weird watching you eating an egg, Reuben,” said Sergeant Spencer. “It doesn’t seem right.”
“I didn’t lay it,” said Reuben. “A hen did. What’s weird about it, anyway? I can’t even lay eggs. I’m a man-bird. It’s rude of you to make such comments.”
“I apologise,” said Sergeant Spencer. “It was just an observation.”
The bird nodded, and dipped his beak into the egg yolk on the plate in front of him. He gave a contented whistle, and moved his attention to a sausage.
“Remember to eat some seeds, Reuben,” said Millie. “We had a deal. I let you eat what you like, but you supplement your diet with seeds. The vitamins in them keep your plumage looking nice and healthy.”
The cockatiel swallowed a piece of sausage. “I know,” he said. “I’ll have some today, while you’re out investigating Tom’s murder. I promise.”
“Oh?” said Millie. “Are you not coming with us? I thought you’d enjoy it. You like putting your beak in other people’s business.”
“Very funny, but I’ve got other things to do,” said the bird. “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind me spending some time in your cavern again?”
Millie raised an eyebrow. “Of course I don’t mind you being down there, Reuben,” she said, glancing at the door to the left of the fireplace. “But what is it you’re doing in there? You missed our run yesterday so you could be in the cavern, and I found you down there when I came back from the pub quiz on Monday night.”
“You told me I was allowed,” said Reuben.
“You are!” said Millie. “I was just wondering what you were doing.”
“Looking through the big spell book,” said Reuben. “Nothing exciting. It’s taking some time because I don’t have hands. Turning heavy pages with a beak and claws is quite hard going.”
“Do you need help?” said Millie. “Are you looking for anything in particular?”
“What do you want with spells, Reuben?” asked Judith. “You can’t use magic. Can you?”
“No, I can’t use magic,” said Reuben. “But I can be interested in it, can’t I? That is allowed, isn’t it? Everybody complains that I watch too much TV — I thought you’d all be happy that I’ve got my head in a book instead. A bird can’t win, it seems! Damned if you do, and damned if you don’t!”
“Blimey, Reuben, chill out,” said Millie, beginning to clear the table. “Spend all the time you want down there, just be careful, okay?”
Sergeant Spencer looked up. “An engine,” he said. “Somebody’s here. I bet it’s ASSHAT. When I spoke to Mister Anon on the phone, he said he’d be here by eight. He didn’t sound very happy when I told him the sand dunes were now a murder scene, and he couldn’t access the skeleton. I think he swore before he ended the call.”
Millie rushed towards the front door as it swung open, bringing with it the angry face of Mister Anon, with Mister Incognito close behind him. She stared at the two men. “I’ll let you off this time, but never do that again,” she warned. “You knock and wait to be invited in next time, do you understand?”
“Oh. Sorry,” said Mister Incognito. “Should we go out and try again?”
Mister Anon turned on the spot, and faced his partner. “No, Mister Incognito. We will not go out and try again. We’re angry, remember?”
Mister Incognito took a step backwards. “Okay Graham, I’m sorry. I —”
“Don’t call me that!” hissed Mister Anon. He turned to face the room. “Did anybody hear that?”
“Hear what?” said Sergeant Spencer, his stomach shaking as he repressed laughter. “I don’t think any of us heard anything.”
“I didn’t,” said Millie.
“Me neither,” said Judith. “What did we miss?”
Mister incognito peered past his partner. “I called Mister Anon by his real —”
“Stop talking, Mister Incognito!” snapped Mister Anon. “Just stop talking, would you?”
“I’m sorry,” said Mister Incognito, bowing his head. “My lips are sealed.”
“Good,” said Mister Anon, adjusting his cap and turning to face the room. “Now, what’s this I hear about a murder being committed in almost the exact same spot in which my alien skeleton was found?”
“Precisely that,” said Sergeant Spencer, “and for the foreseeable future, you won’t be allowed anywhere near the skeleton. The scene of a crime, especially a murder, is of more importance than the alleged remains of an alien for the time being. The site needs to be preserved until it’s been searched thoroughly for clues.” He looked at Millie, and winked. “And that could take some time. “Possibly a week.”
“At least let us check the skeleton before you begin your investigation,” said Mister Anon. “It’s important!”
Sergeant Spencer shook his head. “Nobody is allowed near a scene of a crime. You might contaminate it. The alleged alien remains won’t go anywhere, and nobody will go near them.”
“It’s not an alleged alien!” said Mister Anon. “Stop saying that! It is an alien! And what if the skeleton is radioactive? You don’t want to be going anywhere near it until it’s been tested.”
“I doubt it’s radioactive,” said Millie, resisting the urge to inform the men that it was not an alien, nor radioactive.
“It might be,” said Mister Anon. “I’d rather be on the safe side.”
“Yeah,” said Mister Incognito. “Radioactive with space radiation. It’s much worse than Earth radiation isn’t it, Gra — Mister Anon? It can make your skin turn blue and your eyes go a bit mad, can’t it, Mister Anon?”
Mister Anon sighed, and removed his sunglasses. “Yes, Mister Incognito. Space radiation may make your skin turn blue, and it’s possible your eyes might go… a bit mad, but at the moment, that’s mere speculation. It’s never been proved.” He stared at Sergeant Spencer, his top lip curling. “I’m sure you wouldn’t like to be the first person to test the hypothesis? Maybe it’s best if you stay away from the skeleton, while you investigate your so-called murder.”
“So-called?” said Sergeant Spencer.
“It�
�s a little convenient, isn’t it?” spat Mister Anon. “We leave the area for one night, and when we come back we’re told there’s been a murder at the very site we came to investigate, and that we’re not allowed near the skeleton! Very convenient, I’d say!”
Mister Incognito removed his glasses and narrowed his eyes. “Very conventional indeed,” he said.
“Convenient, Mister Incognito!” said Mister Anon. “The word is convenient!”
Mister Incognito smiled. “It is, Mister Anon. Very convenient indeed.”
“Never mind, Mister Incognito,” said Mister Anon, removing his hat and running a hand through his thinning brown hair. “Never mind.” His shoulders slumped as he looked at Millie. “I trust you’ll allow us to park our vehicle on your land? While we wait until this murder has been solved. I want to make sure we can see the tent covering the alien’s remains, twenty-four-seven. I don’t want anybody going near it! I won’t be responsible for an outbreak of blue skin and, or, mad eyes!”
Millie studied the two men. No longer as intimidating as they were the day before, the men’s confidence seemed to have deflated — especially Mister Anon’s, whose worried eyes waited for Millie to answer. “Okay,” she said. “You can stay on my land, but is that little van of yours really equipped for sleeping in?”
“Oh, we didn’t come back in that van,” said Mister Anon. “When the sergeant telephoned me this morning, I assumed we’d be here for longer than expected.”
“We came in the mobile home,” said Mister Incognito. “Didn’t we, Mister Anon?”
“We did,” said Mister Anon. “We’ll park it in a spot which gives us a clear view of the alien’s position. Nobody will get near that skeleton without us knowing about it!”
“Nobody,” confirmed Mister Incognito, removing his sunglasses and narrowing his eyes. “Not even me.”
Mister Anon gave a frustrated sigh. “Try and be a little more professional would you, Mister Incognito?”
Millie headed for the door. “Follow me. I’ll show you where you can park your mobile home. I don’t want it right outside my cottage, thank you very much.”