by steve higgs
Big Ben was hovering near the door. ‘Time to go?’ he asked.
‘Yup. I think it best, but watch for the idiots outside.’ I turned to Demedicus and gave him a hand up. He got shakily to his feet with my arm around him for support we moved to the door.
‘Coming, Mrs Cambridge?’ I asked back over my shoulder. We were at the front door and ready to leave. I needed her so that I could get the evidence she claimed to have. I suspected it would lead to nothing, but I knew I would forever regret not checking if I failed to follow up what might stop a killer. ‘We really need to go, Mrs Cambridge’ I called again.
‘You go ahead love. I need to get this lot out of my house and tidy up the mess.’ Mrs Cambridge look royally upset about the house invasion and ready to grab a broom and start whacking people. I elected to get Demedicus out of the house and off to hospital with Big Ben. I would come back for the blood-stained clothes and help Mrs Cambridge disperse the crowd. This was partly out of sense of duty to little old ladies everywhere, even those that could put a big man down with one punch, and partly because I was now getting concerned about negative publicity. How long before the cops turned up? Or the press got hold of the story?
‘Ben get the door. We get Demedicus to the car and you get him to A&E while I clear up this mess mate. Sound good?’
‘Any plan that gets me out of here will be good enough.’ Big Ben opened the door and went out, but following close behind with Demedicus propped against me it all went to hell again.
The vampire-wannabes waiting outside had not been waiting patiently it seemed and as I stepped over the front door step Big Ben disappeared from view under a pile of them as they all rugby tackled him as one. I hardly had time to register this and react before Demedicus was ripped from my grasp and I too felt hands grabbing me.
Anyone who has ever been in a fight knows that it is probably going to end up on the ground within a few seconds if the first flurry of blows does not end it. It is not a comfortable place to be, but there are advantages to it. The weight of my attackers bore me to the ground, but I turned as I fell to get my back against the floor and thus my limbs available for striking out. It was a sea of black all around me and any number of ineffective blows were landing on my skull, arms and legs while I protected my face and waited a few seconds for an opening. It was hard to see where one person ended and the next began, but then I spotted a nose and whipped out my right leg. It connected just under the target and I drove my leg hard off of the solid floor beneath me. Suddenly daylight streamed in where the now departed vampire-wannabe had left a hole and I caught a foot that was trying to kick my ribs. The blow hurt but I was now able to angle my body and punch the attacker in his stationary groin.
Then the sweet sound of police sirens filed the air and as heads went up I sent a stiff hand into the throat of the now doubled over, sore groined vampire-wannabe whose foot I still held.
I glanced over to see Big Ben’s feet poking out from between someone else’s legs. As the police neared, the hands clutching me let go and I was able to stand up and take in the scene. Demedicus was sat on the garden wall accompanied by two female vampires, one of them cut quite an attractive figure in her tight leather trousers, but he seemed to be okay if a little pale still. His head was covered in blood from the headwound and it had run down over his face and onto his clothes. Big Ben was also getting up, so he was ok. I doubted his attackers were feeling too clever though. All around him were injured people, people holding themselves, people bleeding, people tending to someone else who was probably bleeding and they were all dressed as vampires. I had a sudden premonition that I was not going to get a great deal done today.
A Police car screeched to a halt in front of the property and I could hear more coming. First out of the car was PC thinkshesfunny from yesterday morning at the river. Out of the driver’s side emerged PC Hot stuff. Both PCs looked nervous in a positive way as if expecting trouble and prepared to deal with it. They had their hands on their batons and were ready for action. The fight was over though, the danger passed.
I stepped forward to speak with them, but was immediately jostled by vampire-wannabe number 1 who I suspected was probably Obsidian as he tried to get to the Police first. I guess his nuts had recovered. Perhaps this was a shrewd move on his part - point out the perpetrators and lay the blame early.
It was a tiny front yard laid to lawn with a few rose bushes now bereft of flowers in the mid-Autumn. To beat Obsidian to it I would have to trample the flowers which seemed unfair and I had faith that the truth would be borne out by Mrs Cambridge soon enough, so I let him crack on.
PC thinkshesfunny spoke first though, giving possibly Obsidian no chance to voice his side of the story. ‘Nobody move. Especially you, Mulder.’ still funny then. He took a few steps to his right, never taking his eyes off of the people in front of him. ‘You lot, move around to the front of the house.’ I guess he had seen more of the vampire-wannabes lurking at the side of the property which was confirmed when they began trudging around to the front as instructed. Not all of them clearly though as he yelled after someone that had elected to hop the fence and head for freedom. PC thinkshesfunny leaned his head down into the radio pinned to his lapel, spoke with someone else and the lead police car coming down the hill towards us swept straight passed the property probably to head off anyone fleeing the scene. I doubted it would be too difficult to spot them given the outfits being worn.
two more police cars pulled up, the rearmost containing a Chief Inspector going by my limited knowledge of insignia. He stood up and turned to face us putting his hat on as he did so.
The rest of the morning turned out to be distinctly boring. An ambulance arrived to take Jim away. Before leaving with him the medic on board treated a number of minor injuries, mostly cuts and bruises from the scuffle. Big Ben and I were handcuffed and left sat on the garden wall for more than an hour while the Chief Inspector spoke with Mrs Cambridge and a number of the vampire wannabes.
PC Hotstuff had taken preliminary statements from us as we were handcuffed which had at least given me a chance to explain that we had reacted to a request for our presence and that none of the property damage, if there was any, nor any of the injuries sustained were our fault. My statement was received with little emotion until I got the part where Mrs Cambridge believed she had blood soaked clothes that could tangibly make Jim the serial killer. At that point, she had hustled off to find the Chief Inspector, leaving us with PC thinkshesfunny. Then there was much radio squawking and in less than fifteen minutes two more police cars arrived on the scene followed by vans with SOCO looking chaps and cases full of equipment for gathering evidence.
It was not an easy task to check my watch with my hands cuffed behind my back but I always felt more balanced if I knew the time. I stretched my arms as far to the left as possible, hooked my right hand upwards to snag my sleeve and wriggled to get a look at my watch: 1143hrs. Nearly three hours had passed since we arrived so my thoughts were turning to lunch and to what my dogs might be doing. They would have happily spent the morning asleep, but would need to go out soon.
‘What do you think will happen next?’ Big Ben asked me.
‘You will be taken down town and spend a night in the cells while we try to work out why you started a riot in a peaceful village on a Saturday morning.’ PC thinkshesfunny offered. I really didn’t like him. ‘You need to learn to leave investigative work to the professionals and take up something you are better suited to.’
‘What are you doing, PC Hardacre?’ Ah the voice of tranquillity and reason. At least I hoped it was. PC Hotstuff was speaking from behind us. I could hear her approaching down the garden path. ‘A word, if you please.’
She came into view as she left the garden, motioned to PC thinkshesfunny and continued to the other side of the road.
I wanted to say ‘Run along now.’ but it seemed too juvenile and unnecessary, so I let him go without a look in his direction.
‘Is it me o
r is he quite difficult to like?’ I asked Big Ben
‘Tempest my friend, he is a practicing dick bag and should be ass fucked to death in public by donkeys.’ Goodness. Not much grey area there. Big Ben had little tolerance for people he didn’t like.
Across the road there appeared to be an exchange which looked less than friendly. I could not hear it, but it looked like PC Hotstuff was berating PC thinkshesfunny. I liked her even more, although I doubted she was doing it for me. She finished speaking and left him across the street as she came back to us. As she approached I tried hard to focus on ignoring the voice in my pants and his ideas about handcuffs and police uniforms.
‘It seems your story checks out. The Chief Inspector wants a word, but I expect you will be released soon.’
‘Any chance we can have our handcuffs removed?’ she turned to look at Big Ben who flashed her his most winning smile. Usually the smile is enough to get him into a girl’s pants, but he must have suffered a misfire or something because it had no effect at all.
Her face registered no emotion, but she shifted her focus to look behind him just as we heard male voices exiting the building.
‘PC Harper you can release them.’ PC Harper then, not Hotstuff, but perhaps my name was more apt. My guess was that the voice came from the Chief Inspector which was confirmed when I turned my head to look. Big Ben and I stood and turned so that our hand cuffs could be removed. ‘Gentlemen, you have had a busy morning.’
‘Not really.’ said Big Ben ‘We have been sat on this wall for most of it.’ Probably not the time for annoying the nice Chief Inspector but too late now.
He seemed not to notice the comment though as he introduced himself ‘I am Chief Inspector Quinn.’ Chief Inspector Quinn was a shade over six feet tall and modestly built, like a triathlete perhaps. I judged that he had been born locally given his accent. His face was well lined putting him in his late forties, but perhaps older given that he appeared to look after himself. There was small scar on his nose that probably had an interesting story, but could have been from a childhood accident and he had the air of patient authority that senior public officials have to develop in order to survive. ‘You are being released, but you may be called for questioning later so don’t leave the area. You have not committed a crime, but what you should have done is called the police.’ Inspector Quinn was displeased clearly and his voice had an angry tremble at the back of it that I felt he was doing well to suppress. ‘The suspect has a head wound that may complicate the investigation and you have contaminated the building, which may have contained key evidence. Thanks to you there are dozens of additional finger prints that we now need to catalogue and eliminate. Mrs Cambridge appears none the worse for her eventful morning; tough old bird that one, but I want to make this completely clear - I do not like what you do. You strike me as charlatans with all your paranormal nonsense. Stay away from this case, or I may find the time to investigate your business. I believe I will enjoy that more than you will.’
He was stood directly in front of me, speaking directly at me and giving additional emphasis with his eyes to show me that he meant it. This was a bust. I would not get paid for responding to Mrs Cambridge’s request, nor would I get near Jim again. If he was guilty, which to be fair seemed unlikely, I would not be involved or credited.
‘Very well, Chief Inspector. Are we free to go?’
‘Yes, Mr Michaels.’ There was no point in trying to get in the last word. He was wrong about me, about my motives and about my business, but I would only be able to prove that with actions.
‘Let’s grab our gear and get out of here, Ben.’ I hated being on the losing end. Who does? I was going to be in a crappy mood for a while, but just as I turned to go PC Hotstuff winked at me and gave me just a little smile. It was fleeting, but I didn’t imagine it. I paused to see if there was more but she turned her head away to speak with a colleague and was already walking away.
After Demedicus. Saturday September 25th 1257hrs
We travelled home in silence, each thinking our own thoughts. I should be angry about what had happened, not that being angry was constructive, but I felt it was a natural reaction. Instead I was thinking about PC Harper. She was very attractive that was for sure. Mr Wriggly had all kinds of activities planned, but ignoring that I had to wonder now if she had smiled at me, or at Big Ben. He had been laying the charm on fairly thick and it rarely failed. I was interested in her from a basic attraction level nothing more. Acknowledging that allowed my thoughts to move on to more pressing subjects like what to do next with the case. Before I could frame my next thought, Big Ben broke the silence.
‘It’s not my fault they picked a fight with me. I was merely defending myself.’ It was the same explanation he had given to the Police. Their questioning had largely corroborated this. He had thumped a number of bonkers vampire-wannabes and this constituted a good morning for him. ‘I like hitting people. Is that wrong?’ he asked from the passenger seat as we had driven home. He looked across at me to gauge my opinion.
‘I think there is a certain balance brought to the universe when the righteous hand out a well-deserved slap, but I worry that this morning was not quite a case of that. People should have the right to dress as vampires and be as weird as they choose to. That kind of freedom was one of the things the Army had us fight for. This morning I think they were genuinely convinced we were the bad guys and they were fighting on the righteous side.’ Big Ben though about that for a moment.
‘Bollocks, mate.’ he decided. ‘If just one of them takes off their make-up and never puts it back on then I will call it a success.
The drive back to Big Ben’s apartment took no time at all but we went the rest of the way in silence, each mentally licking our wounds. I dropped him off and pointed the car back to my place.
Bull and Dozer met me at the door propelled by their perpetually moving tails. ‘Hey, boys. Are you well rested?’ I let them into the back garden and ran up the stairs two at a time undoing my clothes as I went.
I flicked the shower on and stripped off the rest of my clothes, dumping them into the laundry hamper. I had not expected to end up in an all-out fight and be rolling around on the floor. I was sweaty and felt grimy.
As the warm water started to steam up the shower door I examined myself in the large mirror I had installed on one wall. I had several abrasions, a few bruises and the first traces of unpleasant body odour. Sweat is an inevitable side effect of rushing adrenalin, no way to fight and avoid it. Even in cold environments, I reminded myself. A couple of ribs on my right side were tender to the touch, I had a vague memory of taking a kick to my side when I was on the floor, and I had bruised knuckles which were making my hands stiff. Otherwise I was fine. I berated myself briefly for being crap and weak and got into the shower.
Shortly afterwards I was dressed in more normal gear and relaxing on the sofa. On the small table next to me was a now empty mug that once contained tea and a plate that held a few crumbs from a ham sandwich and an apple core. Both dogs were sat next to me eyeing up the core.
I made them wait, but when I got up I broke the apple core in two and dropped the pieces in different directions so that one dog could not grab both bits and run.
I had a prior engagement to have dinner with my parents so shortly Dozer, Bull and I would be taking a chilled bottle from the fridge and heading to their place. I felt lucky or privileged that my parents were still together - so many people got divorced it seemed. They were getting old now though and I liked to visit at least once a week to make sure they were not trying to tackle any tasks that were too strenuous, or trying to lift anything that was too heavy.
Mum and Dad. Saturday September 25th 1443hrs
Dad had been a serviceman in the Royal Navy, working throughout the world and largely dragging both my sister and I around with him. We knew no different of course and I personally had no complaints. Dad had enjoyed a successful career that had ended early due to injury. Now at sixty-eight h
e was essentially retired, but worked an occasional shift at the nearby Royal Dockyard tourist attraction as a guide. A former colleague from the Navy worked there, he had got him the job and I think my Dad went because he got to tell tales of seafaring and enjoy banter with likeminded chaps.
Mum and Dad still lived in the house they bought when he retired from the Navy. The house was a semidetached in a street of semidetached houses. It was neither big nor small and they were neither rich nor poor but they were happy together as far as I could tell and I liked that my parents were still together.
As I turned into their street I could see my Dad in the small front garden. He was bent over, facing towards me and had a garden fork in one hand that he was leaning on. It looked like he was weeding.
He looked up as I pulled into the space in front of their house and chucked a brief wave at me. The dogs had been asleep and quiet on the passenger seat for most of the journey but I could never get to my parent’s house without them knowing where they were and leaping about with excitement. How they knew and could tell where they were while asleep I would never know, but they always sprang to attention two corners before I reached Mum and Dad’s place and were now standing on their back legs looking out the passenger window at my Dad and waging their tails like mad.
Their noses left little prints on the glass, something I was always fighting to remove because I doubted passengers would appreciate dog snot marks next to their face.
I checked the pathway, leaned across and opened the door. They exploded outwards and shot up the short drive to join Dad as he bent down to fuss them.
‘Wotcha, kid.’ Dad said as I stepped out of the car and locked it. Dad had an easy smile that was rarely missing, and he really loved my dogs, although he had never had one of his own. His smile was broad now as he scratched their heads, down on one knee.