by Adele Abbott
Chapter 15
When Charlie took his break, he noticed he had a missed call from ‘All Man’. He didn’t want any of his work colleagues to overhear, so went out onto the street to call them back.
“Charlotte, it’s Charlie. You tried to call me?”
“Thanks for getting back to me. Look, I realise this is ridiculously short notice, but one of my clients has had a model cancel on him at the last minute. He’s seen your photos, and would like to use you. It’s for a jeans ad.”
“When is it?”
“That’s just it. It’s today. I’ve told them you won’t be available until five, but they still want you to do it, if you’re interested?”
“I’m not sure.”
“This is a big opportunity for you, Charlie. You could get lots more work off the back of this.”
He hesitated for a long moment, but then said, “Okay. I’ll do it.”
“Great. I’ll text you over the details this afternoon.”
As soon as he’d ended the call, Charlie began to have second thoughts. What had he let himself in for?
***
“Manic has something for you.”
“What is it this time?” Susan snapped; she was getting really tired of him jumping out from the shadows.
He passed her a scrap of paper with a name and telephone number on it.
“What’s this?”
“Manic promised to get you information about Burke Holdings. Manic always keeps his promises.”
“Who’s Dawn Chalmers?”
“Call her. You’ll see. Didn’t Manic tell you that he has contacts everywhere?”
Before she could quiz him any further, he’d disappeared again.
“Flynn wants to see you,” Stella said, before Susan even had the chance to sit down.
“Did he say what it was about?”
“No, but it sounded urgent.”
Susan made her way over to Flynn’s office. En route, she passed the water cooler crowd who made a few snide comments under their breath. Not that she cared.
“Flynn? You wanted to see me?”
“Have you heard about the murder?”
“No. I’ve only just walked in.”
“A man’s body has been found in an alleyway off the high street. The details are sketchy, but it sounds like it was a brutal attack in broad daylight. I need you to get over there straight away.”
“I’m on my way.”
***
“Do you fancy him?” Molly said.
Dorothy had been staring at the young man who was browsing the science fiction section.
“No. He’s not my type. I was just wondering what it would be like to drink human blood.”
“Shush! He might hear you.”
“I feel like I’m missing out. You’ve drunk it. What’s it like?”
“Fantastic, but sometimes I wish I’d never tried it.”
“Why?”
“Once you have, the synthetic stuff tastes like a poor substitute. The craving never really goes away.”
“Why don’t we jump him?” Dorothy smiled at the young man. “We could drink him dry.”
“You’re insane. I’ve drunk human blood before, but it’s always been by soft feeding. I’m not going to attack someone in broad daylight.”
“It was only the other day that you were talking about using a dating app to hook up with humans, so you could kill them and drink their blood.”
“That was a joke, Dorothy! I’m never going to kill anyone.”
“Pity. He does look tasty.”
The young man must have overheard because he smiled at the two women.
Little did he know.
***
Susan really did need to start on some kind of fitness regime. In London, she’d worked out at least a couple of times a week, but since arriving in Washbridge, she’d become a couch potato. By the time she’d run all the way to the high street, to follow up on the murder story, she was out of breath.
The large crowd that had gathered there were being kept back from the alleyway entrance by four police officers. Behind them, plain clothes detectives, and someone wearing a white coverall were standing around a small tented-off area, under which was presumably the body.
“Press.” Susan flashed her ID.
“You can’t go down there.” The female officer blocked her way.
“What’s happened?”
“There’ll be a statement later.”
“Is it murder?”
“There’ll be a statement later.”
Susan was getting nowhere fast.
An elderly, scruffy-looking man was staggering around the pavement. “It was a big monster.” He hiccupped. “It ripped his throat out, it did.”
“Okay, that’s enough, Ralph.” One of the male officers grabbed the old man’s arm. “It’s time you went on your way.”
“My ciggies are down there.” He pointed towards the alley.
“Too bad. Off you go.”
The old man cursed, and began to stagger away.
“Excuse me?” Susan caught up with him a few yards up the road.
“Hello, darling.” His breath almost bowled her over.
“Hi. Did I hear you say that you saw what happened back there?”
“You got any ciggies, love?”
“I don’t smoke.”
He turned away.
“Wait. Did you see anything?”
“Yeah. It ripped his throat out.”
“It? What exactly did you see?”
“It’ll cost you.”
Susan gave him a couple of pound coins.
“I can’t get any ciggies with that.”
She took a ten pound note from her purse, and handed it to him.
“You’re a sweetheart. What’s your name, beautiful?”
“Susan. Now, tell me. What happened?”
“Deserved it, he did. He tried to pinch my last ciggy.”
“Who did? The man who was killed?”
“Yeah. Then this guy shows up. A big guy. He tells the young fella to leave me alone. Next thing, the young guy pulls a knife.”
“Are you sure it was the young guy who had the knife?”
“Course I am. I’m not stupid.”
“Sorry. So what happened then?”
“The big guy turned into a wolf. A big’un too. Rips the young guy’s throat out before he could move.”
Oh boy! It looked like Susan had just wasted twelve pounds.
“Could the big guy have taken the young guy’s knife and killed him with that?”
“No. I just told you. He turned into a wolf.”
“Where did the wolf go?”
“He turned back into a man, but then this other geezer turned up.”
“Which other geezer?”
“I don’t know who he was, but he was dressed in a weird costume. Like a catsuit.”
“And what did he do?”
“He threw a wire net over the big guy.”
“A net? To capture him, you mean?”
“I suppose.”
“So where are they now? The man in the catsuit and the wolf guy?”
“The wolf guy disappeared. Puff! Just like that.”
“What do you mean, he disappeared?”
“As soon as the net was over him, he just disappeared. In a cloud of smoke. Puff!”
“And the catsuit guy?”
“He disappeared too.”
Oh boy! This old guy really was off his head. “Right. Thanks.”
Susan went back to the crowd, and asked around to see if she could find any more witnesses, but it seemed no one had seen anything. Flynn would be really impressed if she went back and told him the guy had been killed by a werewolf.
***
Charlie had just finished helping a new member to get to grips with the cross-trainer when Draycott called him into his office. Charlie started to panic; had there been another complaint?
“Shut the door, Charlie.”
“Have you heard?” Draycott said.
“Sorry? Heard what?”
“About the murder on the high street.”
“No. What happened?”
“The word is that a were shifted, and ripped a human’s throat out.”
“In broad daylight?”
“Apparently.”
“Were there any witnesses?”
“I’m not sure. Hopefully not. From what I hear, the rogue retrievers got to the scene before the police, and dragged the were’s sorry backside back to Candlefield.”
“Any idea who it was?”
“No, but it’s bad news for all of us. If there are any witnesses, then this will be all over the newspapers and TV. We don’t need that.”
“No kidding.”
***
Neil had just received his payslip via email. It made for sorry reading. He hated to admit it, but his father had been right about one thing. Neil had the title of ‘manager’, but what was he really? A glorified shop assistant who was paid barely enough to make ends meet. How was he ever going to pay back his flatmates? It would take him forever. He hated Socky for having got his hopes up over nothing.
Neil took out the business card that Trevor had given him. The Great Makepiece was represented by an agency called ‘Real Magic’. Trevor had said he should give them a call, but dare he do it? He might be on level three, but Neil would be the first to admit that his magic skills were rusty because he rarely got the chance to use them in Washbridge. Could he really stand in front of a group of humans, and put on a performance?
“Hey, Neil,” Debs shouted. “You haven’t forgotten you owe me ten pounds, have you?”
That settled it. He had to do something to improve his finances, and there was nothing else on the horizon, so he called the number on the card.
***
Susan waited until Stella had stepped out of the office before calling the number that Manic had given her. She couldn’t be sure what connection the person named on the scrap of paper had to Burke holdings, and she didn’t want to raise Stella’s hopes.
“Hello?” A female voice answered.
“Is that Mrs Chalmers?”
“Who’s this?”
“My name is Susan Hall. I’m a reporter with The Bugle.”
The woman laughed. “You’ve got a nerve.”
“Sorry?”
“You and your newspaper can kiss my backside. Goodbye.”
“Wait, please, Mrs Chalmers. Look, I’m new to The Bugle. Can you tell me what the problem is?”
“Problem?” She laughed again. “You lot sold me down the river.”
“How’s that?”
“Why don’t you ask your colleagues? I don’t have time to waste talking to you.”
“But, if you could—”
The line was dead.
That was one angry woman. The Bugle had its fair share of detractors, but this woman plainly hated the newspaper with a vengeance.
“Dougal!” Susan shouted. “Can I have a word?”
Dougal Andrews was standing next to the water cooler with Bob Bragg and a few of the other no-hopers. They all seemed to spend more time there than they did at their desks.
“Do you need my help, Suzy?”
“It’s Susan.”
“How’s the new office?”
“It’s okay, thanks.”
“Don’t get too comfortable. When Flynn gets his marching orders, you’ll be moving out, and I’ll be moving in.”
“If you say so. Do you know anything about a Mrs Chalmers?”
“Chalmers? I don’t think so. What’s it in connection with?”
Susan had no intention of telling Dougal that she was investigating Burke Holdings.
“Nothing. She just called, and gave me a right mouthful. She wanted me to know what a useless bunch she thought we were.”
“Hold on. I remember her. She wanted us to run some cock and bull story about being forced out of her house.”
“Did you go and talk to her?”
“She came here, and said she had evidence that people were being intimidated.”
“So you followed it up?”
“Nah. It was a nothing story. They were getting plenty of compensation for moving out. I couldn’t see what all the fuss was about.”
How Susan managed to stop herself from decking Andrews, she’d never know.
***
If Charlie had ever been more nervous, he couldn’t remember when. What had possessed him to agree to do the photo-shoot? He was bound to make a complete fool of himself, but he couldn’t back out now because he’d told Charlotte he’d do it.
She met him outside an anonymous-looking building on a back street in Washbridge.
“Are you okay, Charlie? You look pale.”
“I’m terrified.”
“There’s no need to be.” She put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I don’t normally accompany our models, but as it was your first time, I thought I should. Shall we go inside?”
“I suppose.”
The drab exterior belied the studio’s modern and well equipped interior.
“Charlie, this is Napoleon Coombes. He’s the photographer today.”
“Pleased to meet you, Charlie. Good of you to step in at such short notice. I have to say, you look even better than you did in the photo.”
“Thanks.” Charlie blushed.
Behind the photographer, was a backdrop meant to resemble a beach with the ocean beyond it.
“Charlie,” Napoleon said. “Will you go with Missy. She’ll do your hair and makeup.”
No one had mentioned makeup to him. “Okay, I guess.”
He followed the young woman into a small room at the far side of the studio.
“I understand this is your first time, Charlie?” Missy said.
“Yeah. I’m terrified.”
“There’s no need to be. Napoleon is terrific. Not like some of the other photographers. Why don’t you go behind that screen, and slip on the jeans and t-shirt, then I can see to your hair and makeup.”
He did as she asked. Remarkably, both the jeans and t-shirt were a perfect fit.
Once Missy had finished with him, she led him back through to the studio where Napoleon was waiting. Charlotte had taken a seat near to the door. Charlie could not take his eyes off the beautiful young woman who was standing in front of the beach backdrop. She was also wearing jeans and a t-shirt. They looked way better on her.
“Charlie. This is Jade.” Napoleon made the introductions. “She’ll be working with you today.”
“Hi, Charlie,” Jade said. “Don’t be nervous. I’ll show you what to do.”
“Thanks.”
“Right,” Napoleon said. “Let’s start with you putting your arm around Jade’s waist.”
“Okay.” Charlie blushed again.
“All the way around. She’s supposed to be your girlfriend.”
Jade tucked herself into Charlie’s embrace.
“That’s perfect.” Napoleon snapped a picture. “Now, look into each other’s eyes.”
Charlie tried, but found it too embarrassing.
“Come on, Charlie,” Jade whispered. “You’re supposed to be in love with me.”
“Sorry.” He tried again, and this time their eyes met.
“That’s better.” Napoleon took another photo.
The session lasted just under an hour, then Napoleon called it a day.
“Nice working with you, Charlie.” Jade gave him a peck on the cheek. “Maybe I’ll see you again.”
“You too. Bye.”
He got changed and left with Charlotte.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it, Charlie?” she said, once they were outside.
“It was okay.”
“Jade seemed to like you.”
“She was just being polite.”
“So, what do you think? Can I book you for more assignments?”
“Sure. Wh
y not?”
Chapter 16
Dorothy hated it when she was the only one of the flatmates who had to go into work—the thought of the others still snuggled up in bed made it even worse.
It was Saturday morning, and she was the only flatmate up and about. She only had one Saturday off each month, and today wasn’t it. Charlie worked alternate Saturdays, and Neil worked two Saturdays in every three. Both of them were off today. Susan didn’t usually work weekends.
Dorothy was already running late, and as there would be no lift from Neil today, she decided to forego breakfast—she’d pick up something from Sarnies on the way into work. What she definitely did need, though, was a drink of blood—just to get her going. There were only two bottles left in the mini fridge, so she’d need to buy some on her way back home. Dorothy checked her watch—she was already running late. She gulped down almost half a bottle of synthetic, and then hurried out of the bedroom.
“Dorothy? Are you okay?” Susan was up.
“Yeah, why?”
“What have you done to your mouth? There’s blood running down your chin.”
“Err—it’s nothing.” Dorothy grabbed a tissue, and wiped her face. “I just—err—I cut my lip.”
“Are you sure you’re okay. That was a lot of blood.”
“I’m fine. I have to dash or I’ll be late for work.” She hurried out of the apartment before Susan could ask any more questions.
Susan was becoming more and more concerned about Dorothy. Had she been drinking already that morning, stumbled, and hit her mouth on something? This was getting serious, and Susan didn’t see how she could simply stand by and not do something. But what?
Charlie had intended to have a lie in until mid-morning, but something had woken him. There was laughter and voices coming from the microphone. He tumbled out of bed, and staggered, still half-asleep, over to the magnifying glass. Greta was sitting on the bench, reading. All the noise was coming from Bunty’s house.
“Greta? What’s going on in there?”
“It’s none of my business, Charlie.”
“Bunty! Bunty!” Charlie called. “Can you come out here for a moment, please?”
The laughter stopped, and moments later, Bunty appeared.
“What is it, Charlie?”