8: A gripping dark fantasy mystery

by Georgina Bartlett

  “No. But look. He’s heading for that car.”

  The figure in black ran across the street. He pulled out a set of keys, and a black car’s lights flashed. He turned to the camera as he jumped in.

  “Wait. Pause it,” Justine said.

  “I don’t think you’ll get an ID of him off of this camera.”

  “That’s not it. The footage is in colour. Check out his tie.” She tapped the screen.

  “It’s red. The man at the café, he was watching you,” Ronnie agreed. “What’s going on?”

  “Hell if I know,” Justine groaned. “Play the rest. Maybe we can get the plate.”

  Ronnie played the recording and they watched as the perp climbed into his car. As he drove away, Ronnie paused it.

  “There. It’s a clear shot of the plate. You can’t see it with this resolution, but we have our ways,” Ronnie remarked, and used her cutting tool to take a snippet of the plate before pasting it into an email.

  She hit send, then grabbed her desk phone and dialled ‘3’. “James. Hey, it’s Ronnie. I just sent you a snippet of a possible plate. Could you look at enhancing the resolution for me?” She paused as she waited for his answer. “Fab. Oh, and James, this is a rush job. Could you get it back to me in an hour? You’re an angel. Thanks,” Ronnie said, and hung up the phone. “We’ll have the picture back in an hour.” Her coffee skin looked flawless as she bit her bottom lip and slapped her hands together.

  “That’s amazing. Thank you,” Justine beamed, and lost herself in Ronnie’s eyes.

  “It’s nothing. Now for the hard question,” Ronnie kept her face straight as Justine gulped. “Chinese or pizza?”

  Ten

  Numb. Cold. Empty.

  Forrest knelt on the ground. His head was swimming, and his heart was heavy. He hadn’t felt this way since he found Harmony broken on the floor, or when he caused a group of boys to lose their lives. He was used to feeling the world at his feet, the rhythm of existence and connection between every living thing. Right now, he felt nothing. He wanted to look away from the men crying over their grandmother, to stand up and walk away, but he couldn’t.

  “Forrest, the soldiers and Harchers are all leaving. We managed to tie up that, thing, as well,” Amour boasted, brushing dust from his jacket. “Did you hear me?”

  Forrest didn’t flinch. He was like stone. Mort bent down in front of him, her eyes grey.

  “Forrest,” she hesitated, and laid her hand over his heart. The touch was enough that she choked on her breath and grabbed her chest.

  “What’s wrong?” Amour asked and joined them on the ground.

  “His pain. It’s almost unbearable.” Tears welled in her eyes. “There’s so much guilt and grief, I can barely feel Forrest anymore.” Mort cupped her hands around his face and stared into his glazed, dark green eyes. “This isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault. The boys, Madame Arbre, or Harmony.” Mort’s voice broke. “It’s not your fault.”

  Forrest met her eyes. “How did you? I never told anyone about that,” he whispered, and his chin wobbled.

  “The boys?” Mort asked, and Forrest nodded. “When I touch people, I can feel all the loss they carry with them. It becomes a part of you, like a phantom limb. I’m so sorry you had to go through that alone.” Mort wrapped her arms around him.

  Forrest kept his eyes on the men with Madame Arbre, till the warmth from Mort broke through. He lay his head on her shoulder and gave her a tight squeeze. “She was my baby sister, my responsibility. You’re all my responsibility,” Forrest cried.

  Amour laid a hand on Forrest’s arm and gave it a squeeze. “I know it can’t be easy being the eldest. But, Forrest, you are not responsible for us. We make our own mistakes. We’ll never get over the loss of Harmony.” Amour took a beat to clear his throat. “But her death is not on your shoulders. It belongs to the person who took her from us. And when we find out who that person is, they will pay,” he promised, and his eyes lit up with fire.

  Forrest nodded and pulled Amour into their hug. Doc watched them from a few feet away, tears in his eyes. As the three of them separated, he quickly wiped his face.

  “What?” Doc said. As he turned to see what had stolen Forrest’s attention, he spotted a fox with a silver tail and two different coloured eyes, one blue, one yellow. It came closer and stopped in front of them, sitting down on its hind legs. It seemed to deepen its gaze into Forrest’s eyes as it tilted its head to the side. Forrest couldn’t take his eyes away from the small creature, bemused by its presence. It stood and started to leave. Just before it was out of eyeshot, it looked back to Forrest.

  “We need to follow it.” Forrest threw himself up, skidded in the mud, and ran after the fox.

  “Has he gone mad?” Amour asked Mort and Doc. “Everyone else sees that it’s just a fox, right?”

  “Be supportive, Amour,” Mort chided, and ran after Forrest with Doc beside her.

  “Ok, so we’re all just chasing a fox. Am I the only sane one in this family?” Amour asked, till he realised he was talking to no one. “Fine,” he preached, and raced to catch up with them.

  ***

  The fox dashed in and out of sight, its silver tipped tail a pop of colour in all the green and brown of the woods.

  “Anyone have eyes on it?” Forrest spun in a circle as he lost sight of the creature.

  “How long are we going to play this game?” Amour sulked and looked around.

  “I have a feeling. I know I need to follow that fox. Anyone…?” Forrest said.

  “There!” Doc yelled, pointing to a group of ivy bushes to their left, a silver tail flicking past it.

  “Great job, Doc! Come on guys, don’t lose it!” Forrest yelled as he ran after the fox and gave Doc a pat on the back.

  The fox moved as if the forest was its playground, leaping and climbing over rocks and low-hanging branches. It ran into a part of the woods that seemed to have a large area of ground not taken up by trees, nothing but a small twig with green atop it. The animal sat again and waited till they had all caught up. It stood and brushed itself against the small twig in the ground before it ran back and sat on a rock behind them.

  “Come on, Forrest. This isn’t a sign. It’s a fox that wants to play and run us around the woods. Can we go back now?” Amour asked.

  “I was so sure,” Forrest admitted and rubbed his head. “I’m sorry. Yeah, let’s head back,” he faltered, his voice full of sadness.

  “Erm, Forrest,” Doc stammered, his eyes fixed on the twig in the ground.

  The leaves were shaking like a huge gust of wind had just come through, but no breeze accompanied the purple glow from the moon.

  “What’s happening?” Mort asked.

  “I’m not sure, I-” Doc started, but stopped when the dirt around the twig began to shift and build up.

  “Mort, are you doing this?” Amour asked with a sigh.

  “Hey bub, this isn’t me,” she answered him with an unimpressed huff.

  “Then what the hell is hap-” Amour started as the ground fell away.

  A magnificent angel oak tree started to rise from the ground, a thick and stumpy trunk with huge, deformed branches, reaching in every direction. Purple and pink buds wove around the green, like a cherry blossom. They all watched as it grew to its full size, the limbs now high into the sky.

  Amour circled the tree and grabbed a fistful of dirt from the floor to push through his fingers. “Does someone wanna explain this to me?”

  “Amour, we just watched the same thing you did,” Mort fumed. She took a step towards the tree. “Doc, you have any ideas?”

  “I’m afraid not. Like the rest of you, I just have questions,” he observed, and picked a flower that had fallen from the tree. “How did you know to follow the fox?” Doc asked Forrest..

  “I’m not sure. It just looked at me and I knew it wanted me to follow,” he explained, and placed a hand against the tree trunk. “This tree is incredibly old, its history…” Forre
st started, closing his eyes he seemed to listen, even though the others heard nothing.

  “Hey guys, where did that fox go?” Amour asked after walking around the entire tree, the whole thing the size of around five trees joined together.

  Forrest turned to scan the woods, one hand still on the tree, till a thud came from the other side. He jumped back and gazed at the tree in wonder. Mud fell from the trunk.

  “Doc, get behind me,” Forrest snapped, and let a darker green take his irises.

  The banging continued from the trunk, till a door swung open and an old woman with curly grey hair and soft eyes stood in the uneven doorway.

  “Madame Arbre?” Forrest whispered.

  She nodded and stepped aside from the doorway. “We ave a lot to discuss.”

  Eleven

  “I still can’t believe you did that!” Justine mocked. She laughed with a mouthful of fried rice, her cheeks rosy.

  “What?!” Ronnie replied, close to falling out of her chair from laughing so much. “It was a party. Someone always streaks naked at a party.” Ronnie sat in her desk chair with her jacket draped over it.

  “No, they really don’t,” Justine protested, and took another spring roll from the box on Ronnie’s desk. “Look at you. Can you get any food in your mouth?” she admonished, and leaned forward to flick a piece of rice from Ronnie’s white shirt that now had sauce on it.

  “You think that’s bad. You should see her when she eats a hamburger,” Rick taunted as he walked by with paperwork in his hands and gave Justine a wink.

  “Yeah. Thanks, Rick,” Ronnie sneered, and put her food back on her desk, then grabbed her can of soda. “So, how’s Jason?” she asked, and crossed her legs, and leaned back in her chair.

  Justine swallowed her partially chewed mouthful of food and choked. She grabbed her can of drink from the counter, sipped the soda, and cleared her throat. “Sorry about that. Went down the wrong hole.” She laughed and brushed her brown hair out of her face. Taking another spoonful of rice, she kept her eyes down.

  “J,” Ronnie probed, and raised her eyebrows.

  “Hmm?” she answered, and slowly chewed her food.

  “You really going to make me repeat the question?”

  “Oh, erm I don’t know. I haven’t been riding recently so I haven’t seen him,” Justine replied, stabbing her food with her chopsticks.

  “Huh. So you haven’t been riding. The one activity you have done every single Sunday since I’ve known you.”

  “No, just haven’t found the time,” Justine rasped, looking anywhere in the room but at Ronnie.

  “Oh, that’s too bad,” Ronnie jeered and pushed her bottom lip out. “What’s been taking up your time?” she asked, biting into a spring roll.

  “Well, you know, this and that,” Justine said, and shrugged. “Work is always crazy at this time of year. I mean every time of the year really.” She laughed nervously.

  “Fine,” Ronnie barked and threw her chopsticks into her take out box. “If we’re going to play this game, we can just wait in silence.”

  “Ron, don’t be like that.”

  “Then please tell me why you feel the need to lie right to my face,” she complained, pushing all her food boxes into the bin.

  “It’s just awkward,” Justine admitted, and ran her hand over her forehead.

  “It doesn’t need to be. You picked an emotionally unavailable guy over me. Does Jason even know how you really feel? God knows he’s clueless.”

  “Come on, that’s not fair.”

  “No? I’m here, J,” Ronnie blustered and stood up, holding her hands out either side of her like a flight attendant pointing to the exits. “I’ve always been here. You just never see me unless you need me. Like right now,” she groaned, and walked away, running a hand through her long red hair.

  Justine watched her walk to the restroom and shove open the door. She collected her food to throw into the waste bin and stood up to slip on her blazer and jacket. Ronnie’s computer beeped and she saw a new email from James. She took a peek towards the toilets and couldn’t see any movement. With a quick glance around the office she made sure there were no eyes on her as she took her chance. She opened the email from James and read that he had managed to get a number off the plate and traced it to an address in Knightsbridge, under the name Donovan Bellum. She took a post it from Ronnie’s desk and scribbled down the address before pushing it into her pocket. The door to the rest room opened and Ronnie walked out. Justine clicked away from the emails and grabbed her bag.

  “Leaving?” Ronnie asked as she got back to the desk.

  “Yeah, I think it’s what’s best right now,” Justine observed, and tucked her brown hair behind her ear before she took Ronnie’s hand in hers. “I’m sorry,” she said, and reached on her tip toes to brush her lips against Ronnie’s. Keeping her eyes closed she slipped past her and dropped her hand, blinking away tears as she walked straight to the elevator.

  ***

  Justine looked at the time on the dashboard of the Hyundai she rented for the week. The clock read 7pm. She’d just pulled up, ready for her long night of staking out the house across the street from where she parked. All the houses on the street looked exactly the same, white with large pillars either side of the door. She pulled a pair of night vision goggles out of her bag to get a closer look at the numbers on the gates. 22 Clash Street sat in the middle of all the identical dwellings. The lights on the middle floor were on, and she could see figures moving through the curtains. From what she could make out, it was two tall shadows moving from room to room. Without realising it, her goggles smacked against the glass of the car window when her phone started to vibrate. She had a quick glance at the flip phone screen and saw Ronnie’s name. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out what she had done. The ring finally stopped, and a moment later it shuffled twice to let her know a message had been left. Four more messages were left as the evening went on.

  The street remained silent throughout the night. Most of the noise and commotion came from cars on the road. Justine glanced at her phone, the time on the small flip screen read 9.15pm. Two hours had gone, and nothing had happened. The activity in the house had calmed down with barely any movement.

  She was used to nights like this. Private investigators had to come up with habits that helped them stay on such jobs. She reached into the back of the car and pulled up a large rucksack. From a side holder she grabbed a large flask that was filled with carrot and coriander soup, aware that if she stuck to liquids, she would only need to urinate, and that was a lot easier to deal with than the alternative.

  Just as she unscrewed the cap to the soup, a fancy Porsche pulled up. It looked like the car that had fled the scene earlier. Thankful that she had rented a car with tinted windows, she kept low, and pulled her binoculars back up to her eyes. The driver stepped from the car, a man wearing an all-black suit and red tie.

  “Hello, Mr Bellum,” Justine declared to herself.

  As he walked away from his car and through the gates to the large town house, the front door opened, and another man, dressed entirely in black, but instead had a green tie, stood in the entrance. They exchanged words and then, to Justine’s fright, the man with the green tie pointed in the direction of her car. Donovan Bellum turned and looked straight at her. She dropped the goggles, and they bounced on her legs before hitting the floor. Panicking, she grabbed her car keys and thrust them into the ignition, but before she could start the car, she stopped herself.

  If you speed off now, they’ll know you were watching, she thought.

  With her hand glued to the keys in the ignition, she watched as Donovan walked across the road, inching closer to her. Right as he was about to reach the car, he bent down, close enough to touch the door. Justine held her breath and inched away from the window. His head bobbed in and out of sight and when he finally rose, he had a black cat in his arms. The feline seemed to sense Justine, hissing at her through the tinted glass. Donovan gave it a
stroke and walked back over to the house.

  Justine’s hand had a perfect imprint of her keys from the tight grip she had around them. She released the breath she had been holding. Her whole body relaxed from its constricted state. Her phone vibrated again, and she saw that another message had been left, this time by the station. She took a deep breath and weighed up her options. She would go home and pursue this lead at a better time of day. She started the car and pulled away. As her lights rounded the corner of the road, a curtain that had been partially lifted in the top window of the house, dropped back down.

  Twelve

  “I don’t understand. We just left your grandsons with your body,” Amour stated, as they climbed a grand staircase that led in from the door.

  “Ah yes. Can yuh go fetch dem?? I’d like dem to know I’m not really dead,” Madame Arbre stressed in a thick Bajan accent.

  “Madame, I have tea for you and your guests,” a petite woman with mousy brown hair announced. She lay a silver plate with a tea pot and saucers on a large table in the centre of the room, and took a moment to gaze into all the new faces with a smile, till her eyes landed on Doc. The shock on her face was mirrored in his.

  “Everything ok?” Forrest asked Doc, his attention shifting between him and the woman.

  “Absolutely,” he answered, and ran a hand through his hair. “You know, I’m going to go and grab your grandsons. I’ll make sure no one follows us,” Doc assured, and dashed out of the room.

  “Ok. So what just happened?” Mort asked, her eyes wide.

  “I’m not sure,” Forrest admitted. He looked back to the woman who brought in the tea. With a curtsy she left the room without a word. “But we don’t have time to waste. Madame Arbre, how exactly are you alive?”

  “I ave her to tank for dat,” Madame Arbre explained as she took a seat at the table and pointed to a chest of drawers that had the silver tailed fox sat atop it.