2 In the Doodoo with Voodoo

by steve higgs

  I slid into my car, refusing to hurry my pace or let them know that my pulse was hammering. Both men were taller, stronger and probably more willing to resort to violence than me. I had fight training, all cops do, and I had gone to additional classes, but it didn’t mean that I could face down two men and feel no fear.

  As I pulled away, I dared one glance back at them, just to see if they were still watching me. Terrance mimed shooting me with his right hand.

  Where Do We Work Now? Monday, October 31st 0640hrs

  I awoke with a jolt of nervousness, a dream that I could not now recall somehow scaring me awake. As my pulse returned to normal, I stared at the ceiling and remembered that I had Brett coming to the house tonight. My stomach squirmed with unnecessary worry. I had been feeling weird about Brett since the very first date, little more than a two weeks ago. He was just so perfect. It was not as though I was a virgin, for goodness sake. Why was I making such a big deal out of spending the night with him?

  I knew the answer of course. It was because I was getting older now and thoughts of husbands and babies, that a few years ago were abhorrent, were now palatable. Brett had everything. Money, intelligence, money, wit, money, a great body, a handsome face, and money. Not that I ever thought of myself as material or mercenary. I was not after him because he was rich. The truth is that he pursued me, but now that the money was on the table, I had to consider it and it was nice to consider.

  I would like to say that I love my job and would continue doing it even if I was rich, but I have only just started doing my new job as an investigator and would most likely quit and spend my time divided between the spa and the gym and the salon if I had the option to do so. I was a girly girl, I like unicorns and pink things and I like Brett Barker, so tonight I was going to show him the time of his life.

  With that insistent instruction echoing in my head, I swung my legs out of bed and pointed them at the bathroom. Before I could think about entertaining Brett I had a day ahead of me. There was a case to solve, probably other cases waiting, and this was day one of my new life where I was no longer a Police Officer but a private investigator instead.

  The Blue Moon office burned down last week, so it seemed we would be using Tempest’s house as a temporary office for a while. James had said that Tempest was away but not where he had gone. It was a little early to call Tempest now, so I would make the call later when I had eaten breakfast and after my trip to the gym.

  Five minutes later, I was going out the door in my gym gear with an oversized hoody to keep me warm against the October air.

  I came back through the door of my apartment just over an hour later with the hoody stuck to my sweaty skin. I had forced myself to lift weights again. Kettlebell squats are the only way to keep a toned bum a fitness instructor had once assured me. Then showed me her fifty-year-old perfectly rounded, lycra-clad bottom. She was right, unfortunately, and I had to do deadlifts to keep my hams and quads in order and shoulder presses to keep my arms and shoulders toned and bench press to keep the muscular wall beneath my boobs tight, which she assured me would mean they pointed the right direction for longer. I didn't hate going to the gym, I just struggled to find the motivation most days.

  The biggest problem fuelling my reluctance is getting out of my sweaty sports bra after the workout. It sticks to my skin, creating resistance when my arms are already sore and do not wish to be held over my head. I swear a straight-jacket would be easier to take off. Tugging and swearing, the bathroom already filling with steam from my shower, I finally pulled it over my head and threw it in the laundry basket.

  I took my time in the shower, making sure I tended to areas that Brett had not yet seen. All too soon, it was time to get on with the day. I ate a bowl of cereal while I was getting dressed and went out the door.

  In the car park, I remembered that I didn’t know where I was going and fished in my bag for my phone. I needed to call Tempest and find out where are we were working from now. Just as I touched it, the phone sprang to life with an incoming call – from Tempest.

  ‘Hi, Tempest. I was just about to call you. Where we are working from now.’

  ‘Good morning, Amanda.’ He answered.

  ‘Good morning, Tempest. I was heading to work but realised that I don't know where we will do that now. What can I do for you?'

  ‘I needed to let you know that I am going to be away for a few days. I decided I needed some time off.’ He fell silent while I considered his information.

  ‘What about the business?’ I asked.

  ‘I have no live cases, Jane can handle calls and emails and I will be back at the end of the week. If you wish to tackle anything that comes up, please feel free to do so. Jane can handle the paperwork and billing.’

  ‘Really? Just like that? Where will Jane be working? The office got burned down.’

  ‘I bought new IT gear and office supplies and set her up in my house. The customers will not be able to tell the difference until they wish to arrange a meeting. I asked Jane to put everyone off until the end of the week.’

  ‘Okay. I guess that all makes sense. Tempest?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Tempest, look. I wanted to talk about what happened with the Klowns...' Tempest felt that I had betrayed him, or at least that was how he had expressed it. I had been under strict instruction to not let him know that CI Quinn had assigned two plain-clothes policemen to follow him. I had not realised he was being used as bait. I had been told they were for his protection, but in hindsight, I should have known that CI Quinn was lying to me. Now I wanted to clear the air. I liked Tempest and we were going to work together now.

  He cut me off before I could express any of that though. ‘Amanda, I really don't want to talk about it. Not now at least. Let's pick it up when I get back, okay?'

  ‘Okay, Tempest. Have a good week.' I replied stifling a yawn. We said goodbye and disconnected. Maybe Tempest and I would talk about it later. Maybe it would just be left alone. He seemed to have moved on from it.

  So, I was heading to Tempest's house where I would find Jane but no Tempest. In my head, I was calling this day one of my job at the Blue Moon Investigation Agency. Even though I had already solved one case and worked on a couple of others, it had been part-time in between my shifts for the Police. Now though, I was full time working with Tempest; he insisted I was working with him, not for him. It felt like an insignificant use of words, but it was important to him somehow.

  I fired up my Mini Cooper and pointed it towards his place in Finchampstead. The sky was grey today, overcast and threatening rain much the same as it had been for the last few days. The weatherman had promised thunderstorms in the area, which might make the Halloween celebrations stunted. Parents would not take their children out to watch the parade in town if it was raining, nor would they want to be out trick or treating door to door.

  The drive to Tempest's place took less than ten minutes despite the early morning rush hour traffic. This was mostly because I could take less-travelled country roads to get there, but it was also only a few miles from my apartment in the town centre.

  His car was quite visibly absent from his drive. In its place was Jane's Ford Fiesta. The engine block was audibly cooling, quiet pinging noises coming from under the bonnet as I walked by it to tell me Jane had only recently turned the engine off.

  I almost knocked on the front door but lowered my hand as I saw the pointlessness of the action. Instead, I turned the handle and let myself in. I could hear the kettle beginning to bubble its excitement in his kitchen, then Jane came into view. She had heard the door open no doubt.

  ‘Tea or coffee?’ she called through from the kitchen.

  ‘I replied with, ‘Tea, please.’ As I joined her, dumping my handbag on the counter as I went. ‘It feels weird here without the dogs.’

  Jane shrugged. ‘I only came here for the first time yesterday and Tempest was about to leave then. What do you make of it? Tempest, taking a week off suddenly, I mean.'
Jane asked as she was pouring the hot water.

  I opened my mouth to reply, but I wasn't sure what I wanted to say. I was disappointed. He had hired me, this was my first full week at the firm, the office burned down three days ago, and I was now supposed to work out of his house. ‘I expect he felt that he needed a few days off. The Klown case was a tough one.' I left it at that.

  Jane handed me a hot mug of tea and left the room, heading for the dining room Tempest used as a home office. ‘We have a few cases to look at.’ She said as I followed her.

  ‘Is one of them something to do with voodoo?’

  ‘How do you know that?’ She asked, spinning her head around to look at me.

  ‘Kimberly Kousins called me last night. She had been trying to get hold of Tempest, but I guess she couldn’t and found my number instead. I went to see her.’

  ‘Wow. What did you think?’

  ‘About the case? I think Kimberly is scared and that there is a man stalking her.’

  ‘She said she had been cursed with ugliness and her hair and teeth were falling out.’

  ‘Yes, that is what she told me as well. I can confirm that she was having some issues with her hair and she said her gums were bleeding. Her skin was suffering also - lots of pimples. There is definitely something to investigate there. I already agreed to take the case.’

  ‘Jolly good.' Jane replied, settling herself in front of the shiny new computer Tempest had bought. The box for it, along with boxes for the new printer/copier and other equipment were stacked in the corner of the room, waiting to be disposed of. ‘I am poised to do whatever research you feel necessary. There are other cases though.'

  ‘Show me please’

  For the next twenty minutes, Jane and I went through the emails, calls, and messages that had come through over the weekend. Most of them were rubbish, but as always there were one or two that held merit. One of which was from the manager of Tonbridge Wells Ghost tours. The lady's name was Lily Hallett and she claimed they now had a real ghost. The ghost tour went around some of the older parts of Tonbridge Wells town centre, where the guide told stories and they had a few surprises where, with good timing, they were able to draw screams from their audience by having figures jump out on them or make noises in the dark. Recently they had been finding the audience screaming when they were not expected to though. Several customers had reported being touched by something unseen in the dark

  It was interesting enough that I copied the woman's number into my phone and called her. It rang for a few seconds before a voice came on the phone with a distinct Tonbridge Wells accent. She could not have been more posh if she tried.

  ‘Good morning. Lily Hallett speaking.’

  ‘Mrs. Hallett. This is Amanda Harper calling from the Blue Moon Investigation Agency. I believe you have a ghost on your ghost tour and would like us to investigate.'

  ‘Thank you for calling, Miss Harper. Is Tempest available to take my case?' Tempest has explained the sense in tackling several cases simultaneously. Most cases were only simple to solve after you had solved them. Finding the perfectly rational explanation often took hours of research and investigation though, so it was best to have overlapping cases that would allow some time for thought in between them and the time for information to be gathered. Tempest always had more than one case on the go.

  ‘We are.' I replied, meaning the business. 'I need to meet with you so that I might begin the process of gathering information. When would be convenient? Are you able to meet with me today?'

  ’I have an opening this morning if you are able to come to my office in Royal Tonbridge Wells’ She had made a point of saying Royal, just in case I was not aware of the towns full title. I had never heard anyone bother to say it before, even though it was on all the road signs.

  I checked my watch. It was twenty minutes after nine. I wanted to start looking into the voodoo case for Kimberly and I wanted to drop by the station to see Patience and have her check some information on Bartholomew, but I also wanted to bill some hours for the ghost tour case as it seemed likely that Mrs. Hallett could afford it. I outlined our fees, which she would most likely have already read from our website and promised to meet her at her office at eleven o'clock. Mrs. Hallett sounded very content that I was able to react quickly.

  With the call complete, I turned my attention back to Jane and picked up my tea to drink as it was now getting cool. ‘We need to look into Bartholomew King and Meet Market.' I said as I emptied the mug and placed it on the dining table out of the way.

  ‘Bartholomew King’. Jane recited as she typed. ‘Who is he?’

  ‘He is the person Kimberly claims has cursed her. The police registered a complaint from her when her cat went missing. She accused him of taking it, but she has no evidence. I will head to the station when I leave here and see if he has a record. She makes him sound like a dirtbag and he is from the Magdalene Estate so has probably been in trouble many times. I intend to find out a bit more about him and then visit him in uniform. I still have it, so I might as well make good use of it. I expect that a stern warning will be sufficient to get him to leave Kimberly alone.’

  Jane nodded in agreement, then squinted at the screen. ‘You have his address wrong. It says here he lives in Bearsted. Nice postcode.’

  I leaned in to look as Jane switched to Google Earth and pulled up images of the street. We could not tell which of the houses he lived in, but the postcode could show us the houses in that street and they were all big, expensive places.

  ‘Wow.’ I said almost as an involuntary reaction. I knew Bearsted. There were several very lovely restaurants there and a lot of expensive properties that surrounded a large village green where one could watch a Sunday cricket match. It was the kind of village that attracted rich businessmen from London as they could commute to work each day on a direct line into the city centre but come home every night to a family living in the countryside. It was not unusual for there to be Lamborghinis or Ferraris parked outside people’s houses. It was absolutely not in keeping with the image I had for the young man that Kimberly claimed had cursed her. ‘Are you sure you have the right person?’ I asked.

  ‘I could have it wrong. We only have limited data, but he is the only Bartholomew King living in the South East of England. There are only three people with that name in the United Kingdom, so I figure I must have the right guy.'

  ‘Can you email me his address, please? I will see what I can find out at the station and probably go there later today.' Jane clicked a few keys and my phone pinged at the arrival of the email. ‘Can you look at Meet Market? I want to see what kind of website it is, see if we can find his profile.'

  Jane started clicking the mouse again. ‘You ever try online dating.’ She asked.

  ‘No. thought about it once or twice. Wondered if I could filter out some of the idiots before I wasted an evening talking to them in a dreary bar somewhere. I never got around to it though. You?'

  ‘Once or twice. They are good for hook-ups, but I doubt many people find their true love using a website.' Talking to Jane, I often forgot that beneath the perfume, makeup and dress was a man. He sounded like a man of course. He didn't try to hide his deep voice, but he looked and acted like a girl most of the time. Like a man though, he was probably able to have emotionless sex with a perfect stranger and think nothing of it, so hook-ups might be appealing to him. They were certainly not to me.

  ‘I'm going to leave you with that to research and head off to see what I can find out about Bartholomew King.' Given the disparity in the addresses, I wondered if maybe the chap Kimberly was being stalked by had used a fake name. I would find out soon enough.

  ‘Sure thing.’ Jane replied, without looking up. She seemed quite content to do research sat in the home office, so I collected my bag, pulled out my car keys and headed off to visit Patience.

  Maidstone Police Station. Monday, October 31st 1006hrs

  The station was on the far side of the town centre from where I wa
s at Tempest’s house and a little more than a mile from my house, which I had to pass on my way there. I still had the chip in my car to access the car park behind the station and I was officially still employed, so I parked my car as near to the door as I could get and went inside.

  No one paid me any attention as I sat at an available desk and booted up the computer on it.

  ‘Hey, girl.' Came a familiar voice from behind me. I didn't have to turn around to see who it was, I already knew that it was Patience, but I could hear her coming my way, being abusive to men as she made her way across the room. ‘Want a doughnut?' she asked as she arrived by my right elbow.

  Patience had a coffee cup in her right hand and two dough-nuts in her left. One of them had several bite marks in it. There was a trace of icing sugar on her top lip and a few sprinkles on her uniform. The uniform was looking a little snug.

  ‘That was a rhetorical question wasn’t it?’

  ‘Yup.' Patience was not well known for sharing her confections. ‘What are you doing here anyway? I thought you quit this job.' Patience put her coffee down, shoved the remainder of the half-eaten doughnut in her mouth and pulled up a chair.

  ‘I need to look someone up on the database. My latest case involves a young lady that lives on the Magdalene Estate. She has a stalker of sorts and I want to check his record.’ A thought occurred to me. ‘You have heard of the Magdalene King, right?’

  ‘Of course. Everyone has. Might be a legend, might be real. No one really knows.'

  ‘The client believes her stalker is the Magdalene King.’

  ‘Isn’t that legend a few decades old now?’

  ‘Maybe it was a legend and now it is not. Anyway, I need to find this chap and see what kind of record he has.' I clicked the mouse a couple of times, navigated to a new screen and typed in his name. The page spooled for about a second before a young, handsome, black man's face filled the left half of the screen He looked like a college athlete, all he needed was his varsity top. He was smooth shaven, but not just his face. His head was completely bald as well. It was the same man Kimberly has shown me a photograph of last night. In her photo, he had been smiling. On the right half of the screen were details regarding his past.