2 In the Doodoo with Voodoo

by steve higgs

  ‘What have you got for us, Amanda?' He peered in the car, ushering Brad to get out of his way. ‘Python Reticulatus, a large male by the look of him. Not exactly native to Maidstone. Where did you say you found him again?'

  ‘In the car.’ I answered. I shuddered again.

  ‘Well, make yourself useful Hardacre, you are not here for your looks. Get animal control please.’

  ‘I already did, professor. They will be here in a few minutes.’

  ‘Jolly good.' He replied, barely acknowledging that Brad was there. Simon had gone into scientist mode. I had seen this many times before. The crime scene guys were all much the same, even the women on the team were cut from the same cloth. The Police Officers were a handy part of the team, but in their opinion, albeit that they rarely voiced it, they were the brains that got the crimes solved and we were just the monkeys running around finding them crimes to investigate. With nothing to do until animal control arrived, Simon wandered back to the van where he produced a thermos flask and two cups for him and Steve.

  I wandered across to talk to them. ‘How long do you think this will take?' I asked.

  ‘That depends on several factors, Amanda.’

  ‘I’m listening.’

  ‘We must wait an indeterminate period for the snake to be removed before we can start work. Thereafter, dusting for prints, lifting hair and fibre and anything else we find will take a couple of hours. Were this a murder scene and we were here officially and not just because you asked nicely, it would take all day, but we could be called away at any moment so will be proceeding with the abridged version of our search. You can have your car back around lunchtime, but other than fingerprint results, it will take some time to perform any analysis and we will need a compelling reason why we would need to.'

  I understood what they were telling me. There were too many crimes for the department to waste time analysing evidence from crimes that had no chance of a successful outcome. I would need to show them secondary evidence of Bartholomew's guilt, otherwise, some trace hair and fibre in my car would be dismissed in court as having been passed from my own clothing after my brush with him yesterday.

  I thanked them and moved away, wondered what I was going to do with my morning if I didn't have a car. Sitting at home watching daytime TV would not solve any cases or put money in my bank account. An account that relied entirely now on me solving cases.

  Patience had recovered from her shock and had come to see what I was up to. ‘Sooo, how was last night?’ she asked.

  I looked at her quizzically, then remembered that she knew I was having Brett come to stay for our first night together and was blissfully unaware that it had all gone south.

  ‘Rubbish.’ I answered. I gave her a minute to digest my response, then grinned at her. ‘We had to cancel. Remember I told you about the voodoo case?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ She replied suspiciously.

  ‘My client ran into some bother, so I fetched her, and she spent the night on my sofa.’

  ‘Patience was squinting her eyes at me. ‘Are you sure that was what happened? Are you sure that you didn’t just come up with a reason not to have that fine man in your bed?’

  I rolled my eyes. Then a thought occurred to me. 'Why are you here? Did your shift pattern change?’ Patience and I were on the same shift pattern, so I would have been due to have been on a night last night and would have been finished about half an hour ago and on my way home. Thus, Patience ought to be on her way home now.

  ‘I was going out the door when I heard about the snake in your car. It was all over the station. Someone asked if it was CI Quinn and Quinn heard them but didn’t see who it was, and no one would own up to it – as if anyone would be that daft. So, Quinn messed us around for a while and I was late leaving, and Brad offered me a lift into town because my car is in the shop and I need to pick it up. Why?’

  ‘It looks like my car is out of action for the next few hours and I need to go places.

  Why is your car in the shop?'

  ‘Had a minor collision.' Patience was one of those people that couldn't drive. Somehow, she had passed her driving test first time though and had gone on to pass the police advanced driving exam. Despite this, she hit something with her car at least once a month.

  ‘Can I borrow your car? Just until I get mine back?’

  ‘I have a better idea. I’ll come with you.’ She said. ‘I don’t have anything planned for today and I am not tired, and I have the next three days off.’

  ‘Okay, but I’m driving.’

  ‘It’s my car.’ She protested.

  I fixed her with a look and asked, ‘How many times have you crashed this month?’

  Her eyes went upwards while she did some basic maths. ‘Doesn’t matter.’ She decided. ‘It’s still my car.’

  ‘Okay, but if you hit anything. I am getting out and walking.’

  As it turned out, I didn't have to worry about Patience driving. We left Brad with the crime scene guys just as animal control were turning up. He was unhappy that we were abandoning him to go have fun while he minded my car – his words not mine. Patience and I just waved and blew kisses to annoy him as we walked away. Her car was in a garage about a half mile from my apartment. Down by the river, there were low rent business units, the sort of place that attracts low rent businesses. Patience needed to fix her car so often that she had to go to the low rent, low-cost guys.

  Her car wasn't ready though, which caused a heated discussion to ensue. Lots of discussions involving Patience were heated. She was just a fiery woman and she had a thing about verbally beating men up. When that didn't work she had threatened the man until he had given in and offered her a loan car. He refused to let her drive it though and would only let it go if it was my name on the paperwork as the driver. I guess he had fixed her car too many times.

  The loaner turned out to be his own two-year-old Mercedes E Class. I asked if he was sure he wanted to do this, but he smiled at me lecherously and attempted to peer down my top, making it obvious why I was being entrusted with his expensive car. I was tempted to let Patience drive it anyway. I took the keys, threw him a thank you with a little venom behind it and slid into the plush leather interior.

  ‘Where are we going?’ Patience wanted to know. ‘I could do with some breakfast.’

  ‘I’m going to the office. James was trying to tell me something earlier and I worry that he is cut off without Tempest here. I don’t want him trying to do too much on his own.’

  ‘Hold on. Didn’t the office burn down?’

  ‘Not that office. Tempest set everything up in his house until the place in Rochester can be rebuilt. There will be food there.’

  ‘Where is his house?’

  ‘Finchampstead.’

  ‘Oh. Okay then.' Patience relaxed into her seat. It would take no more than a few minutes to get to Finchampstead, her belly could wait that long. She started playing with the buttons on her chair. She sank toward the floor of the car. Then rose back up again. Then made the seat back fold backward. ‘Maybe I should get one of these.' She observed. ‘It sure is comfortable. And snazzy. What do you think the monthly payments are on one of these?'

  ‘So much that people would assume you were a prostitute or a drug dealer on the side.’

  ‘How come my mechanic can afford one then?’

  ‘Because you keep giving him all your money.’

  ‘Oh yeah.’

  The ride to Finchampstead and Tempest's house took seven minutes. James's little Ford Fiesta was parked on the driveway again. I eased the large black German sedan onto the drive next to it. It barely fitted. Tempest's drive always looked big to me, wide at least. But thinking about it now I acknowledged that I only ever saw it with his two-seater sports car and my mini on it.

  The front door was unlocked. ‘James.’ I called out going in. ‘It’s Amanda and Patience.’

  ‘In here.' His voice echoed back from the dining room/office.

  As always, James
was hunched over the computer doing something geeky.

  ‘Morning, James. You were trying to tell me something earlier. The police had just turned up with the forensics team to get the snake out of my car.’ I said by way of explanation for cutting him off.

  ‘No problem.’ He replied getting up. ‘I was about to make tea. Would you ladies like some tea?’

  ‘Patience needs some breakfast.' Patience said. At that announcement, her belly gave an audible rumble that sounded like distant thunder.

  ‘Oh, ah. I think Tempest more or less emptied the house of food when he left. There might be something in the freezer.’ James replied.

  I hadn't thought this through. Patience was eyeing me accusingly. ‘You said I could get breakfast here and drove by three different breakfast places to get here.'

  ‘None of them served healthy food, Patience. There is bound to be something here we can make you.’ I opened the freezer. ‘Look, lots of frozen fruit, vegetables and yoghurt. How about a smoothy?’

  ‘A smoothy?’

  James brushed by us to get to the kettle. The debate over what constituted breakfast, and what did not, went on for a while. Patience was very firmly in the camp that felt breakfast had to have some lard in it just to qualify. After a while, I promised to take her for breakfast somewhere when we left Tempest's house.

  ‘So, James. You found out something about Bartholomew trying to pick up girls?’ I prompted him to tell me more.

  ‘Yes, his friends suggested that he had some big plan for them, I was playing along and making out like I was in on it all and that got them talking. I started bragging about how cool it was that he cursed them when they wouldn't do as he asked, and I managed to get two names.'

  ‘Names for the girls?’

  ‘That's not all. I then found them on Meet Market by posing as a boy looking for a girl and messaging them using voodoo curse in my message headline.' He had made three teas already and was talking as he walked us back through the house to the office. He put his tea down and clicked the mouse. ‘Martine Davidsdottir and Louise Pemberton have both been on dates with Bartholomew and both broke up with him within a few weeks because he was scary. Both then suffered the same affliction as Kimberly after he showed up at their houses and cursed them.'

  ‘Great work, James. Next you are going to tell me you have addresses for them.’

  He reached to the printer and pulled off two sheets of paper. ‘Home and work addresses.’

  ‘You also said they referred to him as the Magdalene King.’

  ‘Um, they used the name, but I'm not certain they were referring to him. I printed those pages off as well in case you wanted them.' He juggled some paper on the desk until he found the pages he wanted then handed them over, so I could read them. Patience moved and peered over my shoulder.

  We each read the long conversations that James had had with several different men via social media. He had lulled them carefully into giving away lots of bits of information by doing exactly what he had said – he took one piece of information from one person and used it to make it look like he knew something when talking to the next. What stuck out was the use of the name Magdalene King which appeared a dozen times or more. At no point did it say directly that Bartholomew was the Magdalene King, but his last name was King, so it wasn't much of a leap to connect the two.

  The Magdalene King. Now that would be a collar.

  Patience's belly gave another loud rumble to remind me she wanted breakfast. I wondered if she was able to make it do that on command. I slurped my tea, it was still quite hot, but it was clear that I would have to find food for Patience soon or deal with a whole lot of mood from her.

  ‘James this is great.' I acknowledge, stuffing the pages into my bag. I will visit the girls this morning, if I can, and see what I can learn.' I finished my tea and walked the empty mug to the kitchen. ‘Patience are you with me?'

  ‘Patience isn’t with anyone until she gets fed.’ She answered snippily.

  ‘No problem. I will take you to get food now. You do realise though that if we catch the Magdalene King you will have closed the single biggest case the Maidstone Police department has ever had.' Her eyes bugged out. She had not been adding things up. With Tempest away, I needed an extra pair of hands. Besides, I was right. All I needed to do was solve the case for the client, Patience could have the arrest. I could see her thinking about it now.

  ‘Well, why didn't you say that to start with? Let's go, girl. We got a bad guy to catch.'

  We headed for the door, but James moved to intercept us. ‘There was one other thing I needed to tell you.’ He had our attention. ‘I have a date with Bartholomew tonight.’

  Crazy Dates and Safety Words. Tuesday, November 1st 1027hrs

  James had blurted the startling revelation out then stopped talking. Patience and I were just staring at him.

  ‘Say what?’ Patience asked.

  ‘I, ah. I went onto Meet Market to create a profile to find the girls Bartholomew had dated and then cursed. Then it occurred to me that if I created another profile as Jane I might be able to lure him into meeting somewhere. You said he keeps a large entourage with him, but I figured he might not take them on a date, so you would be able to get him alone.’ James was wringing his hands together waiting for me to say something, nervous that I might tell him he had done wrong.

  ‘That is genius.’ Was what I finally said. And it was. When he dressed as Jane he was utterly convincing. Apart from the flat chest, it was impossible to tell that it was boy beneath the blonde wig and makeup until he opened his mouth. If you looked close enough you might be able to see his Adam’s apple, but he tended to wear large floating scarfs that would cover it up and hang down to cover the lack of breasts.

  If we could get Bartholomew alone, we might be able to have a rational conversation with him. Or maybe, if we let the date play out a bit, Jane/James might find out something that would help to close the case – like what it was he wanted a girl for. If his friends were to be believed, he had an ulterior motive that was not sex. At least, it didn't sound like it was sex.

  ‘What time is your date?' I asked.

  ‘Eight o’clock at the George in the town centre.’ He meant Maidstone town centre. It was a nice bar that used to be a ratty old pub until someone bought it a few years ago, gutted it and transformed it into a wine and gin place. Now it was quite sleek, and because they did not serve beer at all, the regular crowd of loud, obnoxious boozers avoided it.

  ‘I think we can make this work, but it will need a little planning.’

  ‘You will need to change your outfit for a start.' Patience added unhelpfully. James was wearing black drainpipe jeans and a pair of new-looking back sports shoes. On top, he had on a white oxford shirt and a thin jumper. He looked like a man.

  ‘How long does it take to become Jane?’ I asked, being cautious about my words as I was not sure what he was sensitive about. Was the correct term transform? Or was it regenderfy? I had no idea.

  ‘About half an hour.’ He replied.

  ‘We should meet before you go so we can discuss your approach and when we swoop in if it becomes necessary.'

  ‘A safety word.’ Patience interjected.

  ‘Safety word?’

  ‘Yes, like when you are doing role play and need to stop it going too far.’ She explained while rolling her eyes at me. ‘I always give the boy a safety word so that he can bail out of character if I hurt him too much.’ She habitually made me feel like my sex life was boring or juvenile. I sometimes felt like asking her more about it but worried that my ears might start bleeding from the details.

  I pressed on, rather than dwell on her role play analogy. ‘Shall we say seven o'clock at my place?' I had Brett coming over, but I could push his arrival back a bit and not break the date for the second night in a row. Bartholomew knew my face, so it would be better for James/Jane if I stayed away from the venue. Patience could go though. I would ask her shortly, then convince her if I had t
o. Tempest often hired in Big Ben and others to bolster numbers when he needed them for a particular case, so I would only be doing the same. It felt like I was operating autonomously and doing exactly what Tempest would do.

  ‘That works for me.' James said. ‘I will get changed and come over ready to go.'

  ‘We need to do something about your voice.’

  Patience was right. James’s voice was a deep rumble from somewhere in his chest. He sounded nothing like a girl. ‘Can you make yourself sound like a girl?’ I asked.

  ‘I’m not sure.’ He replied in a squeaky falsetto. It would need some work. It was a major flaw in our plan if he was not allowed to speak. ‘I’ll work on it.’ He said, trying again. The second attempt was as bad as the first.

  ‘Make sure that you do.' Said Patience, then turned to me. ‘Girl are we ever getting breakfast?' It is nearly lunch time now.'

  ‘Goodbye ladies.’ Came a high squeak from behind us as we headed for the door. James sounded more like Mickey Mouse than anything else.

  Burgers for Breakfast. Tuesday, November 1st 1112hrs

  Patience's breakfast destination of choice was a burger bar in Aylesford that had been converted from an old petrol station. She was right in that it was closer to lunch than it was breakfast, but she was also right about the food. I had never even noticed the place before and must have driven by it dozens of times. Inside it was full of memorabilia from the fifties and sixties and an old Wurlitzer jukebox was playing tunes from that era. The waitresses were all dressed up with headscarves to hold their fake blond ringlet hairdos in place and had on hot pants and tight tee shirts. The place was almost full even though it was before noon on a Monday.

  I had gone into the place with no intention of eating, but now that I could smell the food I acknowledged that not only was I hungry, but I also really wanted to try one of the juicy burgers I had seen going by.