by steve higgs
We were led to a booth and handed menus to peruse by a woman that was chewing gum and looked like she had been serving tables for fifty years. ‘Have you eaten here before?' I asked Patience. She had already put her menu down and looked ready to order.
‘I’m having the double happy burger. What are you having? You should try the buttermilk chicken waffle burger. They served the chicken breast in batter and served between two sticky potato waffles. Not the cheap kind you get in the frozen aisle. These are made here on the premises.’ Patience was describing the food with reverent awe.
The waitress came back and there were simply too many options on the menu for me to decide for myself. I followed Patience’s advice and ordered the chicken thing. While we waited, I picked up the subject of Jane’s date tonight.
‘Are you free to go to the George with Jane tonight?' I explained that I could not go because of the danger that Bartholomew would spot me, but she seemed less than convinced that this was something she wanted to do. Even the offer of payment did little to sway her.
Then a thought occurred to me, ‘Big Ben offered to help out if I needed him on my cases…’ I had her attention now. ‘Maybe I should ask him to come with you.’ I left that idea hanging for a moment. Before she could answer our burgers arrived.
And they looked good.
Patience wasn't touching hers though. Halfway through lifting mine to my mouth I stopped. I realised that Patience was stunned because, despite her claims regarding the matter, she genuinely liked Big Ben. She was in like with him. I doubted she would admit it to me. She might not even admit it to herself, but right this instant she was thinking about the concept of a date with him and it was sufficient to distract her from the juicy burger that she had been hankering for just a few moments ago.
I took a bite of mine, ‘Eat your burger.’ I said around the delicious meat. ‘I’ll call him when we leave here.’ I had misgivings about her seeing him, certainly about her pursuing him as he was basically a dog in permanent heat, but she was a grown woman and could make her own rules.
Patience looked like she wanted to say something. Maybe to deny that she was thinking about him, but instead, she grabbed her burger as if she had only just noticed it was there and took a large bite from it. Grease spilled on her chin.
‘So, what’s your next move?’ she asked when she had cleared her mouth.
‘Jane was not able to get a number for the two girls she found via Meet Market, so I am going to have to track them down physically. I am willing to bet that they are both at work, so I will try their work addresses first. If I strike out, I can go to their homes tonight.' I took another bite of my chicken burger and snagged a few fries.
Patience finished her burger. I was still only two thirds through mine. She was holding up greasy fingers and looking for a fresh napkin as she had already killed hers. I passed her mine.
Something tickled my hand and I looked down to see a tiny spider crawling across it. Instantly icky, I shook my hand to free myself of the creature and sent it flying across to the next table where it landed on a fat sandwich about to go into a man’s mouth. Before I could react, he ate it.
Patience saw it too. I averted my gaze in case anyone else had seen. It was not like I had done it deliberately. Then the man started choking. He was in his sixties and badly overweight, his stick-thin wife opposite him, nibbling at her own sandwich, now looking at him with a worried expression as he was clearly not able to breathe.
He was making gagging noises as he tried to do something about the blockage in his throat but was getting nowhere and starting to change colour. All around him people were looking his way but doing nothing.
‘Heimlich.' I cried as I sprung from my chair. ‘Sir, I need you to stand up.' Tugging at his sleeve got his attention. I couldn't get behind him as he was wedged into a booth, so I had to get him out to get my arms around him.
He weighed a ton and was barely supporting his own weight by the time I managed to get my fists into his ribcage and heave. A colossal chunk of meat was ejected from his throat to land in his wife's lap. As he started to breathe again, a round of applause rippled about the room and the manager, who had just arrived at our table, shook my hand and thanked me for my first aid skills. Our meal was on the house it seemed.
At our table, Patience was white as a sheet, her mouth hanging open in horror. ‘That spider was meant for you.' She squeaked.
I stayed with the man until I was sure he was okay. When he went back to eating his sandwich I decided he probably was. Ten minutes later we were back in the car and heading for the business district of Kings Hill.
‘That spider was sent to kill you.’ Patience said.
‘What? How does a spider get sent to kill someone?’
‘I saw it on an old James Bond film. The one with Roger Moore and all the voodoo. They send a snake or something to get him. The snake is under the voodoo priest’s control, so it does what he tells it.’
‘Patience it was just a little spider.’
‘So why did the man instantly choke on it?’
‘He choked on his sandwich.’ I was trying to keep my voice calm in contrast to hers which was bouncing around like the world was going to end any moment. The spider was a coincidence, nothing more.’
We lapsed into silence as I turned the car onto the West Malling bypass heading West away from Maidstone.
The work address for Louise Pemberton was in the business district there, where I knew many large firms housed their national HQs. The purpose-built, and very nicely landscaped layout provided lots of parking and large low-rise office buildings that wowed customers without the firm needing to worry about managing their own facility. I knew all this because I had gone there with others to arrest people several times and had once sat waiting with a secretary that had told me all about it.
Louise worked for a firm that made carpets. Not that they had any in the office where she worked, the office was for administrative functions such as HR and accounting. A pleasant, middle-aged lady in the reception area asked us if we had an appointment.
‘No, ma’am.’ I answered. ‘We are private investigators. I have just a couple of questions for Louise if she can spare us a few minutes.’
The lady picked up her phone to call through to her. ‘Please tell her this is pertaining to Bartholomew King.’ I advised hoping that would get her attention.
We sat to wait on expensive-looking chrome and leather chairs. However, a young lady came into reception from the office area less than a minute later looking for us. She was tall and blonde with some Asian heritage showing around her eyes.
I stood up to introduce myself and hand her a card. ‘Amanda Harper, thank you for seeing us. This is my colleague Patience Woods.'
‘This is about Bartholomew?’ she asked. I nodded, and she invited us through to a breakout area in the corner of their plush open-plan office.
‘I’ll try not to take up too much of your time, Louise. My client recently met with Bartholomew via a dating website, but when she rejected him after a first date he pretended to curse her with a voodoo spell.’
‘Let me guess: Her hair began to fall out and her teeth and gums bled, that sort of thing?’
‘Exactly right.’
‘The same thing happened to me. I met him on Meet Market about two months ago. He was handsome and charming to talk to over the internet, but face to face he was just creepy after a while. We went on three dates and when I ended it on the third date by politely saying I did not wish to see him anymore, that I did not feel we were compatible, he went nuts. We were in a restaurant and he blew some kind of weird grey powder at me. He put his hand in his pocket, did some odd chant thing then blew into his hand and out came all this fine ash or something. He told me I was cursed to be ugly and that the curse would remain in place until I changed my mind. I haven't been on a date with anyone since.'
‘Did you suffer any symptoms? Hair falling out that sort of thing?’
‘Ye
s, hair loss, gums bleeding, a sudden outbreak of spots. It freaked me out for a while and I thought that I was seeing him. Bartholomew, I mean. I would spot him from my car on the way to work, just staring at me from a pedestrian crossing or he would be in the supermarket on my way home like he was there by coincidence. He didn't approach me ever. I felt that he was waiting for me to approach him to beg forgiveness, so he would lift the curse or something.'
‘Your hair and skin look fine now. What happened?'
‘I took a week off and went to stay with my gran in Scarborough. I thought that he would get bored of stalking me if he couldn't find me. I also went to a chemist and asked them about the problems I was having and got a whole new range of toiletries that were free of perfume and other additives. The Free From range. Have you heard of it?'
I nodded that I had.
‘Well, it cleared all the problems up within two days. I returned after a week away and have not seen Bartholomew King since and had not heard his name nor given him any thought until you arrived today.'
‘Do you think you were cursed?’ Patience asked.
‘I don’t know what to think.’ Louise answered. ‘It seems like nonsense, but he puts on a convincing act.’
Beside me, Patience was all but hyperventilating. ‘Is your friend alright?' Louise asked. The answer to that would depend on what we were comparing her to. I ignored her and moved on.
Louise had nothing much more to tell us and I had a theory that this went some way to confirm. I elected to leave the second lady, for now, I had more pressing lines of enquiry to pursue and felt it likely that her tale would very much resemble Louise's.
Heading back down the bypass to the motorway, I asked Patience if she was doing okay.
‘Not really. I think I should go for a lie-down.' She replied.
‘Patience this isn’t really voodoo. It’s just clever tricks and some luck. He is relying on people’s superstition to make it seem real.’
‘Girl, you got cursed with spiders and snakes and now they are everywhere and trying to kill you. Those other girls got cursed with ugly and their hair fell out. It all seems pretty friggin' real to me. When your hip or shoulder or back starts hurting later – that's going to be him sticking pins in a voodoo doll. Patience has had enough. Patience wants to go home.'
‘I thought you were going to help me catch the Magdalene King and get the biggest bust ever.’
‘Not if it gets me cursed I’m not.’
‘How about if I prove how he is doing it? I am taking you back to Kimberly’s house, so we can check something there.’
‘What?’ she asked.
‘Her toiletries. Bartholomew is a chemist. He got a double first at Oxford and his parents are both chemists. If I wanted to make a person’s hair fall out, how would I achieve that?’
‘Cast a voodoo spell?’ she hazarded.
‘Or perhaps just put something into her shampoo that would make it fall out all by itself. Same thing with her teeth and gums and the same thing with her skin. I need to get all the toiletries from her house and get the crime scene guys to check them for me.’
Kimberly's House. Tuesday, November 1st 1257hrs
Patience was tired from her shift and wanted me to drop her at her house on my way to Kimberly's. It was not much of a detour. Once I had done so, I called Big Ben.
‘Hotstuff.’ He answered.
‘Benjamin.’ I replied, resignation in my voice because he was going to keep calling me Hotstuff or toots or something until I gave up and accepted it. ‘Are you available tonight? I need you for a stakeout in a bar.’
‘What time and will there be girls there? Forget I asked. If I go there, girls will arrive shortly afterward.'
I rolled my eyes. ‘Actually, Patience is going. We are tailing the voodoo guy and he knows what I look like so I cannot go. Patience was a little reluctant but the two of you will just look like you are on a date. It is in the George.'
‘Patience, huh. Still trying to get a second bite at the cherry.’
‘Well, she will be clocking hours for the business the same as you so don’t worry about it. She will be there to work.’
‘How do you know he will be there?’ Fair question.
‘He has a date with Jane.' At the other end of the phone, I heard spluttering.
‘You made me choke on my tea.’ For a second I thought you meant Tempest’s assistant.’
‘I do. Jane set herself up on a dating website and now has a date with him tonight.’
‘Is she planning to use hand signals? She looks convincing but there is no disguising her voice.’
‘Yeah, I’m a little worried about that myself. She might have to pretend she is mute or something.’
‘Well, it is going to be entertaining if nothing else. I’m in.’
‘Jane is meeting him there at eight o’clock and we are meeting at mine at seven to go through planning and emergency escape if necessary.’
‘Seven at yours. See you then.’
We disconnected just as I was pulling up outside Kimberly's place. I looked around to see if Terrance and Trevor were anywhere in sight. They were not, and I was in a different car, so I hoped I would be able to get in and out without another showdown.
I had taken a key from Kimberly last night just I case I needed it for anything and to make sure that she was not tempted to go back there for anything she might decide she could not do without.
Walking up the path to her building, I saw that a window was open in what I judged would be her bedroom. She must have forgotten to shut it. I let myself in through her front door then froze. I could hear movement coming from somewhere inside the flat.
I crept forward into the central living area. It was open-plan like mine but there was no sign of life. Then a man in a balaclava walked out of her bathroom. There was a half second when we just stared at each other, then my phone rang in my bag and like it was a starting gun, we both burst into action simultaneously. More from habit than anything else I yelled a Police instruction to stop. Pretty much like everyone else that heard the instruction to stop, he just kept on going. He hurdled the couch, bolting for the bedroom and was out the window before I got anywhere near him. He was slick and fast. I followed him out the same window, dropped to the ground and ran in the direction I had seen him disappear. The Magdalene Estate was a rabbit warren of pathways and alleyways that he knew better than me. I lost him no sooner than I attempted to give chase.
Out of breath from the sudden adrenalin and exertion, I staggered back to Kimberly's flat. I had left the door open, which I now shut, and had thrown my handbag somewhere when I rushed after Bartholomew. I needed my phone so that I could call this in. I could not identify the man, but I was certain it was Bartholomew.
My bag had skidded under a coffee table and was not visible which gave rise to a brief flutter of panic when I could not find it and worried it had been stolen. The missed call was from the forensics lab, I called him back.
It was Steve that answered. ‘Forensics.’
‘Steve, it’s Amanda. I have a missed call from the lab.’
‘Oh, Hi, Amanda. We have finished with your car. It is still outside your house.’
‘Oh, good. I have another job for you though. I am at a client’s house. I think the same man that put a snake in my car also broke in here. I need you to test the chemical composition of some toiletries. Can you do that?’
‘Can we? Well, yes. It is what we do. But we are rather backed up currently. How soon do you need results?’
‘This evening?’ I asked hopefully.
‘Ha!’ he scoffed. ‘Look, Amanda, if you can bring the things you want me to check, I will do what I can, but if you need us to come to you I will lose more time.’
I thought about it. I really wanted to have this place swept for prints. ‘Will you be able to lift prints from shampoo bottles and that sort of thing?’
‘Probably yes.’
‘Okay then. I will be with you in half an
hour.’
‘Super. By then I should have your fingerprints from this morning checked. If they are in the database, we will be able to ID them.’
I went through to Kimberly's bedroom to shut the window before I forgot to do so, then went around the house making sure everything was secure. I was not carrying any evidence bags but in her kitchen drawers, I found a roll of freezer bags. Using sausage tongs from another drawer I carefully took all her toiletries and packed each one into a different bag. I had twenty-six bags when I was done.
I put them all into two carrier bags I found stuffed into a box in a utility cupboard then locked up once more as I left.
Had I seen Bartholomew King? Was he the Magdalene King? Maybe. I needed to speak with CI Quinn.
Maidstone Police Station. Tuesday, November 1st 1412hrs
True to his word, Simon had the fingerprints analysed by the time I got there. Unfortunately, they were all mine.
‘Most of the prints we lifted were partials and from the driver's side. Around the door handle and places where one might expect to get a print they were mostly smudged.'
‘Like you would get if the person last using the door handle was wearing gloves.'
‘Exactly.’
Simon wandered over to join us. ‘What’s in the bags?’ he asked.
I held them up. ‘Twenty-six different toiletry products that I believe may have been tampered with.’ I explained about the case I was investigating and my theory about Bartholomew putting something in her shampoo to make her hair fall out and something in her toothpaste to make her gums bleed.
They both nodded then Simon held out his hands to take the bags from me.
‘The lady wants answers today.’ Steve pointed out.
‘Ha!’ scoffed Simon. ‘Fat chance of that.’
‘Can you just do a fingerprint check on one bottle for me?' Simon's expression was pained. He wanted to say no, but I could see he was wrestling with saying yes. ‘Please.' I added with a lot of sugar on it.
‘Dammit.’ He swore. ‘Okay, but just because it is you. Which bottle?’