Blue Moon Investigations Ten Book Bundle

by steve higgs

  I was in the process of taking out my tape measure but stopped and gave her the long explanation of why I was at the restaurant, what I had heard and why I was now in her house. As I did so, I pointed out to both Tanya and Georgio that the floorboards were one continuous piece of wood running between the two premises. They went under the wall which had probably been put in decades ago when the large original building was subdivided into several smaller ones. This was not uncommon in old buildings and when one looked at the front façade from outside in the street, one could see that it had originally been one building.

  To test out my theory, I sent Georgio back to his restaurant while talking to him on my phone. With it on speaker, I advised him that I was moving across the floor in Tanya's room. Between us, we were able to prove that the noise from her room was travelling along the floorboards and manifesting as sounds in his upper dining room where the floorboards finally terminated and became the next floorboard. The faint sound of cello music was travelling through on the airwaves underneath the floor and would probably be inaudible if Georgio had background music playing.

  I thanked Tanya for her time and assistance and returned to the restaurant. Trudging back up the stairs to the upper dining room I had to pretend that my ribs didn’t hurt from the effort of just moving around. Lyndon was nowhere to be seen and his equipment was gone. Frank was still there though, so I chucked him a quick wave before heading over to Mr. Fenucci to conclude matters.

  My advice to him was to get a builder in to fix the floor. He seemed very relieved that the ghost was nothing more than noise from next door and happy that he would be able to easily fix the problem. I could offer no worthwhile guidance on what a builder might do or even charge for such a remedy, yet it seemed likely it would be a simple task. We shook hands, I told him my final bill would be through in a couple of days and he told me my dinner was on the house. I, of course, said that his gesture was not necessary but offered little resistance when he insisted.

  I checked my watch: 2037hrs. My carpaccio was stone cold having been left for most of an hour, but then it was supposed to be, so I ate it. Tucking in, I acknowledged how hungry I was.

  ‘Well done, Tempest,’ said Frank who was sat opposite me at the table for four.

  ‘That is very generous of you, Frank.’ I could not remember Frank ever admitting that I had proven him wrong before. I felt no need to score a point though, so I let it pass. ‘What happened to Lyndon?’

  ‘He got a call from another client and had to rush off. He was not being paid to attend this case anyway.’ Frank mentioning phone calls reminded me that I had not looked at my phone since I arrived at the restaurant. It was tucked in my bag next to my chair and had been there while I was solving the case. I picked it up now and checked it.

  I had Seven missed calls. All from Sophie. I hung my head in defeat.

  This was the task that I could not remember. I had known there was something, but for some reason, it had not occurred to me that it might be a social engagement that I had forgotten. I genuinely sucked at dating girls. The last call was more than an hour ago. I switched to the text messages as there was an icon there showing me that four texts had been received. The texts started with a polite message at 1745hrs saying that she had not heard from me but that she was expecting me in an hour so was assuming I was coming and would be ready. The next message was a few minutes after I should have picked her up, checking that everything was okay. The next a few minutes after that, advised that I had better be able to provide a worthwhile explanation for standing her up two days in a row. The final message instructed me to do something quite improbable with a parsnip.

  I needed to call her, so I excused myself and went out into the street where no one I knew would be able to hear the lady at the other end of the line screaming obscenities at me.

  Sophie answered on the third ring. She did not take long to start berating me. ‘You've got some nerve calling me now, Tempest Michaels. I have never been stood up in my life, but you think you can leave me sitting in my house like an idiot, two days in a row.' It went on like that for a bit, so for brevity, I shall just say that I attempted to speak several times but never got more than half a word out before she launched into the next tirade.

  After what felt like several minutes she finally ran out of steam and demanded I explain myself.

  I took a breath, paused to see if she was going to start yelling again and simply said, ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Sorry? Sorry! Is that all you have got? Were you out with another woman? Is that it? Are you a player, Tempest?’

  ‘As if I could ever be that lucky,’ shouted Mr Wriggly

  I ignored the voice from my pants. ‘Sophie, I owe you an apology. I do not deny it and I have no wish to further bore you with my excuses. I am in Faversham on a case. I cannot explain why or how I managed to forget our date but would like to claim that I go on dates so rarely that when I was called to this case it did not occur to me that I might have other plans.’ So far, she had allowed me to speak. I pressed on. ‘My intentions are unchanged. I would still very much like to meet you for dinner this week.’ She hung up on me.

  I looked at my phone accusingly. How was it that I managed to screw up my social life every time it threatened to get interesting? The phone went away in a pocket as I trudged back into the restaurant. Frank was still sat where I had left him.

  ‘How are you getting home?’ I asked him.

  ‘I came in my own car. Lyndon asked if I wanted to go with him on the next case, but I said I would wait here for you. How did you know it was not a ghost?’ he asked.

  I poured more of the sparkling water into my tumbler and drank it. The ice was long gone but it was refreshing, nevertheless. ‘Frank, my dear fellow,' I started. I wanted to explain once again that there are no ghosts, but I liked Frank the way he was – completely bonkers. In some way, his unshakable belief complemented my clinically sane examination of the facts. I started again, ‘Frank not every bump in the night is a ghost. Not every bite is a werewolf, not every disease inflicted is a curse placed by a witch. This was just some loose floorboards in an old building. To me it was obvious.'

  He nodded his head thoughtfully. Behind him Mr. Fenucci himself appeared carrying two pizzas; Frank had ordered himself one as well. ‘Here you are, gentlemen. One Sicilian and one Fruits de Mer. On the house. You are very welcome.' He placed them in front of us with a flourish, looking like a man who had recently received wonderful news.

  Steam was rising from them, bringing the scent of warm bread, melting cheese, garlic, herbs and other wonderful food smells with it. The pizzas did not last long.

  Frank and I enjoyed a pleasant evening meal together. Even though we sat in very different camps when it came to the paranormal world, and it was a constant topic of conversation for us as both our professions centred on it, we were able to discuss business and other subjects with mutual respect.

  Neither one of us wanted to hang around after we had eaten, so I bade him and Georgio good evening and headed for home. The roads were empty, which allowed me to enjoy the throaty roar of my German sports car's straight six, tuned, three-litre engine. I arrived home, to find the two dogs happy to see me but just as happy to follow me upstairs to bed once they had taken a quick trip around the garden.

  My bed beckoned.

  The Blue Moon Office. Tuesday, October 25th 0922hrs

  I slept badly. The injury to my ribs woke me every time I moved. At 0312hrs I forced myself reluctantly from my warm bed to find the painkillers in my bag downstairs. Once their numbing effect took hold, I drifted away, but adding all the sleep together I had probably achieved less than five hours and I was tired when I got to work.

  I arrived late. It was perhaps the first time I could remember being late anywhere since I was a teenager: the army beat the concept of lateness out of a person very quickly. Jane was oblivious though and when I arrived, she was typing up the invoice to Mr. Fenucci because I had sent her an email about th
e case before I got into bed last night.

  My plan for the day was to start looking at the Klown case for my new clients, the clowns. Frank had furnished me with a pack of information but when he had outlined it last night it was all about demons that were recorded as having manifested as clowns at some point in the past and one or two demi-gods that had done much the same. It seemed unlikely to be helpful to me since I was certain this was a gang of cretins with criminal intentions.

  Instead of looking into demons and demi-gods, I was going to research the victims thus far, examine the locations of Klown attacks and see what I could patch together from the available information. Amanda had been on a shift last night that had ended at 0300hrs and had promised to be in by lunchtime to offer her assistance. She was bringing information with her as the name of the murder victim from two nights ago had not yet been officially released.

  For the next ninety minutes, Jane and I sat at the computer desk trawling through data on the attacks. There were numerous news articles, each of which allowed us to look at the information from a slightly different angle. We printed off a map of Kent and plotted the attacks as dots on it and looked into the people that had been targeted. Each of the people that had been chased or hurt appeared to have nothing in common until I found two women that had gone to the same school. They lived in very different areas now – one in Paddock Wood and one in Headcorn. Jane had been printing photographs of the victims and attaching each to an A4 sheet on which she had typed details such as age, location, occupation, time and nature of Klown attack. Thus far the two women were the only ones with a connection.

  A couple of hours slipped past unnoticed when I heard the bottom office door open. Amanda called out as she came up the stairs. Coming into the office, she looked more radiant than ever; her smile welcoming but crushing my soul at the same time. Was it the influence of her boyfriend Brett making her glow? They had been dating for a couple of weeks now, so I had to categorise them as a couple. In many ways, it made life easier for me. I was not going to pursue a woman that was already involved with someone else.

  ‘Good morning, Amanda,’ Jane and I said almost simultaneously.

  ‘Hey, guys. Whatcha doing?' she asked. She was carrying three cups of coffee in a handy four cup cardboard holder. Each one had a name on it. ‘Ladies first,' she said as she handed one labelled Jane to Jane then took hers and handed the holder to me. I gratefully lifted mine and took a sip. It was strong and sweet with just the right amount of milky foam on top. The holder went into the bin by the desk as Amanda walked over to the wall where Jane was still pinning photographs.

  ‘The murder victim,’ Amanda started. ‘His name was released an hour ago, did you get it already?’

  ‘No, not yet,’ I answered.

  ‘Matthew Barrow, aged twenty-nine and resident of Igtham.’ She put her coffee down to extract a notebook from her handbag. ‘Unmarried. No children. Worked as a postman. No reason for the attack that the police can see.’

  ‘Matthew Barrow,’ repeated Jane as she typed the name into a search engine and started looking into the man.

  ‘Did anyone see anything?’ I asked her.

  ‘No. No witnesses to the crime, but CCTV at a pub around the corner caught a shot of Klowns in a van driving away and they sprayed their usual message in his house.’

  ‘What message?’ Jane wanted to know.

  ‘The Klowns are coming,’ answered Amanda.

  ‘Oh, that.’ Jane said as she carried on working at the computer.

  ‘Tempest, I only have a couple of hours. They are keeping us all busy and threatening extra shifts. The Klown attacks are attracting a lot of unwanted attention so we are patrolling and investigating and being kept generally quite active. My shift last night was twelve hours and I need a nap before I go back for my next shift. What shall we do?’

  ‘What shall we do? Honestly? I have no idea. Jane and I are starting to pull together some details, but I don’t really know where to start other than by learning all there is to know. I cannot imagine that I am doing anything that the police are not. ‘

  ‘This would not be the first case you had solved while the police scratched their collective heads.’ Amanda’s point was accurate but not necessarily part of a trend. I had got lucky a couple of times.

  ‘Have the police interviewed all of the Klown attack victims?’ I asked her.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Did they learn anything?’

  ‘Nothing that was of any use so far.’

  I thought on that for a moment. ‘Maybe we should have a chat with them ourselves. Jane do we have contact details for any of them?’

  ‘Not yet,’ she said without looking up from the screen. ‘It will not take me long to find them though.’

  ‘Let’s do that.’ My stomach growled at me. ‘You want some lunch, ladies? I need to get a sandwich or something.’

  ‘I brought food with me, thank you though,’ replied Jane.

  ‘Hey, I’m in. Where are we going for food?’ asked Amanda. ‘I am hungry.’

  The two us of settled on a tearoom a few doors along from us. Rochester has an abundance of places to eat and a booming tourist industry which is drawn there because of the old High Street, the castle and cathedral and the fact that Dickens lived there for much of his adult life. The tourist industry supported the vast array of tea rooms and restaurants so that even on a Tuesday there might be limited choice of where to sit.

  At the bottom of the stairs, I held the door open for Amanda and closed it behind her. We turned left and emerged onto the High Street.

  Before we went two paces, I touched Amanda’s arm and said quietly, ‘We are being watched.’

  Amanda froze beside me at my announcement. ‘Where?’

  ‘Two hoodies across the road.' In the crowd of people, they stood out because they were the only ones not doing anything. There were other people stood stationary but those were engaged in conversation, or texting, or looking in shop windows. Between the people moving in all directions, these two were facing the office and staring right at it. We could not see their faces though as they both wore oversize hoodies that were pulled right up to hide them.

  They realised they had been spotted as I directed Amanda’s gaze towards them. I was setting off in their direction, assuming it was what they would not expect – few run directly towards a threat which is why it is almost always the right thing to do. However, if my move confused them at all it did not show. They threw back their hoods to reveal Klown make-up beneath.

  A woman about to pass in front of the Klowns screamed and suddenly all eyes were on them. The crowd freezing as if caught in time.

  Amanda and I were advancing across the street towards them, our estimated time of arrival at their location was about three seconds. Less if they came towards us.

  ‘You are both under arrest,' shouted Amanda as she brandished her police ID. She followed up with instructions to get on their knees, but as expected, neither one paid her any attention.

  ‘I’ll get the girl,’ the one on the left said, smiling an evil, awful smile. He started towards us, but his colleague, accomplice… however you wanted to think of him, stuck out an arm to bar his way. ‘Hold on. How come you get to deal with Miss Sexy Tits, and I get the bloke that looks like he just left the gym?’ he asked.

  ‘Well…’ his colleague started only to be cut off again.

  ‘You actually have to walk in front of me to get to her. Why don’t you fight the guy that we came here for since he is right in front of you and I will have a quick wrestle with Lady Funbags. It shouldn’t take long, then I’ll give you a hand,’ he said as he began to advance on Amanda.

  ‘I don’t think so, dickface. Haven’t you just spent all morning telling me all about how you were going to show him how tough you were.’ The two were staring at each other now, almost chest to chest. ‘I distinctly remember you saying that you were going to give him a beating he would not forget. Now it’s fighting time and
suddenly you are all afraid.’

  ‘Are you looking to get a beating first? How about I slap you silly then deal with the target and then maybe take little lady love bumps for a date somewhere,’ he said, poking his colleague in the chest.

  ‘Try it,’ the other one instructed, grabbing hold of a handful of sweater.

  ‘I think that’s about enough with the boob comments,’ Amanda announced sounding bored. ‘Let’s get this done.’ She threw her bag to an empty bench a few feet away and cracked her knuckles.

  It brought the Klowns attention back to us. Their argument dissolved instantly and they both came for me, but they only took a pace before they stopped again. ‘Hold on,’ said the one on the right, bringing a halt to proceedings once more. ‘We forgot the message.’

  ‘Oh yeah. The message,’ acknowledged his companion.

  ‘He wanted you to know that all that has happened and all that will come to pass after we kill you could have been avoided if you had just kept your nose out.' He looked across to his mate. ‘Did I miss anything?'

  ‘Yeah. Time to die,’ he sneered and once again they both came at me.

  I looked for weapons. Neither was holding anything that I could see but then the distance between us was gone and it was too late to do anything other than fight. I was pre-injured, if that is even a word, so I let the Klown come to me, hoping he would commit to a punch or kick that I could convert into a hold and incapacitate him. As Amanda and I had closed the distance to them, I had sized them up. They were both taller and heavier than me and the one on the left as we faced them was the taller and heavier of the pair. With Amanda on my left, she had drawn the straw to deal with him and the bit of my brain that always wanted to protect women had been telling me to somehow swap with her. There was no time for such things and even if there had been, she was likely to deal with this better than I anyway. They both went for me though as if Amanda was of no consequence and soon learned what a mistake that was. As I met with the Klown closest to me, I noted that his comrade suddenly vanished from sight when Amanda removed his legs.