by steve higgs
Old Dears Home, Tonbridge. Thursday, October 27th 1207hrs
The address was easy to find. I had a rough idea where it was from checking the map on the wall before I left, and the satnav did the rest. I found myself checking my rear-view mirror searching for a car that might be tailing me. I saw a Silver Mondeo at one point but no sooner had I spotted it than it pulled into a petrol station.
We arrived at the destination, there was parking around the back, so I followed the signs, putting the car in a space with room either side of it. The Dachshunds were up and excited, climbing all over Basic in the passenger’s seat to look out the windows. They knew they had arrived somewhere.
I was fairly confident that I would be able to find and quiz Mrs. Wilkins provided I could bluff my way past whatever guard dog they had on the front desk. I expected a voice entry system attached to a buzzer at the front door, something I would have to negotiate in order to get inside the building. Luck was on my side though. It was the kind of assisted living where the Old Dears got to come and go as they pleased. They had separate accommodation inside, much like living in an Army barracks where the rooms were private but joined by central interior corridors. Each had a kitchenette and they were able to cater for themselves. Two of the residents were returning from a nearby shop as Basic and I rounded the front corner of the building being led by the two Dachshunds.
‘Ooh look, Mavis. Look at the sausages.’ said the first, trying to nudge the second with an arm weighed down by her bags.
Hearing her, the two dogs instantly diverted their route to intercept hers. I was holding the dog leads but Basic, the wonderful soul that he was, darted forward offering to carry their bags the rest of the way to their accommodation.
They appeared to be deliberating. Basic, while harmless and good-natured was also hulking and a little scruffy. ‘Good afternoon, Ladies.' I greeted them as the dogs closed the final few feet. I held them back as they were ready to climb the ladies' legs for attention. ‘We are just popping in to see Edna Wilkins. James will carry your bags to your rooms if you wish.'
Mavis was too interested in the dogs to give it any further consideration, perhaps she judged that we were unlikely to be there to steal her fruit loaf and tea bags. Whatever the case she handed her bags to Basic without looking at him and bent her knees as far as they would go so she could reach down and pat the dogs. Her friend, the one that had spoken first did likewise.
It was an old ploy of mine, old ladies liked little dogs, they were easily swayed by them. Before they knew what they were doing, they had entered the door code and walked us inside the building. We chatted amiably as we followed them to their rooms, talking about the dogs – Mavis had owned a Dachshund as a child, and about Edna and how we knew her. I had to lie at that point. Sticking to vagaries, I claimed I had grown up with her as a neighbour and that she had been kind to me. My tactic avoided the potential pitfall of claiming I was her grandson only to discover that her friends knew that she had no children.
Mavis and Coleen, we learned the other lady’s name when Mavis addressed her, led us to a day room where they said we would most likely find Edna watching TV with some of the other residents. They were right, although I had a brief moment of panic when we went in as I realised I didn’t know what she looked like. Thankfully, Coleen called out to bring Edna’s attention to her visitors.
‘Hi, Edna.' I tried hopefully. My hope was based quite cruelly on the concept that there might be some memory issues going on. All the residents looked to be in their eighties or beyond. The youngest might be in her late seventies.
‘Oh, hello.’ replied Edna, not even looking up at me. The dogs were far too interesting as they buzzed around her feet. I selected Dozer as the dopier and more cuddly choice, picked him up and deposited him upside down on her lap. He stayed there with her tickling his belly, his head back and his eyes closed.
It took a while, but in the end, one by one, the other ladies drifted away. Bargain Hunt was about to start, it was lunchtime, various reasons to be elsewhere. Now that it was just Edna and me, since Basic had found a Smurfs jigsaw puzzle to play with, I figured it was time to come clean and tell her why I was there.
‘So, young man. Would you like to tell me why you are here?’ she asked. The old bird was as sharp as a tack. She had pegged me right from the start. ‘Nice move bringing the dogs. Are they yours or did you hire them? I assume you are a reporter of some kind.’ She fixed me with a stare that demanded I tell the truth. I remembered then that she had been a school teacher for most of her life.
‘Mrs. Wilkins, my apologies for the subterfuge. My name is Tempest Michaels, I am an investigator looking into the Klown case.' I omitted the paranormal bit, it tended to just confuse people. ‘I hoped to ask you a few questions about the attack. Would that be acceptable?'
‘To what end, Mr. Michaels?'
‘I intend to stop the Klowns. I think the Police are looking in the wrong place and I have been targeted twice myself, so I have a vested interest in finding out who they are and what they are up to.’
‘Well, Mr. Michaels I will tell you what I know. I already told the Police everything though, so I am not sure what help I can be.'
‘Specifically, I want to know why they would target you.’
‘The Police said it was random.’
‘That is the bit I think they have wrong. I believe it is not random, which means they came after you as part of a plan. The question is why? Why are you linked to them?
Edna stared at me blank-faced. ‘What did they say to you? I know it must be awful to think about it, I apologise for bringing up the memory.’
‘What did they say while they were kicking me?' I felt awful pressing her to consider it again in detail. ‘They didn't say much at all. One of them though. He said… he said, "Today's lesson is pain, Mrs. Wilkins." I had not given it any consideration until now, but now that I think about it, I would always start my lessons by saying "Today's lesson is…" and then telling them what we were going to learn.
‘You think maybe this Klown, the one that spoke, was one of your students once?’
She shrugged. ‘I guess that makes sense.'
‘Was there a boy that sticks out as being one that would hold a grudge against you?’
She frowned at me as if the question was unacceptable. ‘Mr. Michaels, I was a teacher for fifty-seven years with thirty or so new students every year. Regrettably, when I started, way back in the late fifties it was perfectly acceptable, even expected for the teacher to whack a child if they stepped out of line. It was the late eighties before this really changed so there will be hundreds of children that might hold a grudge.'
Dozer was still upside down on her lap, snoring gently. She scratched his chest a little, her face thoughtful. I kept silent, waiting for her to coalesce her thoughts into… something. A name would be useful.
Nothing came though and soon I realised she had fallen asleep. I collected Dozer gently from her lap and clipped him back to his lead as he blearily came awake. Tapping Basic gently on the shoulder and with a finger to my lips we left Edna sleeping peacefully in her chair and let ourselves out.
That the Klowns had delivered a message, even if she had not comprehended its meaning, had to mean something. The messages the Klowns delivered to me had felt personal. I didn't understand them, but now I wanted to know how many others had been given similar messages as they were stabbed or beaten or robbed? It was a question I intended to have answered.
As we pulled out of the carpark my phone was ringing. The screen in my car claimed it was Big Ben calling.
‘Hey, buddy.’ I said as the call connected.
‘Tempest. Get me out of here.’ he was whispering.
‘Ben? What going on?’
‘I’ve escaped. They are probably looking for me. I need you to come to the hospital and get me now.’ his whispering voice was still able to convey a tone of desperation.
‘I thought you were enjoying yourself there, wor
king through all the lady staff.’
‘Yeah, well, I was. Now they are starting to fight over me, arguing about whose turn it is. I think they have a roster up somewhere. The food is awful, even on the private plan they have put me on, and I am getting so much action I actually think that my dick is starting to erode.' I was finding it hard to feel sorry for him.
‘I am in the car with Basic. I cannot collect you – only two seats. Get a taxi?’ I tried, helpfully.
‘No money. I had to leave without getting my things. I don’t know where they are and when I asked for them yesterday, they became suspicious.’ The trials of being a sex god. How difficult it must be.
‘Just grab a cab to my office. I’ll sort the bill out there.’
He thought about that for a second. ‘Okay, Tempest. I think that will work… Hold on… Oh, nuts! I think they spotted me. Gotta go.' The line went dead.
‘Is Ben okay?’ asked Basic from the passenger seat.
‘I believe that depends on one’s perspective.’
‘Perspexitive?’
‘Yes, Basic, Ben will be fine. I expect we shall see him shortly. He was just being dramatic.’
The short conversation had taken us out of Tonbridge. It was very much lunchtime according to my belly, so I aimed the car at my house rather than the office.
The Blue Moon Office. Thursday, October 27th 1512hrs
Basic was quiet in the car on the way back to Rochester apart from when he yelled out "High score!" causing me to swerve the car as I jumped. I had been deep in thought, working through the problem I faced.
‘Sorry, Tempest.' he said, thumbs twirling on his Gameboy.
I let my heart rate return to normal and went back to the Klown conundrum. I called James from the car as we were setting off from Tonbridge and tasked him with digging out a list of every student Mrs. Wilkins had ever taught. I just hoped it wasn't going to be a wild goose chase. He had been about to leave, heading to a salon before his evening out in Rochester for his birthday tonight.
I kept checking my mirrors for the silver Mondeo or any other car that might be shadowing me. The road I was on though was a straight line that wound through all the villages between Tonbridge and the Motorway and then did the same thing once past the motorway all the way to Rochester. Conceivably, a car could sit behind me all the way from A to B with no evil plan being hatched. Furthermore, silver Ford Mondeos were common as muck. There was one behind me now about five cars back, but I could not see the occupants and it was gone the next time I checked.
Despite the possibility that Big Ben was on his way to the office, I needed to eat, and I wanted to drop the dogs off with my neighbour since I was going to be out this evening and really could not have them with me.
There was some deliberation over lunch as Basic did not want the spinach and courgette omelette I intended to eat. He had pulled a disgusted face when I suggested it. We settled on grilled ham and cheese sandwiches with pickled onions on the side. While they were heating through in my pan I popped around to see the lady next door.
As expected, Mrs. Comerforth was once again only too pleased to have them come to stay with her. I would not be back late so would collect them from her house before she went to bed. I gave her their food and bowls and dropped them off after Basic and I had eaten our sandwiches.
On our way from my house to the office in Rochester, we went via his house to check on his mum. She came to the door and gave me a wave as I sat in my car. Basic went inside but came out just a few moments later carrying a Tupperware box that looked to be suspiciously full of cake, which, it transpired, it was. His mum had baked a Victoria sponge for us, just in case we got hungry. He cracked the lid to show me when he got in my car, instantly filling the interior with the sublime smell of freshly baked goodness. My stomach growled at me despite the lunch I had just eaten.
Zipping along the tight country lanes that led through the villages close to the river, the phone rang again. I had taken the scenic route back to the office, partly this was because years of living as a theoretically attractive target for terrorists had drummed into me the need to vary my route and avoid predictability and partly it was because I was no in particular rush. Sometimes I was and would take the motorway, today I was not so I was cruising.
I jabbed the answer button on my steering wheel as the screen identified Big Ben as the caller.
‘Ben? Did you escape yet?’ I asked with amusement in my voice.
‘Damned right I did. I am nearly at your office. Have you got some cash?’
‘How close are you? I am about ten minutes away.’
‘Nuts. I’m about two-hundred metres away. Just coming past the back of the Castle.’
‘I’ll call James. He can bring some money down from the office.’
‘I need some clothes too.’
‘You are naked in the cab? Does the driver have wipe clean seats?’ I heard a woman laugh in the background.
Was he naked in a cab with a woman?
‘I managed to snag a gown and some pants but that's about it. The first three cab drivers refused to pick me up. Fortunately, Shelley, say Hi Shelley.' In the background, the woman's voice said "Hi". ‘Was good enough to understand my plight. We are going out this weekend.'
Naturally, he had picked up the cab driver and arranged to have sex this weekend while escaping from his hospital sex prison. What else would Big Ben do?
Big Ben and Shelley were now giggling about something in sexy, flirting tones. I said I would see him at the office and disconnected.
Ten minutes later I pulled into my parking space behind the office just as Big Ben was finishing up paying Shelley for the ride. His stupid, great-big head was shoved through the driver's side window where he was probably kissing her. He was indeed wearing only a hospital gown and some pants. In typical Big Ben style, he had not really bothered to do the gown up, so leaning forward it was hanging around his neck by a single spaghetti strap leaving him almost naked in the street. People were looking, which was, of course, the general idea.
He withdrew his head, beaming a big naughty smile and waved her off.
‘Hey, guys.’ he said, seeing Basic and I approach.
‘Doofus.’
‘Hardly fair.’
‘Naked in the street in October, been held captive for five days.’
‘Held captive by women in nurse uniforms so that they could have sex with me. It was not exactly torture.’
‘Why did you escape then?’
‘I appeared that I had gone through the list of willing ladies and some of them were coming back for seconds. There are too many women in this world to sleep with the same one twice.’
‘What about Patience? Is she a special case?’
‘Actually, maybe. That lady knows her way around the bedroom. I tell you…'
‘NO! Basic and I have no desire to hear about your exploits in detail. Come on, I have a job for you since you are here.’
I started moving towards the pedestrian exit from the carpark onto Rochester High Street.
‘I’m a bit cold, mate. I could do with some clothes and a tidy up. I was hoping to borrow your car to get home.’
‘In a bit. You are perfect as you are for the task at hand.’
The task at hand was to visit Dr. Parrish and his make-believe Paranormal Investigation Agency. I did not take kindly to having my customers poached. Since I had Basic with me, who looks like an evil villain's henchman and now had an unkempt, mostly naked and slightly deranged looking Big Ben to accompany me, I felt it set the right tone for the conversation.
We drew a few stares walking along the High Street, mostly from women checking out Big Ben, so I was glad that his office was less than one-hundred metres from mine. I pushed open the spotless glass front door, making sure I pressed my hand to the glass and missed the chrome inset panel designed to keep people’s handprints from marking it.
Inside, I was met by the same tall, attractive woman behind the reception desk.
Today she had on a different suit but looked equally well groomed. She looked up as I came in so I could see her eyes widening with the arrival of Basic and then Big Ben.
Scanning the room, there was no sign of Dr. Parrish but a closed door and muted voices coming from behind it told me where he was. I walked in a direct line towards the office.
‘Excuse me.’ The reception lady jumped from her stool to intercept me. Her face was cool and impassive.
‘I got this.’ said Big Ben from behind me.
Just as I was reaching the door it opened. There was Dr. Parrish, holding open the door for an older couple. They looked troubled.
‘Mr. Michaels. Always a pleasure. Won't be a moment.' I allowed him to slip by me to show the old couple out.
‘Oh, my.’ said the old lady. ‘Come along, Herbert.’
Turning around to watch him revealed what the lady had reacted to. Big Ben had the reception lady bent over in his arms, hanging from his embrace like a willing ragdoll. He was kissing her deeply. I still had no idea how he did it. He was good looking admittedly, but women just look at him and throw their knickers away.
At the door, Dr. Parrish went ahead of the older couple to hold the door open and bid them a good day, at least that was what I assumed his intention was. Instead, he glanced back at me, then legged it down the High Street. He checked over his shoulder once before he was lost from view in the crowd.
I guess I will deal with Dr. Parrish later then.
Left standing in his shop, I could not decide if we had just appeared too threatening, or if his guilty conscience had forced him to flee.
Big Ben looked up. ‘We done?’
‘Yup.’
He simply let go of the woman and stood up. She crashed to the floor at his feet, looking shocked and hurt. Walking away he blew her a kiss, ‘If you want more you know where to find me, naughty girl.’
Instead of hurling insults, which I am quite certain would have happened to me, the woman smiled to herself. Big Ben was unbelievable.