Blue Moon Investigations Ten Book Bundle

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Blue Moon Investigations Ten Book Bundle Page 99

by steve higgs


  ‘Hello, ladies, Charlie.’ I called as I crossed the room.

  Roberta and Tilda turned to see who it was, Charlie looked up briefly, nodded his head ever so slightly and went back to reading the paper. Gretchen stood up from leaning on the bar in readiness to pour me a drink.

  ‘I have to go.’ Roberta said to her Mother and Aunt as she slid from her stool. I flashed a smile at her. I had been hoping to run into her as I did not have her phone number and did not wish to ask her Mother for it. Another date would be nice, especially since the first one had ended so pleasingly.

  She ducked past me though, heading for the door. ‘Sorry, Tempest. I must dash. We shall have to catch up later.’ A little deflated, I watched the door shut behind her, reaffixed my smile and turned back to the two older ladies.

  ‘Might I buy a round of drinks?’ I got laid last night, so I was feeling generous.

  Unsurprisingly my offer was not turned down, although Gretchen was good enough to make sure she poured my beverage first. I sucked down a good third of the pint in my first swig.

  With my back to the door, I heard it open once more, assuming that other patrons had stopped by for some lunch. I had collected a bar menu from the rack at the end while I was waiting for my drink and I was beginning to peruse it when, from behind me, a familiar voice caused my blood to freeze.

  A Rude Surprise. Tuesday, November 1st 1315hrs

  I turned slowly, desperately hoping my senses were playing a cruel trick on me. They were not though and there, stood in the doorway, was my Mother.

  Bollocks!

  ‘Hello, Tempest. We decided to join you and have a little break.’ She wore a beaming smile like she was delivering the best possible news that I could hope to hear. The dogs had seen her and were straining against their leads. I lifted the chair leg I had trapped them under, then watched as the pair shot across the room.

  ‘Where’s Dad.’ I asked.

  ‘He’s just bringing the suitcases from the car.’

  ‘Where are you staying?’ I asked, thankful that there were no rooms available in the pub.

  ‘The landlady agreed to let us share your room.’

  I spat out the mouthful of beer I was drinking. My Mother was moving to the bar oblivious to my reaction. ‘Excuse me, Mother. You plan to stay where?’

  ‘In your room with you. It will be nice and cosy, just like the last time we stayed here in the eighties. I even think it is the same room.’ She spotted my horrified face finally and paused for a second. ‘That’s why you invited us down isn’t it?’

  ‘Mother, dear. I did not invite you. I had no idea you were coming and there is only one bed. How do you propose to manage the sleeping arrangements?’

  ‘Gretchen said there was a fold-down bed in the room as well and that the room is designed to sleep four.’

  ‘That’s right.’ Said Gretchen. ‘That’s okay isn’t it, Tempest?’ she asked.

  Honestly, I didn’t know why I was arguing. Changing Mother’s mind once it had settled upon an idea was like trying to change the course of a Supertanker by farting in its general direction. I would try to find alternate accommodation for myself. It seemed the simpler option.

  ‘I did not know that we had ever stayed here before.’ Was what I finally said in reply.

  ‘Oh, yes. We had a lovely week here back then. You and your sister shared the fold-down bed – you were only three at the time and we went all over the place exploring the caves on the shoreline, visiting tea rooms and enjoying the sunshine.' That I had been so young explained why I had no clear memory of it, just a few half-captured images. ‘Don't you remember the dog they had here?' she asked.

  I didn’t and shook my head.

  ‘It was a Dachshund. A little black and tan one like yours. Of course, the place has changed hands since then, possibly more than once.’ Mother continued to ramble on as I heard struggling by the door. I put my pint down and went to help Dad.

  Sure enough, I found my father coming through the door, loaded down with bags and suitcases and other bits.

  ‘Wotcha, kid.’ He offered with an out of breath smile.

  ‘Let me give you a hand.’ I grabbed a bag that was looped around his neck and another that he had sandwiched under his right arm.

  ‘That’s better.’ He said, flexing his neck as if to loosen it.

  ‘Is this all of it?’ I asked.

  ‘Don’t be daft, son.’ He replied with a chuckle. ‘Your Mum packed everything but the neighbour’s cat.’

  I led Dad up the stairs to the room. The stairs were just inside and to the right of the entrance, so we could see Mum now chatting with Gretchen at the bar. I placed a silent bet with myself that Mother would have a large glass of wine in front of her by the time we got back down.

  I was wrong though. In the two minutes it had taken us to get into the room, put the cases on the bed, which had thankfully been remade with clean sheets and had come back down, the glass in front of her was already empty.

  ‘How much is left in the car, Dad?’ I asked.

  ‘A few more bags, your Mum’s knitting, that sort of thing.’

  ‘Enough for one to carry?’ I didn’t wait for an answer. ‘Give me the keys, you go get a beer.’ It was daylight, so Dad had probably driven for at least the last five hours and had then lugged his body weight in bags through the streets of the village. His forehead was covered in a light sheen of sweat from the effort and he was a little out of breath. He would never admit it, and I would never say it, but he was getting old.

  He handed the keys over thankfully. ‘We parked right next to your car.’

  Walking up through the village to the carpark, I searched for accommodation near me on my phone. There was a reasonable list within a couple of miles as there were other villages along the coastline in both directions and hotels or public houses with rooms dotted about randomly between them. During the ten-minute walk, I exhausted most of them though. They were all full of treasure hunters or ghost hunters and I was regaled several times by different persons exclaiming joyfully that they had never had such a late boom to the year.

  After the tenth call, I gave up. I had reached the carpark anyway, so I needed my hands to empty the car and it looked like my choices were to sleep in the car or sleep on the fold-down bed in the same room as my parents listening to my Mother saw wood in her sleep.

  Perhaps Roberta will invite you to bunk with her. Mr. Wriggly suggested. I performed magnificently last night after all.

  He made a valid point. If Roberta had any further intention to spend naked alone time with me, it would have to be at hers and not in my hotel room. I would not ask her, but I felt certain I could carefully slip into the conversation that my parents were now in the room with me. Perhaps she already knew since her Mum owned the pub.

  There were four different bags to carry but they were not heavy. I hooked two in each hand and started walking. The round trip out to the car and back with their luggage had taken no more than twenty minutes, but it was enough time for Mother to settle into holiday mode. I turned sideways to get through the pub door with the bags and dropped them all in a small alcove before joining my parents in the bar.

  Old Ladies Together. Tuesday, November 1st 1400hrs

  My Mother was still sat in the same place at the bar. There was a half-drained glass of white wine in front of her which I hoped was the second one and not the third or fourth. Gretchen was leaning on the bar and to my Mother’s right was Tilda still. She too had a glass of wine in front of her and the three old ladies were deep in conversation about something. My Dad was sat off to one side, reading a book and probably quite content. As I watched, his right arm left the book to grasp his glass of beer. He took a small mouthful and set it back down, all without taking his eyes from the pages in front of him.

  The three women burst into loud cackles of laughter. One of them had said something funny. I had left the dogs beneath Mum’s seat. I could see now that they had been rescued from the floo
r and were in the laps of the two ladies sat at the bar. Mum had Dozer which meant the black and tan bottom I could see beneath Tilda’s arm belonged to Bull. Both were lying on their backs being cradled like babies.

  I sat myself down opposite Dad. He lifted a finger, asking for a moment’s patience while he finished the passage he was reading. That done he closed the book and set it down.

  ‘How are you feeling, kid?’ he asked, serious for once. He knew about my tussle with the Klowns last week and about Deadface’s death, although I had not told him that the man’s death was at my hands.

  ‘I am fine, Dad. My ribs are still a little sore, I won't be lifting weights any time soon but otherwise, I am fine. I felt like taking a break. It felt overdue.'

  He nodded, accepting what I was telling him. ‘I thought maybe you came here because of the ghosts.’

  ‘You knew about them?’ I raised my eyebrows.

  ‘It has been on the news. I saw the first article a couple of weeks ago when the chap found the gold, then there came reports of a spectral ship and the ghosts of dead seamen coming to shore to look for their gold. On Sunday morning they were reporting a murder that had been wrought by a ghost and less than twenty-four hours later we hear from you saying you are already in Cawsand. Your Mother convinced herself that you wanted us to join you, so here we are.’

  ‘Here you are.’ I repeated. ‘Well, I will not say that you are not welcome. The room is going to be a little cramped now though. If I could find alternative accommodation I would, but the draw of treasure and ghosts has filled every room for miles around.’

  ‘Yeah, sorry about that. Good thing you are not here with a lady.’ He said. Then he saw my expression and understood that their intrusion was exactly that. ‘Oh, err. Perhaps your Mother and I should think about staying somewhere else.’

  I waved him into silence. I had no future mapped out with Roberta. We had a night of fun, I had no idea how it had come about, what smooth things I might have accidentally said for her to have fallen so willingly into my bed, but it was done, and I had no good reason to believe that there would be a second night. ‘There are no rooms, Dad. I am looking into the ghosts though. If you don’t have any plans maybe you can help with that.’

  ‘Sounds like a great idea.’ My phone pinged with an email. Dad took another sip of his beer while I extracted it from my pocket. As I was starting to read it, John the Chef appeared with two plates of food. Mum and Dad had ordered lunch. I left my seat so that Mum could sit down with Dad. She already had a rosy glow to her cheeks from the wine and would most likely want a nap once she had eaten. Maybe Dad and I would take the dogs and explore some more.

  ‘You won’t believe all the things I have found out, Tempest.’ announced my Mother as she was sprinkling salt on her chips. ‘There is a multi-millionaire gentleman that has bought a huge plot of land just outside the village and he is planning to build a huge hotel and run cruise ships through here. He’s that chap on the Television, the one that had the show at night about being a top businessman.’

  ‘Julian Hogg?’

  ‘Yes, that’s him. The Whole Hogg. That was his motto when he started out selling white goods back in the seventies. That was how he made his money initially.’

  ‘How do you suddenly know all this?’ asked my Dad.

  ‘Gretchen and Tilda, my new friends, told me all about it. Tilda is the local Parish councillor, so she knows all about what land deals are going on.’ Mother was talking between mouthfuls of food as she hungrily devoured her fish and chips with mushy peas. The obligatory lemon wedge ignored at the side of her plate.

  Mum lapsed into silence, either having exhausted her repository of new information or deciding that she would rather eat than talk. I went back to reading the email from Jane.

  Boss,

  I have attached a spreadsheet with names, addresses and phone numbers for the people I could find that have reported seeing the ghost ship or the ghosts themselves. I have indicated in column G which they saw and when it was in column H. I have not spoken with any of them.

  The newspaper and online reports correlate well, one of the things you always tell me to look out for. The reports all claim the same details regarding what they saw, how it manifested etcetera.

  The first sighting was the day after the gold was first spotted and was reported by a couple in their sixties from Scarborough who were in Cawsand on holiday. There are many other tourists that have claimed to have seen skeletal pirates walking the streets of Cawsand, plus several people living there. Some of them report that they are too scared to stay in the village after the pirates told them to leave. There have been no other physical attacks or injuries that I can find other than the murder two days ago.

  Good luck with the investigation. If you need anything else, please ask.

  Jane

  PS. I tried to open the patio door but could not work out how to open it. Is there a trick to it?

  I had forgotten to show my assistant how to open the back door. It was a little sticky, nothing more, and required a hefty shove to get it moving. The information about the witnesses would be interesting though. If they had all reported the same thing then it was likely they had all seen something. I would want to meet the villagers that reported seeing the ghosts. I should have quizzed the Muslim couple.

  I sent an email back to Jane:

  Jane,

  I have a new search for you to perform when you are finished with other tasks. Please look into Julien Hogg and any information pertaining to a proposed purchase of a large piece of land near Cawsand, or planning permission for a hotel or anything to do with cruise ships coming near the area with tourists.

  The tourist cruise ship thing sounded erroneous. ‘Mother, how many passengers on a cruise ship?’ I asked. My parents had taken several cruises over the years.

  ‘Depends on the size of the ship.’ She replied between mouthfuls of food.

  ‘Ballpark for one of the ships you went on.'

  ‘Three thousand or thereabouts I think.’

  I tried to put three thousand people into the tiny village of Cawsand. They just wouldn’t fit.

  I switched my phone to emails again:

  Jane,

  Can you please also investigate property and land ownership in Cawsand? See if anyone has been buying businesses or selling businesses recently. Just let me know if you find anything anomalous, please. As usual, I do not know what I am looking for, so can offer no better guidance.

  A reply from Jane pinged back to my phone seconds later to confirm she would get on it straight away. I tapped my phone to my forehead in thought. There was something lurking beneath the tranquil, idyllic surface of this little village. I could not tell what it was, but I intended to find out.

  Next to me, my Mother burped. ‘Excuse me. I am quite full and quite tired now, Michael.' She announced while stifling a yawn and waving her almost empty wine glass around in a stretch. ‘I think I might have a nap. All that driving has taken it out of me.'

  ‘But I drove, Mary.’ Pointed out my Father.

  ‘But I navigated, Michael. That is the hard part. Especially the way you drive.’

  ‘Mary we already knew how to get here. You sat with the map on your lap and told me what I was doing wrong for five hours. If your jaw burns calories, then I am not surprised you are exhausted.’

  Mum looked like she was considering throwing the last of her wine at him but thought better of it and drank it instead.

  ‘Knickers to you. You daft old git.’ She said, pushing back her chair. ‘I’m going for a nap. You should go and find something to entertain yourself with for the afternoon.’

  My Father did not bother to protest and neither one of us offered a comment. She collected her handbag and tottered off in the direction of the room, swaying slightly as she went. I held up the key to the room and opened my mouth only to have Dad reach forward and put his hand over it to prevent me from speaking.

  It was an old building, so with
only Dad and I in the bar and no ambient noise, we could easily hear Mum clomp up the wooden staircase and via the squeaks of the floorboards, hear her move along the corridor towards the room. There was a pause, an audible swearword and the squeaks began moving back along the corridor towards the stairs once more.

  Dad's grin was as wide as the Cheshire cat's. ‘My vengeance shall be subtle, but oh so sweet.' He delivered with a vaudevillian sneer while rising from his chair and taking the key. He arrived at the foot of the stairs just as Mother was descending them, playing the part of the loving husband so she could not berate him further. ‘Here you are, Dear. You will need the key to get into the room.'

  She eyed him suspiciously, but took the key, turned around and began clomping back up the stairs once more.

  ‘Serves her right, the grumpy old bat.’ He laughed coming back to the table. I wasn’t fooled. My parents had always traded insults and banter, but they loved each other very much.

  ‘What shall we do then, kid?’ he asked. ‘Solve a mystery? Catch a ghost? Find some treasure?’

  ‘All of the above perhaps.' I got out of my chair, which prompted the dogs to move also. They stretched in place, like a dog or cat always does before going anywhere. However, if you have never witnessed it when a Dachshund stretches, it is a sight to behold. Since they are basically a long sausage with legs and tail at one end and legs and a head at the other, they manage to elongate themselves to unbelievable proportions when they stretch. Their warmup complete, they started for the door, not waiting to see if I was going with them. ‘I want to poke around the village some more.' I said as my Dad and I headed after the dogs. ‘There are a few odd things going on.'

  As we walked, I told him about the drones I had seen, about the Muslim couple and about the yellow signs. I also told him about Roberta, not that she had visited me in the night, but that she had caught me on the boat then invited me on a date with her. He nodded but said little.

  Using the map function on my phone, I navigated us to the shop the Muslim couple had been running. There was a closed sign in the window but beyond it, in the shop, there were still goods on the shelves and not just packets of things, there were pastries still on display. They had left so suddenly, and with such fear, that they had abandoned everything.

 

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