by steve higgs
‘Ooh, what’s this?’ she asked, unfolding the pages.
‘It is a series of accounts from Royal Navy sailors at the time the pirates were killed. It seems they were most likely hanged here in Cawsand and not lost at sea after all.’
She was staring at the pages held in her hands. ‘You mean… you. I don’t believe this. You utter bastard.’
Taken aback, I had no idea what my face was supposed to do when she looked back up at it a moment later.
‘I offer to take you out to dinner and you go all out to debunk my work. This is the find of my life. Of everyone’s life. Real proof of the existence of ghosts and you can think of nothing but ruining it.’ Her rage level was bordering on apoplectic.
‘Gina, that was not my intention at all.’ My words though were aimed at her back as she stormed away.
I got, ‘Go to hell.’ As a final comment just before the door slammed shut behind her.
‘Smooth.’ Said Charlie from his bar stool.
All I could do was nod.
I sipped my beverage and read the email Jane had sent me. It was a short note giving me the name, address and phone number of the man that had found the gold coins on the beach. He might have nothing of importance to tell me, but I was still gathering information, so it felt necessary to ask him a couple of questions. He lived within walking distance as Kingsand and Cawsand were one and the same. They may have started out as separate places a few hundred years ago and were not exactly an urban sprawl now, but the two had joined at some point in the past and one could walk from the start of one to the end of the other in fifteen minutes.
I would call him when I was done with my drink. I was starting to think dinner thoughts. Mum and Dad would see to themselves, assuming Mum had not killed Dad yet. I might take a drive and find myself something different to pub food for a change. I was sure I had spotted a sign for an Indian place earlier today on the way back from Plymouth.
Then I remembered that my car keys were still upstairs. I was not going up for them. Pondering my options, the door to the pub opened again. I glanced at the clock on the wall behind the bar: 1915hrs. Time for regulars and others to be arriving. It was quiet tonight compared with previous evenings in the village pub. Perhaps the effect of the ghost attack last night.
Perhaps not.
I heard Roberta’s voice behind me. ‘Hi, Tempest.’
I swivelled to see her making a beeline for me. ‘Good evening, Roberta. Lovely to see you.' Mr. Wriggly was instantly alert. She came right up to me and kissed me on the cheek in greeting, her left hand coming to rest on my left thigh about half an inch from where Mr. Wriggly had been dozing moments ago. Now he was trying to crawl across my leg to get to her as the warmth of her hand sent messages zinging through me.
‘How is your head?’
‘It appears to be okay. I have a small lump still, but the headache is gone.’
‘Oh good. I was hoping to catch you here tonight.’ She said with a very definite sub-textual meaning. ‘Do you have plans?’
‘Nothing I cannot cancel.’ I had no plan at all other than to get some food somewhere. What I had told Gretchen I planned to do tonight was an outright lie. ‘I need to eat, but that is about it.’
‘Well, I have something for you to munch on.’ The outrageously flirty reply was accompanied by her taking my hand and pulling it to convince me it was time to go. I had less than an inch of my pint remaining, so I downed it in one, slid from my stool and followed her out of the pub, her tiny hand holding mine.
It was cool out again. The clear skies of the afternoon were still in place, providing a blanket of stars across the inky black canopy. The huge moon still sat above the sea, bathing the village streets in silvery moonlight. All this was lost to me though because I was being dragged away for sex by a very willing and minxy young lady. I decided I was hungry as my tummy growled its emptiness, but the protest was shouted into silence by Mr. Wriggly who felt his needs were currently more pressing. Had there been any doubt about her intention, it was swiftly quelled when she pushed me into the mouth of an alley we were passing. She looped a hand behind my head so she could pull my lips down to hers. Her other hand slid between my legs to find something other than my hand to hold. Just when I was beginning to wonder if round one would be in the alleyway, she let go and pulled me back into the street, so we could hurry onwards.
Roberta lived in one of the small terrace houses that was the dominant style in Cawsand. Judging distance, I placed her house at almost dead centre of the village, tucked up a small street called Green Lane
As the front door closed our clothes were already spilling onto the floor.
Two for one? Wednesday, November 2nd 2115hrs
Over ninety minutes of sweating and smiling and rolling around had ended in the shower because we both needed to get clean. I suspected she was not done yet, but my empty belly had protested loudly enough for her to suggest pizza.
I was clothed and sat on her sofa surfing channels while she fetched wine from the kitchen. There was a delivery service a couple of villages over that were due to bring us a large stuffed-crust meat feast any minute. I was ready for it and thankful I had cash in my wallet in preparation for the unknown this week since I rarely carry it.
From another room, I heard a phone ring. It was not my ringtone and I heard Roberta answer it. Her muffled voice sounded displeased.
The short conversation ended moments before she joined me in her living room. She was carrying only one wine glass.
‘I have to go out.' She said annoyance etched on her delicate features. ‘Work stuff. Hopefully, I will not be long. Please make yourself comfortable, eat the pizza and if I don't get back before you get tired, please keep my bed warm until I do. I will make it worth your while.' She kissed me, then rushed off to get changed out of the bathrobe she was wearing.
I consoled myself with the thought of eating the pizza without having to share. It was more food than I needed but delaying dinner until almost bedtime had made me ravenous. Less than five minutes later she swept back through the room to kiss me and was gone. Alone now, I was feeling a little out of place in someone else’s house. Admittedly I had been running around naked in the house not very long ago, yet now, it felt very quiet and alien.
A minute went by then I heard the front door open again. My assumption that Roberta had forgotten something vital proved incorrect though when John's head appeared around the doorframe.
He seemed shocked to see me, clearly expecting his sister instead. A glance at the clock told me it was 2130hrs. John had most likely served the last order of food at 2100hrs and was now done for the night. I had not realised he lived with his sister. Or perhaps she lived with him, whatever the case we were staring at each other with neither speaking and I worried the house might smell of sex.
I got up to shake his hand and explain my presence in his house. ‘John, hi. Roberta invited me over for pizza, then had to duck out to deal with something. She expected to be back soon.’
‘Really. I just bumped into her outside. She said she would most likely not be back tonight. She is out at night a lot lately.’
Curious.
‘Well, the pizza is designed for two, so you are welcome to join me if you want to share. I ordered meat feast.’ My disappointed belly took its cue to growl quite audibly.
‘Meat feast?’
‘Yes. I like meat.’
John was biting his bottom lip as if in deep thought. ‘Am I welcome to join you, Tempest?’ he asked. He had an odd tone to his voice now and his cheeks were flushed. I wondered if he was alright.
‘Yes. Of course. I just said so.’
‘I, ah. I need a shower.’
‘Okay.’
‘Yes, I am very dirty. A dirty boy.’ I didn’t really need to know about his hygiene habits. ‘You might hear me singing because I never lock the bathroom door.’
‘Okay.' I had no idea why I was getting so much information from him. On the television, Vin D
iesel was about to drive a car off a bridge with Paul Walker on the back of it, I had wine and there was pizza coming. I could not care less about his singing.
‘So, I am going upstairs now. To get a shower. Because I am a dirty boy. And the bathroom door will not be locked.’ He paused in the doorway then bent over to tie his shoelace. He appeared to be watching the movie while doing so, staring back into the room to see the screen, his head upside down against his legs. Finally, he tore himself away. It was a great movie, so I expected him back soon enough. I only hoped the pizza was big enough for us both.
Another fifteen minutes went past before the anticipated knock at the door came. I handed over notes that included a good tip before retreating to the sofa, warm box held before me like a prize. I hoped it was acceptable etiquette in this house to eat pizza on the sofa. John had still not reappeared, so I could not ask him, and I did not wish to go rooting around in the kitchen for a plate.
He had been forever in the shower, perhaps knowing how long pizza delivery takes at this end of the earth. I could hear him moving around upstairs now though. I peeked inside the box once more to assure myself there really was enough pizza to go around then closed it again. I had consumed one slice and it felt polite to offer John some before I took another. If he didn’t hurry up though I might reassess my pizza sharing protocols.
Thankfully I could hear him on the stairs now.
‘Warm pizza?’ I asked, lifting the box towards the door with my left hand while keeping my eyes glued to the screen. When I got no reply, I turned to look.
I dropped the pizza box and only just caught it.
John did not want pizza.
In the doorway, John was stood wearing a cowboy outfit that included imitation leather chaps with tassels running all the way down the outer seam of both legs. He also had on a matching fake leather waistcoat that was undone in the middle and had a sheriff's badge on the right breast. On his feet were cowboy boots and around his waist was a holster that carried two guns. I assumed they were also fake. Complimenting everything else was a large Stetson hat, but the dominant feature of the ensemble was the huge and erect penis pointing in my direction.
‘Howdy, Pardner.’ He said as he lounged against the doorway. ‘You, ah. You might want to close that mouth unless you would like me to put something in it.’
Get me the hell out of here right now! Seriously, why are there not bits of glass stuck in you now from diving out of a window?
Mr. Wriggly had a point.
I could feel my lower jaw flapping as I tried to find a response. He pushed away from the door frame and came towards me. The move jolting me into action.
‘Sorry, chap. I'm strictly butter side up.' I believed that I was not in the slightest bit homophobic. I cared not that John was gay and had always assumed that a person was born with their sexuality already determined. You either were or you were not, or in some cases, I suppose you were both. I, however, was very much heterosexual and wondered when I would be able to get this image out of my head.
‘But… but you said.’
‘Sorry. Miscommunication.’ I was off the sofa and stuffing my phone back into my pocket. I grabbed my jacket and went for the door. John was in my way though and it was the only exit from the small room I was in.
Trapped by a dick.
Thankfully he stepped to one side as I tried to get past him. I got the front door opened, remembered the pizza, tussled internally about whether I wanted it enough to go back past the naked cowboy again and decided I was hungry enough to be brave one more time.
‘Changed your mind?’ he asked hopefully.
No, he bloody hasn’t.
‘No, John. I have not.’ I brushed past him with the pizza box held in front of me like a shield. In the tight confines of Roberta’s house, I did not wish to rub against the appendage still jutting out from John’s waist.
A Discovery. Wednesday, November 2nd 2139hrs
Outside in the street, I wondered what to do with myself. It was dark and cold and getting late. The pizza would be cold in minutes. Still tasty, but cold pizza is not as nice as hot pizza in my opinion, though I could see no easy way of eating it before it went cold, or of prolonging the retention of its residual heat. I snuck a slice out by cracking the lid ever so slightly and did my best to gobble it down without the grease dripping onto my fingers.
I was meandering slowly back towards the pub, the routes through Cawsand becoming familiar now as it was not a big place and I had been walking around it continually for the last three days. I was about to go back past the house I had seen Thirty-Three come out of yesterday. Was that yesterday? The days were merging into one.
As I snagged another slice, the impatient demands of my empty belly now subsiding, I thought about all that had happened today. From climbing out of windows to getting whacked in the head. My father getting drunk and my disappointing conversation with Gina. I was so lost in thought that I almost missed the figure coming out of the door ahead of me.
I froze. When you want to not be noticed one of the easiest things to do is stop moving. The eye is drawn to movement more than anything else. Shapes that don’t fit with the surroundings, silhouetting oneself against a skyline or a contrasting background, a shiny surface reflecting light as you move, all these things will give away your presence, but none more swiftly than movement. Using only my eyes I glanced around to make sure I was not illuminated by a street lamp and held still.
Roberta was coming out of a door less than thirty metres ahead of me. There was no mistaking her shape, but light coming from inside the house showed me her face as she turned back towards the house. She spoke to someone unseen within then shut the door, turned away from me and hurried off.
I gave her a minute to leave the area then checked what I was already certain to be true. It was the same house Thirty-Three had come out of. I moved into a deep shadow on the other side of the street and watched the house. The property was as nondescript as any other in the street. They all looked the same, differing only in colour and other minor features such as whether it had a door knocker or whether the owner had hung flower baskets outside.
I stared at the house for forty-five minutes, until my feet and back began to get sore from the lack of movement and it seemed likely that there was nothing to watch. In a different part of the world, I would park a car across the road and watch the house. Since that was not possible here and I wanted sleep and comfort more than I wanted to spend the night watching the house to see if anything happened, I gave up and walked away.
Where was I going though? Not back to Roberta's. The room at the pub did not appeal much either. Then I remembered that I had my Dad's car keys and that they always used to keep a blanket in the boot. I had endured far worse sleeping conditions on many occasions in the Army, so with a shrug, I walked up the hill and out of the village to the car park.
Breakfast and Another Clue. Thursday, November 3rd 0715hrs
I had been warm enough in the car with the blanket wrapped around me, but I was far longer than the car was wide, so upon waking I had been forced to perform a complicated series of stretches to uncrack my back, shoulders, and neck. I was not entirely happy that I had left the dogs with my parents, the pair of dopey Dachshunds were probably wondering where I was. Although provided someone had fed them they had probably not fretted too much about my absence.
It had occurred to me as I fell asleep that I had forgotten to call Gary Wainwright last night. By the time I remembered him it was too late to call, and I felt that it was currently too early. After 0800hrs would be acceptable I hoped.
I walked through the early dawn light, embracing the cool air and feeling alive. Despite the brush with John and his cowboy dick last night I had enjoyed a wonderful interlude with Roberta. The second time is generally better than the first in my opinion, a belief that had held true last night. I wanted to tell myself that once this week was over and I had departed it would still be possible to see her again. It wasn�
�t that far to come after all. I checked my phone. It was getting low on battery, that was the first thing I noticed. I was looking to see what messages I had received while I was sleeping though, hoping that Roberta would have returned to her house late last night and tried to find out where I was. No such luck though. Maybe she had spoken with her brother and learned that he had scared me off.
I had an email from Jane though, sent just before midnight. She had not been able to find anyone called Edington Hungerford anywhere. Nor had she had any success finding two drone pilots from Bristol.
It was unusual for Jane to draw a blank. It made me wonder if I had heard the name correctly. I dismissed the notion that the man had changed his name as I had found in a recent case. If this was either his new name or old name, Jane would have found him in seconds. I left the information to stew in my brain for a while. I had other needs to attend to right now. It was breakfast time, I was hungry, and the granola was calling once more. I was still feeling pudgy, like I was putting on weight despite all the exercise I was getting. I was drinking a couple of pints most days and had eaten a couple of meals that I might not have at home. Like the pizza last night which I had eaten most of all by myself. Other than that, I was being sensible about what I was eating. I would start today right with a big bowl of the healthy stuff and carry that policy through the rest of the day. I quickened my pace.
I was not the first one to get to breakfast, as usual, there were lots of the seafaring treasure hunters filling themselves with bacon, eggs, and toast. I went to the hot water dispenser first, made tea and then helped myself to a large bowl of the wonderous granola.
John came out from the kitchen to check on something, spotted me and when my gaze met his he whipped his head away and stomped back to where he had come from.
By the time my parents appeared, looking well rested and long past the tiff they had last night, it was 0812hrs. I had been just about to get up and go outside to call Mr. Wainwright, but since they were here I figured I might as well postpone that task for a few more minutes.