by steve higgs
‘Sorry, I’m not really thirsty.’ I said. She didn’t seem to care. She got up to put her mug in the sink. ‘Kimberly, I need to fill in a few missing details. What was the date when you first made contact and when you went on the first date?’
‘The first date was a Monday night, two weeks ago.’
I did some mental maths. ‘The 17th?’
‘If that was a Monday two weeks ago, then yes. I made first contact with him on the Saturday night a week and a couple of days before that. I am so stupid. Why the hell did I contact him?’ I Understood the sentiment, I had asked myself the same question about a boy before.
‘So, what happened after he claimed to have cursed you?’
‘Nothing. At least not for a while. It was four days later when I noticed there was more hair than usual in the shower drain. I didn’t think anything about it at first but the next day there was blood on my toothbrush and even more hair in the shower. I saw him every day after that. He was always somewhere different, but it was as if he knew where I was going to be. I saw him in town on my lunch break, on my drive home, outside my window at night. When it wasn’t him it was one of his awful crew of followers. By the time I gave up on hoping the Police would do something and called your investigation agency my face was breaking out into spots and my hair was coming out in clumps.’ The last sentence came out between sobs. The poor girl was having a bad time of it, picked on by a gang of bullies led by a man that sounded like a real charmer. He and I would be having words in due course, but for now, I needed to wring whatever more information out of her that I could.
‘Kimberly, I think I should start by ruling out the possibility that you have been cursed. Voodoo, like all supernatural legends, is nothing more than embellished stories and fantasy for the gullible. You are however the victim of some nasty stalking and, if you wish to engage the firm, I will do what I can to put an end to it.' It wasn't much of a case. I expected that once I had confronted the man, he would decide it was too much effort and find some other way to use his time.
‘If voodoo is all fantasy, how do you explain my hair and my bleeding gums and loose teeth and my spots?’ Kimberly was all snot and tears.
It was a good question. One for which I did not have an answer.
‘I’m going to be ugly.’ She wailed loudly. ‘And he took my cat.’
I hated when the victims got all emotional. It was an unavoidable part of the job as a Police Officer, but I had hoped it would be a less regular event as a private investigator. Notices of bereavement, whenever I had been tasked to deliver them, had been a two-person job and I had had always positioned myself nearest the kitchen, so I could offer to make the tea and not be the one putting an arm around the bereaved. Here I was though with a sobbing, snot-dripping young woman and no chance of back up.
‘Tell me about your cat. When did it go missing?’ I asked by way of a distraction.
‘He took her three days ago. At least that is when she went missing and she has never gone missing before. She is a two-year-old Persian with a blue-collar inset with Swarovski crystals.'
I jotted the information down. Given his trick with the chicken, I worried for the cat. ‘Her name?'
‘Miss Pussy.’ She replied with a half giggle that escaped her lips between the sobs.
I wrote the name down without making comment. ‘Are you sure she has not got locked in somewhere? Cat's do that.'
‘No, I cannot be certain. But I would not put it past him to have taken her.' Kimberly gave herself a shake. ‘Here, I have a photo for you, just in case you happen to see her.’
I slipped the photograph into the cover of my notebook, then looked down at the pages worth of jotted lines. Plenty of detail. The question now was how to approach the case. ‘Kimberly, what outcome do you want to get from this?' I asked. I had learned at some point that a lot of people reporting crimes against themselves are not seeking justice, mostly they want to offload the information and never think about it again. Some though want the perpetrator behind bars and yet others want the Police, or perhaps God, or whoever is feeling most into retribution that week to deliver a broken arm or something.
Kimberly fixed me with an expression that suggested I was stupid. ‘I want him to lift the curse, return my cat and leave me alone.' She stated with some frustration as if it were obvious.
Return her life to normal I wrote on my page and underlined it.
‘Okay, Kimberly. I am going to take this case, but we need to discuss fees first.' I wondered what the girl could afford. If she had any worthwhile money tucked away, she would be spending it on moving somewhere nicer. I wondered how Tempest would feel about me taking a case at a lower fee than usual. He has often said the business cannot always be about profit and I had noticed in him a need to play the part of the hero when there was a woman in trouble.
I outlined to Kimberly our standard fees, watched her eyes widen and her bottom lip wobble again and offered her a discount. The discount came courtesy of her agreeing to help on the case where she could.
We settled on a rate that she could afford, and I explained what my likely next steps would be. I asked if she could go to stay with her mother or a sister or other relative, but her parents lived in Scotland and she could not go there and keep her job, she was an only child and had very few other relatives. I wanted her to stay in the house and thus defuse his ability to intimidate her while I gave some thought to how it was that she was losing her hair and teeth and suddenly getting spots. She would not though. She had work in the morning and refused to call in sick. I didn't say it, but I was impressed by her determination to soldier on.
I could do nothing else for her tonight. I closed my notebook, put it away and promised to call her the next day with an update. I wasn't going to do anything more tonight. As I thought that, a yawn forced my mouth open. I was tired. It had been a long day already which had started at six o'clock this morning with a trip to the gym.
Kimberly showed me out, her parting comments to wish me luck and to beg me to help her once more.
I left the building, walking fast to cover the distance to my car which was around the corner of the building where the car park was situated. On the bonnet of my car were two young men.
Annoying Young Men. Sunday, October 30th 2157hrs
‘Alright, Darling.’ Said one in greeting. He was maybe eighteen, he had a can of Supertennents lager in his right hand and he was all smiles. ‘Out by yourself?’
‘I reckon she looks like she needs a date, Terrance.’
‘I reckon you’re right, Trevor.’ The two were not drunk, I decided. They were just dickheads. Just enough alcohol in them to make them brave. ‘Is that right, sweetheart. Are you looking for a man?’
‘Why? Would you like to help me find one?' I plipped the car open, my stride never slowing as I approached them. Other women might be intimidated by such behaviour. But as a Police Officer, I was used to dealing with mouthy, unruly, idiot teenage boys. If they didn't get off my car, I would drive away with them still on it.
‘What did you say?’ asked the one who had spoken first. His lecherous smile was replaced by an angry mask as he slid off the bonnet and to his feet. ‘You think you’re clever? How about I show you how much of a man I am? You won’t walk straight for a week, babe.’
‘Yeah.’ His friend echoed.
Were they going to get aggressive? It was always hard to tell. They were blocking my path to the car, forcing me to stop. I could trade petty insults with them all night, but I was tired, and I wanted to get home. My right hand was fishing in my bag. Finally, I found what I had been rooting for and produced my Police ID.
‘Boys, if you want women to treat you like men, you need to start treating them like ladies. Go home, grow up and don’t let me find you hanging around here again.’
Neither of them seemed to have a retort. It was the Police ID that had quelled their tongues, not my demeanour. They were not quite done yet though.
‘Gonna be watchin
’ for you, bitch.’ Terrance said, his voice an insistent threat.
I slid into my car, refusing to hurry my pace or let them know that my pulse was hammering. Both men were taller, stronger and probably more willing to resort to violence than I. I had fight training, all cops do, and I had gone to additional classes, but it didn’t mean that I could face down two men and feel no fear.
As I pulled away, I dared one glance back at them, just to see if they were still watching me. Terrance mimed shooting me with his right hand.
Where Do We Work Now? Monday, October 31st 0640hrs
I awoke with a jolt of nervousness, a dream that I could not now recall somehow scaring me awake. As my pulse returned to normal, I stared at the ceiling and remembered that I had Brett coming to the house tonight. My stomach squirmed with unnecessary worry. I had been feeling weird about Brett since the very first date, little more than two weeks ago. He was just so perfect. It was not as though I was a virgin, for goodness sake. Why was I making such a big deal out of spending the night with him?
I knew the answer of course. It was because I was getting older now and thoughts of husbands and babies, that a few years ago were abhorrent, were now palatable. Brett had everything. Money, intelligence, money, wit, money, a great body, a handsome face, and money. Not that I ever thought of myself as material or mercenary. I was not after him because he was rich. The truth is that he pursued me, but now that the money was on the table, I had to consider it and it was nice to consider.
I would like to say that I love my job and would continue doing it even if I was rich, but I have only just started doing my new job as an investigator and would most likely quit and spend my time divided between the spa and the gym and the salon if I had the option to do so. I was a girly girl, I like unicorns and pink things and I like Brett Barker, so tonight I was going to show him the time of his life.
With that insistent instruction echoing in my head, I swung my legs out of bed and pointed them at the bathroom. Before I could think about entertaining Brett, I had a day ahead of me. There was a case to solve, probably other cases waiting, and this was day one of my new life where I was no longer a Police Officer but a private investigator instead.
The Blue Moon office burned down last week, so it seemed we would be using Tempest’s house as a temporary office for a while. James had said that Tempest was away but not where he had gone. It was a little early to call Tempest now, so I would make the call later when I had eaten breakfast and after my trip to the gym.
Five minutes later, I was going out the door in my gym gear with an oversized hoody to keep me warm against the October air.
I came back through the door of my apartment just over an hour later with the hoody stuck to my sweaty skin. I had forced myself to lift weights again. Kettlebell squats are the only way to keep a toned bum a fitness instructor had once assured me. Then showed me her fifty-year-old perfectly rounded, lycra-clad bottom. She was right, unfortunately, and I had to do deadlifts to keep my hams and quads in order and shoulder presses to keep my arms and shoulders toned and bench press to keep the muscular wall beneath my boobs tight, which she assured me would mean they pointed the right direction for longer. I didn't hate going to the gym, I just struggled to find the motivation most days.
The biggest problem fuelling my reluctance is getting out of my sweaty sports bra after the workout. It sticks to my skin, creating resistance when my arms are already sore and do not wish to be held over my head. I swear a straight-jacket would be easier to take off. Tugging and swearing, the bathroom already filling with steam from my shower, I finally pulled it over my head and threw it in the laundry basket.
I took my time in the shower, making sure I tended to areas that Brett had not yet seen. All too soon, it was time to get on with the day. I ate a bowl of cereal while I was getting dressed and went out the door.
In the car park, I remembered that I didn’t know where I was going and fished in my bag for my phone. I needed to call Tempest and find out where are we were working from now. Just as I touched it, the phone sprang to life with an incoming call – from Tempest.
‘Hi, Tempest. I was just about to call you. Where we are working from now.’
‘Good morning, Amanda.’ He answered.
‘Good morning, Tempest. I was heading to work but realised that I don't know where we will do that now. What can I do for you?'
‘I needed to let you know that I am going to be away for a few days. I decided I needed some time off.’ He fell silent while I considered his information.
‘What about the business?’ I asked.
‘I have no live cases, Jane can handle calls and emails and I will be back at the end of the week. If you wish to tackle anything that comes up, please feel free to do so. Jane can handle the paperwork and billing.’
‘Really? Just like that? Where will Jane be working? The office got burned down.’
‘I bought new IT gear and office supplies and set her up in my house. The customers will not be able to tell the difference until they wish to arrange a meeting. I asked Jane to put everyone off until the end of the week.’
‘Okay. I guess that all makes sense. Tempest?’
‘Yes.’
‘Tempest, look. I wanted to talk about what happened with the Klowns...' Tempest felt that I had betrayed him, or at least that was how he had expressed it. I had been under strict instruction to not let him know that CI Quinn had assigned two plainclothes policemen to follow him. I had not realised he was being used as bait. I had been told they were for his protection, but in hindsight, I should have known that CI Quinn was lying to me. Now I wanted to clear the air. I liked Tempest and we were going to work together now.
He cut me off before I could express any of that though. ‘Amanda, I really don't want to talk about it. Not now at least. Let's pick it up when I get back, okay?'
‘Okay, Tempest. Have a good week.' I replied stifling a yawn. We said goodbye and disconnected. Maybe Tempest and I would talk about it later. Maybe it would just be left alone. He seemed to have moved on from it.
So, I was heading to Tempest's house where I would find Jane but no Tempest. In my head, I was calling this day one of my job at the Blue Moon Investigation Agency. Even though I had already solved one case and worked on a couple of others, it had been part-time in between my shifts for the Police. Now though, I was full time working with Tempest; he insisted I was working with him, not for him. It felt like an insignificant use of words, but it was important to him somehow.
I fired up my Mini Cooper and pointed it towards his place in Finchampstead. The sky was grey today, overcast and threatening rain much the same as it had been for the last few days. The weatherman had promised thunderstorms in the area, which might make the Halloween celebrations stunted. Parents would not take their children out to watch the parade in town if it was raining, nor would they want to be out trick or treating door to door.
The drive to Tempest's place took less than ten minutes despite the early morning rush hour traffic. This was mostly because I could take less-travelled country roads to get there, but it was also only a few miles from my apartment in the town centre.
His car was quite visibly absent from his drive. In its place was Jane's Ford Fiesta. The engine block was audibly cooling, quiet pinging noises coming from under the bonnet as I walked by it to tell me Jane had only recently turned the engine off.
I almost knocked on the front door but lowered my hand as I saw the pointlessness of the action. Instead, I turned the handle and let myself in. I could hear the kettle beginning to bubble its excitement in his kitchen, then Jane came into view. She had heard the door open no doubt.
‘Tea or coffee?’ she called through from the kitchen.
‘I replied with, ‘Tea, please.’ As I joined her, dumping my handbag on the counter as I went. ‘It feels weird here without the dogs.’
Jane shrugged. ‘I only came here for the first time yesterday and Tempest was about to leave then. What
do you make of it? Tempest, taking a week off suddenly, I mean.' Jane asked as she was pouring the hot water.
I opened my mouth to reply, but I wasn't sure what I wanted to say. I was disappointed. He had hired me, this was my first full week at the firm, the office burned down three days ago, and I was now supposed to work out of his house. ‘I expect he felt that he needed a few days off. The Klown case was a tough one.' I left it at that.
Jane handed me a hot mug of tea and left the room, heading for the dining room Tempest used as a home office. ‘We have a few cases to look at.’ She said as I followed her.
‘Is one of them something to do with voodoo?’
‘How do you know that?’ She asked, spinning her head around to look at me.
‘Kimberly Kousins called me last night. She had been trying to get hold of Tempest, but I guess she couldn’t and found my number instead. I went to see her.’
‘Wow. What did you think?’
‘About the case? I think Kimberly is scared and that there is a man stalking her.’
‘She said she had been cursed with ugliness and her hair and teeth were falling out.’
‘Yes, that is what she told me as well. I can confirm that she was having some issues with her hair and she said her gums were bleeding. Her skin was suffering also - lots of pimples. There is definitely something to investigate there. I already agreed to take the case.’
‘Jolly good.' Jane replied, settling herself in front of the shiny new computer Tempest had bought. The box for it, along with boxes for the new printer/copier and other equipment were stacked in the corner of the room, waiting to be disposed of. ‘I am poised to do whatever research you feel necessary. There are other cases though.'