by steve higgs
I looked at him, waiting for him to expand on the last sentence.
‘Yeah, she was shouting instructions at me the whole time. Harder. Faster. Grab my hips. I think she likes that she is in charge of us here and gets to tell me what to do.’
‘Okay.’ I didn’t really need to hear how she liked it. ‘Did you find time to quiz her about anything more pertinent to our current investigation?’
‘Of course.’
‘And?’
‘I asked her about the ghosts and whether she had seen them. Her response was that she hadn’t but that lots of others had and that she had seen a lot of new faces in the last few weeks because the cleaners were getting scared and leaving. She also remarked that she was surprised Julia Jones had hired us. Everyone else employed in the recent weeks has been Ukrainian.’
‘Yes, there is a distinct Ukrainian theme here. I want to believe there is something to that.’
We stopped at another set of bins. They were full of the day’s detritus. Empty cans and plastic bottles and a broken umbrella. It all went into the wheelie bin as the girls reloaded the bins with fresh plastic bag liners.
After just one more stop to empty bins we arrived at the gallery. Anyanka pulled out her bunch of keys, sorted her way through them and, finding the right one, opened the door.
As the lights came on and Anna went inside, Anyanka gave Big Ben and me instructions and a thirty-minute deadline for getting the rest of the bins empty. She sure was bossy. It suited me though, we needed to sneak off and look around untethered to our Ukrainian chaperones, and now we could.
‘What do we do about the bins?’ Big Ben asked as we wheeled the heavy bin away at speed. I had the map in one hand and no intention of wasting much time doing what we were expected to do.
‘Grab a few as we pass them, lose the map and if anyone even notices that some weren’t emptied, we claim we couldn’t find all the bins. I am not concerned about keeping this job beyond the next couple of days.’
‘So where are we heading?’
We were jogging with the wheelie bin between us, pushing it along the cobbled street at the best speed we could manage and being rewarded with vibrations juddering all the way up our arms to our skulls as it skipped across the uneven surface.
‘I found voices coming through a pipe in the rigging room. I think there is a room beneath it, so that is where we are going. Something is going on here. Under normal circumstances I would have no interest, but…’
‘Someone hurt Mr Michaels senior and we have a judicious slap or two to hand out.’ Big Ben completed my sentence.
‘Something like that.’
I felt the bin drag suddenly, it’s resistance to forward motion markedly increased as Big Ben deliberately slowed it. He had spotted or heard someone. With a nod of my head we aimed our trajectory at a bin station just to our left and were pulling the full bags out of them as a pair of guards rounded the corner ahead of us.
‘I saw their shadows.’ Big Ben said quietly as he threw them a wave.
Neither man returned the gesture as they eyed us. They were both large men, all the Ukrainian guards were as if they had kidnapped a bodybuilding team. The two Daves contrasted this by having skinny arms and tubby bellies.
The one on the right spoke into a lapel microphone without taking his eyes off us. Then the pair backed away, disappearing around the corner without breaking eye contact.
Big Ben said, ‘That was odd.’
I nodded. ‘Let’s move.’
The bin got abandoned. We could come back for it later. It had seemed as if the guard were looking for us and had then reported our location to someone else. Not staying where we were was the only prudent course of action. We stayed stealthy though, keeping to the shadows and making as little noise as possible.
Our dash to the rigging room took two minutes as we tried to make sure we were not seen. When we got there though we began a search of the building’s exterior. It would have been safer to stick together, but the two-hundred-yard-long building would take too long to inspect that way, so we split at the first corner. I instantly regretted not bringing radios with me, I had them in the office sitting idle. It was too late now though.
Big Ben had gone right as I went left, which placed me on the lee side of the building away from the river and in the dark as this portion of the yard wasn’t floodlit. I was looking for a door, a ramp leading down, an obvious manhole cover, anything that might indicate a way into the room I believed was beneath my feet somewhere. Halfway down my side of the building, I had still not found anything that wasn’t solid cobblestones and judged that I had gone further than the point where I found the pipes inside.
Another minute later I reached the end of the building and turned the corner at the far end. As I stepped back into the floodlit area, Big Ben rounded the corner opposite me.
‘Anything?’ I asked.
He shook his head. Okay, nothing so far. I quelled my annoyance and checked my watch: 2117hrs. Anyanka’s deadline was fast approaching, and we had emptied only two bins. It was not something I cared about but I would need her to believe we were trustworthy, so we could ditch them again later or tomorrow or the night after that.
I clapped Big Ben on the shoulder. ‘Let’s get back.’
Silently we fell into pace, side by side as we began jogging back to collect the wheelie bin. We didn’t get far though. About halfway back to where we had abandoned our cleaning duties, what I could only describe as an apparition appeared in front of us.
It was there one moment and then it was gone. It was a hundred yards ahead of us but we both saw it, and both knew what it represented. It hadn’t been visible for long, though it was long enough for us to see the horrifying death mask of a face beneath the ornate navy-blue bicorne hat. It looked right at us, its lips drawn back in rigor to reveal its teeth. It also had the misty quality that Dave Saunders had described. It was grey where it should have colour, but I couldn’t see through it.
We paused, both momentarily frozen by what we had seen but before we could react it appeared again. This time closer and began coming toward us. From between its lips a rasping moan escaped.
It was quite terrifying.
Big Ben laughed. ‘That thing actually looks real.’ He said.
I nodded my agreement. ‘Yeah. Let’s get it.’
It was right ahead of us on our way back to the river front and the gallery where we had left Anyanka and Anna, so we started running toward it. As I expected, the pace of the advancing apparition faltered, then slowed to a gradual halt. Then it vanished.
My brain didn’t like that it had just vanished and was questioning why I was still running toward the dead sailor. Neither one of us slowed our pace though, reaching the spot we had last seen it only a few seconds later to discover that it hadn’t vanished, it had stepped into a shadow and then ducked down another alley way. Lord knows the Dockyard is littered with narrow alleyways that run between the buildings. They had been designed with foot traffic in mind at a time when even a bicycle would have been a feat of engineering genius.
‘Hey!’
Big Ben and I had been about to explore the alley to see how far the ghost had gone or if there were an open door it could have slipped through to escape when Pasha’s voice rang out. It carried in the dark where this close to the water there were very few sounds to compete with it.
‘Where the hell have you been?’
Big Ben turned to speak with her as she approached across the cobbles looking angry. ‘There was a ghost, angel.’ He said.
‘Was it emptying the bins?’ She snapped back at him. ‘They won’t empty themselves, you know?’
‘Where are the two stupid women I left you with?’
Big Ben looked confused. Girls don’t usually have questions for him to answer. Unless perhaps the question is: How do you want to do me? Instead, especially after he has given them the best shag of their life – his opinion not mine, they remain eternally grateful.
‘Why?’ She asked. It seemed to be a reasonable question. Pasha came to a stop in front of us with her hands on her hips in clear frustration. ‘You have work to do. Chasing ghosts is not what you are being paid for.’
‘Haven’t ghosts scared away most of the staff? Are they not a problem that needs to be resolved?’
She eyed me suspiciously for a moment. ‘Wait. You’re telling me that you really saw a ghost?’ Her eyes widened slightly, then her brow knitted again. She didn’t believe us. ‘If you saw a ghost, what did it look like?’
‘Like an 18th century Royal Navy 1st Lieutenant. Gold brocade to the epaulettes, bicorne hat, white stockings. It looked very dead.’
Now her eyes widened again. I guess it matched with the description she had heard from other people. ‘Why on earth would you chase it? Everyone else has run away terrified.’
‘We don’t scare that easily.’ Big Ben answered. Then he stepped forward and took her right hand in both of his. He gave her his best smouldering look as he gently said, ‘Kitten, you didn’t really come looking for me to ask me about the bins, now did you? Wouldn’t you rather help me have this place renamed the Dickyard?’ He was turning the charm on. For him it was a tactic that rarely missed.
Pasha was immune though. ‘I have a boyfriend and he is super badass and would beat the crap out of you so don’t go getting any ideas.’
Big Ben replied, ‘Babe, I never have any ideas.’
Stunned silence. Her mouth twitched in a smile and I couldn’t tell if Big Ben had made himself sound stupid by accident or on purpose. She considered his reply for a moment then turned on her heel to start walking away. ‘Come on, morons, you still have work to do. I will escort you back to Anyanka and Anna. I want a word with them about their diligence. You can stay late to finish emptying the bins.’
I wanted to see where the ghost could have gone but couldn’t see a way of ditching the girls again immediately without raising suspicion or directly disobeying Pasha who seemed likely to fire us both if we gave her the slightest reason to. I only needed the job for a few days. I could suck it up that long. Tomorrow in the daylight I could explore again. It would be easier to look around then.
As we followed Pasha back to the gallery, Big Ben had a question for me. ‘Did you see its teeth?’ He asked meaning the ghost.
It wasn’t just me then. He had seen it too. ‘Yeah. Bright, pearly whites and it had a very convincing shadow too.’
A Late Start. Tuesday, November 22nd 0912hrs
It had been just before 0300hrs when I got home. The dogs were already in the house as was the normal practice for Mrs Comerforth. She had a key and would let them back into my place as she went to bed. I had been too tired to stay up to fuss and pet them, and they had not seemed all that interested in being awake. Instead, I had lifted them onto the bed and had them curl into me for comfort – theirs and mine.
They were still there when I awoke, two gently snoring warm lumps in the duvet that showed no sign of wanting to rise even though I had given myself a late start.
The lazy hour was more to do with the knowledge that I was going to be back at the dockyard until late again tonight than it was to do with being tired. I had applied the soldier’s rule of sleep when you can because you never know when you might next get some.
Sitting on the edge of my bed and scratching myself idly, I ran through what I had learned the previous evening. It was a short list which had at the top of it that Pasha was so engaged in managing the cleaning crew that she could not be distracted by Big Ben’s attentions. I had to admit that most women were putty in his hands once he turned on the charm. She, however, was not, but while it was unusual, there was nothing in it that I considered to be suspicious.
Beyond my thoughts on Pasha, all I had was voices coming through pipes in the rigging room and the belief that there was a room of some kind beneath it. It was close to where my dad had been found and perhaps formed the epicentre of the mystery so far.
Then there was the scary ghost that had not been scary at all if one assumed it was a buffoon in a costume. We had both spotted the ghost’s perfect rows of teeth as they shone in the light. Three hundred years ago no one had teeth and those that did had terrible ones that were falling out of their heads. Of course, had I been asked what I thought the ghost was before I had seen it, I would still have said it was a person in an outfit, but then, unlike everyone else that might come across it, I did this for a living.
I had a rough plan for my day and it was all about getting to the bottom of what had happened to my father. More normally, I would be off to the gym or going out for a run, but I felt an enhanced pressure to focus all my effort on this case to the point that I was dismissing everything else.
As I got up to make my way to the shower, I remembered that Natasha had sent me a text last night. In it she had politely pointed out that she hadn’t heard from me and was hoping we could see each other soon. I hadn’t replied, which was mostly because Anyanka had heard the incoming text and had raised a warning eyebrow at me so I would know she felt I didn’t have time to answer it. I had to acknowledge though that I also hadn’t answered since then because I wasn’t sure what to say.
I doubt my situation is unique, but I find myself rather enamoured with a woman I am not dating; my colleague and employee Amanda Harper. I cannot even explain what it is about her that transfixes me, other than my belief that she is womanhood perfection personified. Natasha is gorgeous. Utterly beautiful, engaging to speak with, intelligent and delightful to have in one’s company. Yet when we kiss nothing happens. In my head that is. Plenty is going on about three feet south where an angry beast is screaming to be set free. In my head and probably in my heart, I know that I have no future with Natasha. I always hated breaking up with women though, cowardly in my preference that they would ditch me.
Rinsing shampoo from my hair, I forced myself to promise I would text her back and explain what had happened to my dad and where I had been for the last couple of days. That would buy me some time, but I was supposed to be taking her to Jagjit’s wedding on Friday. She was my date and we had a room booked at the wedding venue that night. It was inevitable that we would have sex and I knew she was getting impatient.
Mr Wriggly thought it was about goddam time and was mocking me, oh no, you’ll have to have sex with the single, available, large-breasted, gorgeous woman. However will you cope?
He had a point and was beginning to stir at the thought of her abundant chest and what it might be like to get my hands on it. I didn’t have time for him though, there were things to do.
‘Come on, lazy dogs.’ I called as I went back into the bedroom, drying my skin and hair as I went. My outfit for the day was business casual as usual. I found myself wanting to wear heavy boots instead of stylish men’s shoes so as I slipped on the supple, brown-leather oxfords, I yet again found myself questioning whether I would have to fight someone in them. It was my ability to deliver a kick without hurting myself that was driving the desire to don something sturdier. All too often, my innocent investigative work led to confrontation and the need to defend myself. Shoes had a habit of coming off in a fight. You don’t see soldiers wearing loafers, do you?
The dogs plopped off the bed to the carpet where they each performed a complex series of stretches – a sight to behold on a miniature Dachshund I can assure you. I scooped one under each arm to carry them downstairs, then fought to hold onto them as they struggled to break free and get to the back door.
With maniacally excited barking, they cleared the lawn of wood pigeons as I filled my kettle and thought breakfast thoughts.
My phone rang. I had a mug in one hand and the tea caddy in the other. It was my cross-dressing assistant at the other end though. The tea caddy was discarded so I could thumb the phone to speaker.
‘Good morning.’ I halloed, deliberately not addressing my assistant by name as I could not tell which one would be in use today.
‘Hi, boss, It’s Jane.’ She helpfully supplied. ‘Are you coming to the office today? I have some interesting details on the Dockyard.’
I had tasked her yesterday with researching recent newsworthy events. She was a whizz at digging up information and had a nose for what might be pertinent. Much like Amanda, the other detective I had taken on to share the workload, she was worth her weight in gold.
‘I’m just getting some breakfast, but I’ll be there in half an hour.’ I replied. Jane was used to me coming and going as I pleased. Not because I owned the business and I wasn’t to be questioned, but due to my semi-regular stakeout activities and nocturnal ghost hunts. It was the nature of the job that some of it had to be done at night.
The dogs barked to be let back in. They wanted their breakfast, as did I, so I disconnected the call with a promise to see her soon and went to let them in.
Twenty-eight minutes later I pulled into the parking space behind my office. Amanda’s car was absent, not that I had a specific need to see her, I just liked to touch base to see how she was getting on and whether she wanted my help with anything. I had only seen her in passing yesterday which meant the last worthwhile conversation had been Friday and then it was via a phone call.
We operated independent of each other, tackling our own cases and billing hours. I had taken her on only a few weeks ago with little plan as to how it would work. There were so many enquiries I could probably take on a third detective if I wanted to. But it was confusing enough for me with just the two of us for now and hiring a third would mean we had to office share somehow as the building only had two rooms at the back which gave Amanda and I an office each.