Blue Moon Investigations Ten Book Bundle

by steve higgs

  ‘Yes. I called him an hour ago. He was in a meeting but was off to collect the kids from school. I told him not to hurry.’

  ‘Why?’

  Rachael laughed at the mystified tone in my voice. ‘Because it is our third, Tempest. It’s really not that big a deal anymore.’

  ‘Will you tell the child that?’

  I was being flippant; my sense of humour was not well received though and was timed to coincide with the start of the next contraction. As she started to suck air in through her teeth again and utter a long string of words her children ought to not even know, I swung the car into the hospital car park. Thankfully, there was a barrier dispensing tickets, so I didn’t have to scramble for change to buy a ticket.

  ‘Which way to the labour ward?’ I asked needlessly as we approached the reception desk. Anyone with eyes could see my head turning purple from her grip on the back of my neck and the space hopper looking bump jutting out through her top.

  Of course, my sense of urgency was not reflected by any of the staff in the hospital. They saw this every day, possibly even every hour, but their anaesthetised reaction to my predicament did nothing to calm my nerves.

  Next to me, still crushing my neck as she held on to me while I guided her down the corridor toward salvation, Rachael muttered more obscenities under her breath. She was sweating like a pig and turning red with the effort.

  I tried to focus my concerns and thoughts on her and how she was feeling. Truth be told though, she was my twin sister and that familiarity gave me confidence that she was going to be fine. I was more worried about my bruised hand, bicep and neck.

  Finally, and with a final torrent of cursing from Rachael, I handed her off to a pair of women that introduced themselves as midwives. I guess they were used to four letter words as neither seemed to even notice.

  I leaned against the counter that formed the reception desk for the antenatal ward, relieved that I had made it. A clip board with several sheets of paper landed next to me.

  The lady behind the counter advised, ‘You’ll need to fill these out presently.’

  Before I could respond or look at them, the larger of the two midwives that had taken Rachael away came back to get me. ‘Hurry up, or you’ll miss baby.’

  ‘But I’m not…’

  ‘No time for any of that.’ She snapped, probably used to dealing with bewildered fathers-to-be. ‘Mum needs company right now.’

  I was in the labour room before I knew what was happening. I opened my mouth to protest, but once again Rachael grabbed my hand and crushed it.

  ‘Ooooooooooooh.’ She wailed. Actually, she didn’t say ooh at all but let’s say that she did. ‘Oooooooh, Tempest.’

  She was lying on a torture table that had been designed for birthing. It was tilted at an angle so the person laying on it had their back and head raised, then under the bum the device split in two to make the legs go in different directions.

  ‘Look.’ Said the midwife that had fetched me. ‘You can see baby’s head.’

  Without thinking, I looked. The sight causing me to utter an expletive of my own. I had never expected nor wanted to see the parts of my sister that I was now seeing. Not only that, but the sight was putting me off seeing the same parts on other women at any point in my future.

  Drawn in through the sheer horror of it, I saw my sister sucking at the gas and air mask like it was the only thing keeping her alive and the midwife between her legs literally grab hold of the infant while it was still inside her and pull it out with a twist.

  Baby, all covered in goo and muck, was plopped onto my sister’s chest whereupon she pulled down her top to show me another part of her I had never expected to see. With a little encouragement, my new niece started feeding.

  ‘A daughter.’ Said midwife number two from by my ear. ‘I can tell this is your first.’ She meant me not Rachael. ‘She has your eyes though, the same piercing blue.’

  ‘I’m, ah. I’m not the father.’ I managed weakly.

  ‘Oh.’ She replied, sounding surprised or confused. ‘Um.’

  ‘He’s my brother.’ Rachael filled in the blank helpfully. ‘We both have our father’s eyes and now my children have them.’

  Rachael looked tired. The baby was snuggled on her chest, warm and safe and in the best place in the world. I was a spare part with no purpose, a designation that had been true since the beginning of proceedings.

  ‘I just need to clean her up a bit love.’ Said the smaller of the two midwives. She was holding out her hands ready to take the baby but waiting for Rachael to acknowledge that she was going to take the baby away.

  When Rachael removed the arm she was using to cradle it, the midwife scooped the tiny human and expertly carried it to a table across the room. The baby started mewling. The midwife was cooing at it while patting the muck off with a white towel that didn’t stay white for very long.

  A nappy went around the little girl’s bum, then I watched, fascinated as she was lifted into the air again. ‘Would you like to hold her?’ The midwife asked.

  ‘Goodness, no!’ I recoiled. All three women laughed at me. I had no idea why they were laughing. The tiny human terrified me. What if I dropped it, or it moved when I was holding it? I would commit to picking her up when she was old enough to go to school and could be relied upon to bounce.

  ‘Back to me please?’ Rachael said. She soon had her new daughter nestled on her chest feeding again.

  ‘Sis, do you need me for anything?’ I asked.

  ‘No, Tempest. Can you let Mum know, please?’

  ‘Sure.’ The midwives were busy doing midwife things. I knew the placenta still had to come out, I had no intention of hanging around to witness that. My phone had silently buzzed in my pocket several times in the last hour, whatever messages I had received remained unread but might be important, so I kissed my sister on her head and left the room.

  I had missed calls from Big Ben and Jane. I called Big Ben first.

  ‘What have you got for me, brother?’ I asked as he came on the line.

  ‘I got chased off as soon I approached the Dockyard. There must be something there to see. Two boats about fifty times the size of mine told me to go away in quite certain terms. They even bumped me at one point. I nearly capsized, but I couldn’t do much about it, so I had to back off.’

  ‘You’re okay?’

  ‘Of course. I would have happily boarded their boats and knocked them around a bit, there was no way to easily achieve that though. I can report that they were Ukrainian, or at least they have the same accent as everyone else at the Dockyard.’

  ‘You couldn’t get close enough to see an entrance though?’

  ‘No, I saw it. I was just too busy manoeuvring the boat to get a good look though. I had planned to take pictures. It is around the corner from the dry docks where the river twists toward Gillingham. I would guess that you can only get boats in and out of it at high tide because I could see the bottom lip of it and the water was still going out. There’s no steps or anything going down to it though, so the only way in is by water.’

  I pursed my lips. This was great news. We had one entrance located and if the Ukrainians were protecting it, then my assumptions about goods coming in or out of there were likely to be right. How to get to it though? They had boats there now so would have boats there the whole time.

  ‘Where are you now?’ I asked him.

  He said, ‘Just getting back home. I need some lunch and I need to get changed before Hilary picks me up to go to Brands Hatch. How are you getting there?’

  I thought about that for a second. ‘I’m not sure actually. I’m at Medway hospital. My sister just had a baby in the last hour.

  ‘Will you be late?’ He asked, straight to the point.

  ‘I don’t know yet. I don’t intend to be.’ I was still wondering about it though. ‘I’ll keep you posted.’

  We disconnected, and I made a second phone call. This one to Jane.

  Her voice ca
me on the line almost immediately. I imagined her sitting at her desk, a pencil tucked behind one ear as she researched whatever enquiries had come in today, the phone rang on the desk next to her and she would snatch it up with her right hand, her eyes never leaving the screen in front of her. ‘Hi, Boss.’ Her deep masculine voice said. ‘What can I do for you?’

  ‘I’m just returning a missed call, Jane. Did you call about the Hale case?’

  ‘I didn’t but I do already have a stack of data for you to sift. From my initial scan, it all looks genuine. There are accounts of mysterious deaths, all on eightieth birthdays and always the incumbent Lord Hale. One could write that off as coincidence, but the accounts all refer to the appearance of a creature. Also, the family has money. I cannot see their bank accounts, of course, but the Hale estate recently bought stocks in Berkshire Hathaway, Warren Buffet’s firm.’

  I whistled. The shares started at three-hundred grand a piece. ‘So, what did you call for?’

  ‘What do you know about demonology, inverted pentangles and missing girls?’ She asked.

  I had an immediate answer. ‘Not a lot. I would recognise the inverted pentangle as a demon worship symbol but that’s about it. What was that about missing girls? More specifically, what age do you mean when you say girls?’

  ‘Sorry, I should have been more clear. I meant young women. We don’t have a case by the way, it was more of a general question because of some feed trends I am reading.’

  ‘Go on.’ I encouraged.

  ‘Some of the paraweb news sites, the conspiracy nuts and suchlike have reported the appearance of inverted pentangles which has led to a discussion about demon worship. I have been tracking it for over a week, purely for interest, then yesterday there was a report of two missing women that had been linked to the practice.’

  ‘Local girls?’ I asked.

  ‘Both from Kent, but it doesn’t say whether they have been seduced and run away to join them or have been snatched from their homes for something unpleasant. How’s the Dockyard thing going?’ She asked, switching topic.

  I had been walking while I was chatting on the phone, my route taking me through the rabbit warren of Medway hospital to the Special Care Unit my dad was in. At the doors outside, I stopped to rub my hands with the alcohol gel stuff they expect everyone to use. Inside, one of the ladies on the reception desk had spotted me and buzzed the electronic doors open. I needed to finish up my call. ‘It’s proving to be bigger than I had thought. The ghost thing was nothing more than a distraction, a ruse to scare off staff they didn’t want. I hope to have it sewn up in a few days.’ That part was certainly true, but I deliberately didn’t tell her about the organised crime gang I was antagonising, there was no need to make people worry. ‘I have to go, I’m at the hospital to see my father.’

  I promised to stop in at the office the next day and left her to get on with things as I pushed through the now unlocked door and went inside.

  ‘Hello, Tempest.’ Said the lady on reception, making me feel bad that she had memorised my name, but I hadn’t even looked at hers. ‘You got the message then.’

  I raised my eyebrows. ‘What message?’

  Her quizzical look matched mine for a second before she said, ‘Your dad is awake.’

  I paused while the news processed through the outer limits of my brain, reached the decision-making bit of my head which sent a message to my feet. I ran to the room he was in without looking back or even thanking the nameless lady on reception.

  In his room, dad was sitting up in bed while a doctor made notes in a manila folder.

  ‘Hey, kid.’ He said as I entered the room. Then he looked to the door behind me, ‘Where’s Mum?’ He asked, wondering why she wasn’t following. He didn’t know I was here with Rachael.

  Since he was very clearly feeling back to normal and was still being dealt with by a doctor, I pulled out my phone and dialled the number for mum’s phone.

  It rang for a while before she answered. ‘Hello, Tempest. I’m still at my meeting. Has the baby arrived.’

  ‘Yes, it has….’

  I had stopped speaking because I could hear that she was no longer listening to me. She was speaking to other people at her end, no doubt the group of women she was with and she was now telling them about her latest grandchild.

  ‘Well, come on, Tempest. Do I need blue wool or pink?’

  I sighed. ‘Dad’s awake.’ I blurted. It was the only way I could change the course of the conversation.

  ‘Oh. Oh, jolly good. Now how about that wool?’

  The news that her husband had woken up from a head injury which had kept him unconscious for several days was accepted, acknowledged and parked in favour of having something juicy to tell the ladies she was with. ‘Pink, mother.’ I supplied.

  Again, I could hear the background babble of voices as the news was delivered. ‘What is her name, Tempest?’

  ‘I have no idea, mother. I…’

  ‘Well, go and find out, Tempest.’ My mother demanded, cutting me off yet again.

  ‘Mother I would imagine the task of naming the child will be conducted only once Rachael’s husband arrives. Now, if you please, my father is awake, and I am going to see him. Should we expect you here any time soon? Or is your meeting still the priority?’ I was being a little harsh. My mother had always been able to compartmentalise her life. Dad was awake therefore she probably felt no further concern for his well-being and was content to focus on other things.

  ‘Tell him I will be along shortly. Honestly, men are so needy. And tell your sister to text me the name of the baby.’ With that she was gone.

  The doctor was finishing up whatever checks he had been performing. While I had been on the phone losing a conversation to my mother, the doctor had been shining a light into my dad’s eyes and moving his head around. He seemed satisfied, so was leaving. With a final instruction that my father should keep up his fluids and rest, he left.

  ‘Hey, Dad.’ I finally replied. ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Would you believe I am tired?’ He asked, a wry smile on his face. ‘Four days sleep and I wake up tired. Your mum will probably have a stack of jobs lined up for me because I haven’t done anything for four days.’

  ‘You might be right.’ We both knew he was. ‘I have been investigating at the Dockyard.’ My announcement grabbed his attention. ‘Did you know there were underground tunnels and rooms beneath the cobblestones?’

  His surprised face told me he didn’t. It was a well-kept secret that somehow the Ukrainians had found out about. ‘Big Ben and I have taken jobs there as cleaners on the night shift.’ He listened as I filled him in on the events of the last couple of days and what I had learned so far. As a tour guide on the ships during daylight hours, he was mostly shielded from events in other departments but had noticed the Ukrainians were slowly pushing everyone else out. He had heard about the ghosts and that several of the staff had quit after being scared by them. However, he had only been poking around in the rigging room because, like me, he had an inquisitive nature.

  ‘Did you see your attacker?’ I asked.

  ‘I caught a reflection only, but it was a woman. A big one. With muscle to spare like one of the ladies you see doing shotput at the Olympic Games.’

  Pasha.

  ‘I believe I know who it was. Would you be able to positively identify her?’ This was important because I was only really trying to catch the person that had hurt my dad. Now that I was embroiled in the case it would be hard to step away, but we were a little short staffed to be taking on an entire gang of criminals. If dad could point the finger of blame at one person, it might give the police the start point they needed to crack the gang’s activities apart. Then I realised that I was being too hopeful. Yes, it might give the police a starting point, but it would take them too long to achieve anything and even if they did arrest Pasha, she would be out the next day, if not the same day. In the meantime, the gang would continue to operate, and the Dock
yard would be a dangerous place to be. Most especially for my father as he would have identified one of the Ukrainians as a criminal and therefore identified himself to them as a target.

  He shook his head no anyway. ‘I only caught a brief glance. I don’t think I saw her face and I doubt I would recognise her. If I picked her from a line up based on her muscles, I couldn’t allow a jury to convict her. I just wouldn’t be sure I had the right person.’

  I was going to have to do this myself.

  Then I remembered the baby. ‘Oh, err. Rachael had her baby.’ I said, turning around to deliver the news halfway out the door.

  Dad looked at me. ‘I seem to have missed a lot. When?’

  I looked at my watch. ‘Twenty-eight minutes ago.’

  ‘Right. Is that why you are here without Mum?’

  ‘Yes, it is. She had a little girl but hadn’t named it before I left.’

  ‘I wonder if they will let me visit her.’ Dad was looking around for his call button to summon a nurse.

  I saw the folly in his intentions. ‘Perhaps it will be best to wait until she can visit you. Chris is on his way with the kids and mum will no doubt be along later as well.’ He looked unconvinced. He was bored with being in bed and wanted to do things. I understood how he felt, but I also knew how deceptive head wounds could be. ‘Also, you only just came around. If you get woozy or are still suffering any ill-effects, you won’t know about them until it is too late.’

  He made a disappointed face but accepted the wisdom of my words. ‘Are you off again? Back to the Dockyard to tackle the case?’

  ‘Not right now, no. It’s Jagjit’s stag do today.’

  ‘Oh, is that today. Hold on, what day is it?’

  ‘Wednesday, November 23rd.’

  ‘Wednesday.’ He repeated. ‘Isn’t that an odd day for a stag do?’

  ‘Some might say, but it is today for several reasons starting with because it is an Indian family, so the wedding starts on Friday. If we had it Thursday night instead, which is kind of the same thing, we would run the risk of hangovers. This way any ill-effects from overindulgence will be gone before the big event and it was the only day I could book the events I wanted. It was all very short notice.’