Night Work: Blue Moon Investigations Book 12 Read online

  I got lucky on my third message though, when Megan told Wendy that Karen was staying with Matilda because Karen had left her stove on and burned her house down. That Karen hadn’t told her friend she had a crazed stalker who might follow her didn’t surprise me. Now all I had to do was find a full name for Matilda, use that to find an address from the post office and then use that to get a phone number from directory enquiries.

  It took me almost forty seconds.

  It was getting late when I made the phone call, but I had to be sure that Karen was safe. Having gone to stay with a friend, I suspected she wouldn’t be taking any precautions which might expose her if the Sandman was keeping close tabs on her or tracking her somehow.

  ‘Hello,’ said a voice I didn’t know. I wasn’t expecting Karen because I called the house number for the friend but I got a man anyway.

  I set my voice to normal and delivered the lie, ‘Good evening, this is Detective Sergeant Inkwell of Kent Police. To whom am I speaking please?’

  ‘Err,’ caught by surprise, like I knew he would be, the man was instantly wondering what the right answer was. ‘It’s ah, Geoff Carpenter.’

  Jolly good. I tracked down Matilda Carpenter so I had the right place. ‘I need to speak with Karen Gilbert. Is she there, please?’

  ‘She, ah, she went to bed already,’ Mr Carpenter stammered. ‘Is it urgent?’

  ‘Yes, sir. I’m afraid it is. I must insist you wake her up.’ I could hear the man muttering something but not make out what it was. However, the sound of footsteps on stairs told me he was doing as I asked.

  Another voice appeared in the background. ‘Where do you think you’re going Geoffrey?’ It had to be the man’s wife because she was talking to him like he was a child.

  ‘I have the police on the line. They want to talk to Karen?’ he explained.

  ‘So you thought you would just let yourself into her room did you? Hoping to catch her half-dressed?’ The woman’s tone was impatient, as if she was always catching the man doing things she didn’t approve of and this was just one more example.

  ‘No, love,’ he began to protest, but she cut him off again.

  ‘Give me the phone,’ she demanded, and I was not one little bit surprised when her voice boomed in my ear. ‘Who is this?’

  I found myself feeling sorry for Geoffrey, but calmly answered. ‘This is Detective Sergeant…’ oh, no! I had forgotten the name of the police officer I invented. I tried to fill in the blank but I had left it too long.

  ‘Can’t remember your own name then. Is this one of Geoffrey’s silly friends from the pub. Did he put you up to this so he could get a look at my friend in bed? Was he going to take pictures?’ I could hear her draw a breath to really start laying into me when yet another voice appeared in the background.

  ‘What is all this racket?’ asked Karen Gilbert.

  In the heartbeat between Matilda drawing breath and the next tirade of abuse I quickly shouted, ‘It’s Jane,’ in my normal voice in the hope that Karen would hear me.

  It felt like I was taking part in a pantomime but everyone had a script except me. There was muffled mumbling but a few seconds later, Karen finally answered the phone. ‘Are you a girl or a boy this time?’

  ‘Please, just don’t hang up,’ I begged. ‘I found out some information on the Sandman.’

  There was a pause before she said, ‘Alright, I’m listening.’

  I told her about the other Sandman case I found earlier. I didn’t want to freak her out, but I felt it best to scare her into being on high alert; it might save her life. It had been my hope to draw CI Quinn’s attention to the case but that went down in flames before it even got into the air. Tempest and Amanda would be back tomorrow though and it gave me hope that together our combined effort might be able to solve the case for her, catch the maniac and make her safe again.

  Karen was shocked by my news but also relieved that she had come forward to seek help when she did. Before she hung up, she apologized for judging me and for avoiding me; how I dressed was not her concern nor should it blight her opinion she said.

  With the call finished and an important task complete, I stifled yet another yawn and went back to looking at the Biddenden Lake case. There were so many aspects to explore though. The dead police officers were linked by their involvement on the original swamp monster case but that could be nothing but coincidence. They were also all on Meet Market, which seemed more significant. Tempest’s first question of who stands to gain wasn’t yielding any answers; I could not come up with any benefit from the deaths.

  So I went back to the start and looked at the original case. The investigation three years ago was led by Chief Inspector Quinn, but I already knew that. He had a team of three officers working for him, all of whom were now dead. There were other officers involved in lesser roles but when I looked at the central team, the connection no longer looked coincidental.

  That took me back to asking who would benefit from their deaths? The only motive I came up with was revenge on the part of Jennifer, but I got no sense of that from her when we spoke. Sure, she was angry at the police for the way she was accused and treated. Ultimately though, she was released and was getting on with her life.

  The case file contained photographs taken at the lake, some of which were of the body and quite grim in their nature. Ian Dexter had died brutally with large chunks of flesh torn from his back and arms and legs. The cause of death was recorded as drowning but I was sure he would have died from blood loss equally. More photographs showed footprints where little numbered flags identified them, and a measure recorded length and width. There were casts made of the footprints at the scene and photographs of the casts in the case file. I knew Jennifer’s lawyer had been able to dismiss the concept of an accomplice, the only way she could have killed Ian Dexter, because only two sets of footprints were found at the scene. The footprints were a key piece of evidence which Quinn had used to enforce the idea only Jennifer could be the killer. It backfired on him though, her lawyer turning the concept around because she couldn’t swim and there was no way she could overpower him. If there was no accomplice, then she had to be innocent and the ground at the lake was too soft for anyone else to have approached without leaving their own set of prints.

  Was there a piscine beast in Biddenden Lake? The press hadn’t got hold of the story yet, the police doing an effective job of keeping it under wraps. For how long though? Someone leaked the drawing the first time around, and that was a point; someone in the police, someone linked to the case, had leaked a drawing to the press. In exchange for money seemed the likely reason, but who was the person guilty of that?

  I went around in circles for another half an hour but in the end had to admit that I wasn’t getting anywhere. The case constructed by Chief Inspector Quinn was convincing but contained no actual evidence. Jennifer’s DNA was on Ian Dexter but they were in a relationship so that meant nothing. She had no signs of injury which, given the state of the victim, there would have been had she been responsible.

  Putting it to one side, I focused on the Meet Market site. The number of women who had been in contact with the three men in the period leading up to their deaths totaled fifty-seven. I wanted to ignore those that had sent just one or just a couple of messages but then considered that maybe not getting the response they wanted was enough to make them kill. Stranger things had happened. So, I started to create a profile for each woman. I didn’t really have a goal in mind, it just felt like a thing to do if I was being thorough. There was almost no cross over though. My hope was that I would find a single woman with the face of a pyscho bunny-boiler who had contacted all three victims and arranged to meet them at times and dates that coincided with their disappearances.

  No such luck though. I managed to find two women who had messaged more than one of the three men, but one was rather plain looking and hadn’t even garnished responses from either man and the other was a pretty blonde but wanted to talk about quilting an
d cross-stitch so was soon ignored. I kept going but it felt like the Meet Market thing was a dead end.

  Two more hours had passed, and my back was beginning to hurt from the lack of movement. There was a lot to do yet, but I had to sleep. I twisted and stretched in place, trying to unkink my neck and shoulders, then, as I ran the shut down program and turned off the three monitors one by one, someone sitting behind me sneezed and I screamed like I was being murdered.

  Cardiac Trauma. Monday, December 5th 0154hrs

  Lying on the floor, hoping my heart would recover from the shock, I looked up at the bed. The sneeze came from a large black cat which was now staring lazily over the edge of the bed at me and licking its nose.

  A quiet knock on the door preceded the handle turning and gran’s wrinkled face appearing around the edge of the door as it opened. ‘Are you alright, love?’

  ‘Cat,’ I managed.

  Gran squinted where my hand was pointed. ‘Ah, yes. That’s just Fuddyduddy from next door. He’s always sneaking in here because they have kids now. Come on Fuddyduddy,’ she cooed as she scooped him under one arm. ‘You should get some sleep, love. You’ve got work in the morning.’

  When the door shut, I could still hear gran chatting away to the cat who was probably going to be quite happy tucked up on gran’s bed.

  ‘Will there be anymore surprises?’ I asked the room. I decided not to tempt fate and look for skeletons in my closet, opting instead to get under the covers and fall into a dreamless and very deep sleep until my alarm went off at six-thirty.

  Full Office. Monday, December 5th 0834hrs

  Usually I am the first to work. This is partly because unlike the other two, I don’t go to the gym most mornings, but it is also by design as I like to be the first in. When I slid Tempest’s Porsche into the carpark at 0834hrs, the first thing I could see was the tail end of Amanda’s mini sticking out, so she was here already and the lights in both the rear offices were on.

  And the windows were open. Why were the windows open? Neither Tempest nor Amanda were visible in their offices, so with a disappointed final pat, I said goodbye to Tempest’s car and opened the back door to go in.

  Then the smell hit me, and I gagged. I had forgotten the fish! The two rotten fish I left in ziplock bags in the storeroom. In such a rush last night, I left them there hoping the plastic would contain the smell so I could deal with them later. Actually, my plan had been to ask Tempest about them because I didn’t want to turn all the evidence over to the police, but my fog-filled brain forgot them completely.

  From inside I could hear exaggerated shouts and excitement. They were going to kill me! Since running away wasn’t much of an option, I took a deep breath and ran inside. The corridor that links the back door with the rest of the office also led to the storeroom. Both the door for it and the door for the main office were propped open.

  ‘We’re going to have to open the back door to create a through draft,’ Tempest yelled at Amanda as he came back through the front door. I didn’t know where he had just been but he had an unhappy look on his face and was holding his hands out like he wanted them to be somewhere else. Had he just got rid of the fish? He spotted me hovering near the back of the office and gave me a wave. ‘We found some fish.’

  The Dachshunds spotted me as well, so I was trying to look sorry and guilty while also petting the two dogs as they fussed around my feet with their tails buzzing.

  Amanda said, ‘Good morning, Jane.’

  ‘Hey, guys. How was France?’ I tried weakly.

  ‘We’ll catch up in a minute,’ Tempest said. ‘First we need to air the office out and get rid of this smell. You can tell us about the fish over a coffee shortly.’

  I wasn’t getting the cold shoulder treatment thankfully. They were just being efficient. The next twenty minutes passed quickly as Amanda sent me out to buy desiccant to absorb the smell and air freshener to mask it for now. I told them where the fish had come from and its method of arrival. They looked a little surprised, but it wasn’t the first time the firm had received intimidating messages. Unfortunately, the fish were gone; Tempest chased a rubbish truck down the road and threw the ziplock bags into it just before it drove away.

  It was cold in the office from the breeze flowing through, but the doors and windows were shut again making me hopeful that warmth would return soon. I wasn’t going to moan about it, that was for sure. Tempest looked up from the coffee machine now that it was finally time for the office to settle into a routine. So far as he was concerned, the fish thing was in the past. He even apologized for losing my evidence.

  To move things on, I asked a work question, ‘You haven’t asked me to raise an invoice for the Yeti case yet, boss. Will there be one?’

  Tempest grinned a big grin. ‘Not this time. We got paid in cash and got a bonus. And that was on top of getting our trip for free. I need to deposit the money today though; it feels like too much to be carrying around.’

  ‘I still need to account for it though, right?’ I was asking the questions carefully. If Tempest wanted to start doing cash stuff off the book and robbing the tax man that was his business. It would be a new version of Tempest though if he did.

  Thankfully, he laughed at the idea. ‘Goodness, no. It all needs to be accounted for properly.’

  The coffee machine bleeped and filled the first cup which he handed to me. ‘Amanda,’ he called through to her office. ‘You would like a coffee?’

  ‘Damned skippy,’ came her reply.

  As Tempest arranged a second porcelain cup, his attention on the machine, he said, ‘We need to catch up on recent events. No doubt you have a log of cases that came in while we were away, and I believe you have been looking into some of them yourself?’

  He said it as a question, the cadence darting upwards as the sentence ended. ‘Yes to everything,’ I replied. You’ll find a log of cases in a file marked caselog when you open your desktop. Amanda has the same file so you’ll want to discuss who is going to tackle what.’

  ‘I’m taking the werewolf thing in Whitstable,’ Amanda shouted through before either Tempest or I could say another word.

  We looked at each other. Tempest had Amanda’s coffee in his hand. I sipped mine and kept quiet. ‘Why is that?’ Tempest asked as he walked across the office to deliver her drink.

  ‘I saw it first.’ I heard her reply though I couldn’t see her. ‘You snooze you lose,’ she added. ‘Because I like Whitstable. Take your pick. Or it could be mine because…’ I didn’t hear the rest of what she said because she dropped her voice to a whisper, but I got the general gist from the flushed look Tempest had when he came back out of her office. At some point we were going to have to deal with the obvious fact that they were in a relationship now. I just hoped it didn’t blow up in their faces as it would make the work environment rather awkward.

  Trying to pick up where we left off, I continued with, ‘Just in case you have forgotten, you have an invitation to Lord Hale’s party next weekend. You replied but have not confirmed the names of those that will be attending. He requested that you bring up to twelve guests including yourself.’

  A burst of steam to clear the nozzle announced that Tempest was done making coffee. He turned around and stood up again, this time his focus on the tiny white cup which he had under his nose. He whispered something to it which sounded disturbingly like, ‘My precious,’ then tipped it back and downed the cup in one go.

  ‘That was actually a bit too hot,’ he said. I drank mine and handed him the cup. ‘Now what were you saying about Lord Hale?’

  ‘The party next weekend. Lord Hale, well probably not actually Lord Hale but his butler or something, has been pestering me to give him the names of the guests who will be attending. Up to twelve guests and I think they were leaning toward there being more rather than less attending.’

  He nodded as he considered the information. ‘Yes, this is quite the pay day too. All to do with some monster or creature or something that has visit
ed his family and killed the incumbent lord on his eightieth birthday. His birthday is this weekend and he wants us there to ensure he lives through it.’ Tempest was recalling the information from memory but he had it about right. ‘I want to attend, not least because he is offering so much money for an easy weekend of dinner and relaxing.’ He turned his head toward the back of the office. ‘Amanda.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Do you have plans for next weekend?’

  ‘Why?’

  He flipped his eyebrows, gave up shouting and went to her office. I followed. It was interesting how their dynamic had changed in the days they had been absent. Where they were both a little coy with each other, treading carefully and being observant of the other person’s sensibilities, now they were more like a couple that had been married for a decade.

  Leaning against her doorframe with his hands hooked over the architrave above, he said, ‘I am going to that party at Lord Hale’s mansion next weekend. I thought you might wish to join me. For the money he is paying, it ought to be more than just me attending. I think Big Ben will come if I ask him. It’s free food and drink and I can tell him there will be girls there.’

  ‘Will there be?’ she asked.

  ‘Shouldn’t think so.’

  She stared at him from her chair and I watched as a cheeky smiled played across her face. ‘I could invite Patience, you know.’

  Tempest sucked in a breath of surprise. ‘Oh, that’s naughty. Let’s do it. We can have them arranged as a couple.’

  Amanda’s eyes were sparkling with mischief. ‘Big Ben will not be pleased.’