Blue Moon Investigations series Boxed Set 2 Read online

  ‘Yes, of course. Lily said you might call.' That struck me as odd. If I was a customer of a tour I would most likely be a tourist. Let's suggest that I have that wrong though and Agatha is a local, she certainly sounded like one. However, what is the likelihood that I would know the tour operator by her first name? It could just be a coincidence and the two ladies did indeed know each other. I continued.

  ‘Mrs. Milford can you explain to me what you experienced when you took the ghost tour please? Give as much detail as you can.'

  As requested she launched into a lengthy account of the night she took the tour. About a minute into her story I started to feel that it was rehearsed. At no point did she um or ah or pause. Perhaps she was just very articulate, but her story was so well polished that it felt like I was being read a script. She finished with, ‘Then a chill of absolute dread fell upon me as I felt his presence drift through my soul. He whispered his name and was gone.’ Agatha lapsed into silence.

  ‘Is there anything else?’ I enquired.

  ‘No, no. I think that is about all I remember.’ She had remembered everything. I thanked her for her time, made a couple of notes and called the next number. The lady that answered this time was Susan Haverhill. Once again, I explained who I was and what I wanted. Once again, she agreed to tell me what she knew, but if she was as familiar with Lily Hallett as Agatha was, she gave no sign.

  I let her tell me about her experience at the ghost tour. She rambled more than Agatha had but she used many of the same words to describe what she had seen, so much so that it began to sound like the same story, just told differently. I was smelling something very fishy about the whole case but knew I had been duped when Susan said, ‘A chill of dread passed through me as I felt his presence touch my soul.’ It was almost verbatim what Agatha had said.

  ‘Do you know Agatha Milford?’ I asked. Susan spluttered a little when claiming that she did not. I was certain she was lying. Not only at that point, but since she started speaking.

  I thanked her for her time and disconnected. Turning to Jane, I found her waiting patiently for me to get off the phone.

  ‘They all know the client.’ she said, which concluded the case. Less than thirty minutes of actual investigation and we had solved the case.

  ‘I was just about to ask what you had found out because it is clearly all fake.' Jane indicated to the screens with her head. ‘Show me.'

  I crossed the room and leaned to see what Jane had found. Social media provided a link between every name on the list and Lily Hallett. I dismissed the notion that it could be a coincidence. That Lily Hallett had been so keen to have Tempest at her office and wanted to take photographs had tipped her hand. This was all about publicity.

  I thought about that for a moment. Lily Hallett had invented a ghost that was visiting her tour, probably one she had researched and for which a legend already existed. Tempest had been involved in a couple of high-profile cases recently, so while he was hardly a household name, in the local community, especially those involved in any form of business that had a connection to the paranormal, he was known. Did a visit by him then legitimise her tour? Give it greater credibility and interest?

  Probably.

  I was ready to believe that this had been her intention, but what did I do about it. She had contracted the agency to investigate her case. Did I string it out and charge her a fat fee for my trouble? Did I reveal the scam to her, but have Tempest agree to a few photographs since she was paying? I didn’t like the second option. It felt cheesy. Tempest was very clear that the paranormal was not real, so I could not see him endorsing a ghost tour.

  I decided to give myself some time to consider it. I had still not heard from Patience, so I was going to drive to her flat and knock on her door. I needed to make things right between us.

  Jane and I made a plan to meet at my place at seven o'clock again to make ready for the date and I left her practicing speaking with a girl's voice. She was rubbish at it.

  Where is Patience? Wednesday, November 2nd 1116hrs

  I tried calling on my way over, just in case my persistence paid off. There was no reply though. I also called Brett. I had been putting it off because in my desperation to resolve our hiccup I was worried he would not listen and continue to reject me. I hated the idea that we would break up after our first little fight, especially since it was all a mistake.

  His phone rang at the other end though and just when I thought it was going to switch to an answering service, a woman answered instead.

  It was his assistant, Janice. ‘Hi, Amanda.' She chirped happily. Janice seemed to know everything about him, so if he changed his status to available or single it had not made it to her ears yet. ‘Are you after Brett? Duh, of course, you are. Why would I ask that when you were calling his phone?' I had not met Janice yet, she had answered his phone a couple of times and had called me to arrange his social diary once when he was in a meeting and needed to delay a date. My mental image of her was a nineteen-year-old ditzy blonde, stereotypically pretty but not all that bright. Her brain seemed to flit from one idea to the next, never stopping in one place for very long.

  ‘Hi, Janice. Is he there?’

  ‘No, he flew to Bahrain this morning.’

  ‘Did he have a meeting?’

  ‘Not one that was on his calendar.’

  ‘Do you know how long he is going to be away?’

  ‘He said two or three days, but he didn't say what he was going there for, other than he needed a break. Are you guys okay? He seemed different this morning like he was upset about something. Ooh did you guys have a fight.'

  I distracted her with a question, ‘Janice does he have a different phone with him?’

  ‘Yes.’ She said very carefully. ‘I am not allowed to give the number out to anyone though.’

  ‘I’m his girlfriend, Janice. He would want me to have it.’

  Janice gave it up after a minute or so cajoling. I thanked her and dialled the new number.

  It was answered immediately. ‘Brett Barker.’ My heart skipped.

  ‘Brett. It’s Amanda.’

  ‘That bloody Janice. I swear I need to fire her.' I tried to speak but he cut me off. ‘Look, Amanda. I know you are going to protest your innocence, but I saw what I saw. I am going away for a couple of days, kitesurfing with some friends. When I get back, if I want to call you to talk about it, I will. That's the best I can offer right now.'

  ‘Okay, Brett.’ I conceded with a tear on my cheek.

  ‘I was really into you, Amanda.’ He paused, and I waited while he framed what he wanted to say next. ‘Now I just don’t know. Don’t call me, okay. I’ll call you.’

  He disconnected, leaving me feeling very lonely in my little car. Tempest was away, Patience was upset with me, more than she ever had been in all the years I had known her, Brett and I were on a break at the very best and my mum and her boyfriend were in Miami or wherever their cruise ship was currently. I needed more friends.

  I had arrived at Patience's place. I was starting to feel angry about having to chase her. It was not my fault that CI Quinn was such a dick. I had suffered worse than her, she was getting some extra time off and I was offering her better-paying work to fill her spare time. I couldn't keep it up though. However bad I felt for myself, I knew that her current predicament was my fault. I trudged up the stairs to ring her doorbell.

  There was no answer though. No sound of movement even from inside the apartment. Had she seen me coming and hidden? Was she so upset with me that she was avoiding me now? I knew she was here because her car was outside. I guess the pervy mechanic had finally finished with it and she had retrieved it yesterday after getting suspended.

  I hammered on the door. ‘Come on, Patience. Please open the door so we can talk.' I yelled so she would hear me. Still no sound from inside. I thumped hard on the door again.

  ‘Shhhhh!' Came an insistent voice as a door opened across the other side of the landing. ‘Keep it down, won't you?
My husband works nights.'

  Embarrassed, I turned to see a small woman in her late thirties in house slippers and flannel pyjamas with a towelling dressing gown hanging open to show her flabby middle. The overhang of her belly was visibly hanging lower than her top could cover.

  ‘Sorry.’ I apologised. ‘Have you seen Patience?’

  ‘Here, I have a key.’ She said producing a small keyring with a fluffy cupcake on it from inside her house. She shuffled across the landing, her slippers making a scuffing noise as they hung off the back of her feet to lightly scrape the tile.

  She opened the door for me and stood back. ‘I don’t think she is there.’ She told me as she popped a cigarette in her mouth. ‘Haven’t heard a thing all night or this morning so she is probably on a shift, love.’

  I went inside as she inhaled deeply on the foul stick of putrid death. I would have to come back out through it soon enough. She was right in that Patience was not at home. I also knew that she was not at work unless I had been misinformed about her suspension, which seemed unlikely, or CI Quinn had found her an even more unpleasant task and called her back in.

  I went to her bedroom, opened her wardrobe and counted her uniforms hanging there. Only three, so one was missing. To be sure, I went to her bathroom and opened the laundry basket. The missing uniform was there, discarded for washing after she came home yesterday. So, I knew she had come home yesterday but not where she was now.

  I wrote her a text to tell her I was in her apartment and was worried about her and was wondering where she was. I pressed send, then heard her phone chirp.

  It was in the house.

  ‘Patience?’ I called out, wondering if she was hiding in a cupboard. No sound came back, so I called her phone and when it connected and started ringing a second later, I found it abandoned on the kitchen counter, hidden from view behind a box of Weetoes.

  This was not good.

  ‘Are you going to be long?’ her neighbour asked, leaning into the doorway at the front of the apartment so I could see her.

  Patience's apartment showed no sign that she had been taken by force. Everything was in place, but like most people she never went anywhere without her phone and if she went anywhere, she took her car. I told myself I had no reason to panic. Not yet. But a sense of dread was claiming first prize in the race for the pit of my stomach anyway.

  I waved to her neighbour that I was coming, took Patience's phone and went out the door expressing my thanks for her help, while simultaneously holding my breath to avoid the foul smoke.

  It was almost noon when I called the station to see if anyone had heard from Patience or knew where she was. It was Sgt Dave Barnet that answered the phone.

  ‘Hi, Amanda. What can I do for you?’ He asked after I spoke.

  ‘Have you, or anyone else, seen or heard from Patience? She is missing.'

  ‘Missing? In what way?’

  ‘Her car is outside her place, her phone was inside her flat, but she is not there, and her neighbour claims she didn’t hear her last night.’

  ‘She did seem quite upset when she left here yesterday. Are you sure she is not just avoiding you while she calms down?' he asked.

  ‘She might have been, but I don't think that is what she is doing now. Why would she leave her phone behind?'

  ‘Have you been calling her?’

  ‘Well, yes.’

  ‘Then perhaps she wanted some distance.’

  ‘What about her car?’

  ‘Does she have sisters? Other friends? Parents with a car? Anyone of them could have picked her up.’

  He was being completely logical, which was really unhelpful because I wanted to jump to conclusions. I would get nowhere with this though, so I thanked him for his help and disconnected.

  Sitting in my car, I pulled out Patience’s phone and scrolled to find her sisters and her mum. I dialled each of them, but they did not know where she was either.

  Her older sister Charity had some thoughts on the matter though, ‘Girlfriend, that ‘ho is probably in bed with some random man. She always did like the dick. She’s that much of a slut, if she went to buy candy, she would end up getting pick n dicks.’

  Wow.

  No help from her family then. I still doubted she was with a man, but I couldn't think of anything I could do about her absence immediately. Reluctantly, I jabbed my ignition switch and set off for Royal Tonbridge Wells where I proposed to confront Lily Hallett.

  Ghost Tours my Backside. Wednesday, November 2nd 1403hrs

  It took over an hour to get to Lily Hallett's office because I stopped for some lunch on the way. I found a global coffee chain outlet not far from her office where I bought a giant cup of mochaccino and a sandwich. The range of cakes were calling my name from the display counter. Somehow, I resisted, despite feeling that I deserved a treat to counterbalance the awfulness of the last couple of days.

  Refuelled, I left the car where it was in a multi-story car park and walked around the corner to the Ghost Tours office. Through the glass front of her office, I could see Lily talking to a small group of what appeared to be Chinese tourists. I went inside and waited patiently.

  There were leaflets to look at and some posters on the wall advertising the tour and what one could expect. It was in several languages. Thankfully, Lily concluded her business with the tourists before I ran out of things to inspect. She saw them to the door then turned to face me, a smile on her face and her hand outstretched for shaking.

  ‘Hello again, Miss Hallett.’

  ‘Do you have news about when Tempest will be able to visit?’ she asked.

  ‘That is what I came to see you about, actually. Shall we sit?’

  Lily's face betrayed her excitement at the possibility of having Tempest visit. I had not yet found the time to call him. I could have, of course, but I was still a little angry about his sudden absence and I didn't want to find myself berating him as I unloaded all my problems from this week.

  I sat in the same chair I had two days ago when we reached her office in the back corner. ‘So, Amanda, when will I get to meet the great Tempest Michaels.’

  ‘That will be down to him I'm afraid, Miss Hallett. I haven't talked to him about it yet.'

  ‘I don’t understand.’ She replied, looking confused. ‘You said you were here to discuss his visit.’

  ‘No, I said I was here to see you about your desire to have him visit. Tempest does not believe in the paranormal, supernatural world and most certainly does not believe in ghosts. He is a good investigator though. So, how long do you think it would have taken him to discover that all of the people that claimed to have been touched by or to have heard Sir Chelios were your friends?'

  Her face coloured and she opened her mouth to answer me. No words came out though as she tried a couple of times to frame the next lie.

  ‘You gave me their names and phone numbers. It was obvious they were reading from a script or had been coached in what to say.’

  ‘Well, I… ah.’

  ‘Look. You hired the Agency for an investigation. The case is now closed and I have a bill for you. There are no hard feelings and you’re not the first one to have made it all up. This was just a publicity stunt though, wasn’t it? You wanted pictures of Tempest at your premises so you could legitimise your ghost tour and have something interesting to Tweet about, yes?’

  ‘Yes.’ She said with some grumpy resignation. She had been staring down at her lap but looked up now to lock eyes with me. ‘Was it really that easy to work out?’

  ‘It took the office assistant less than thirty minutes to connect all the witnesses.’

  ‘The office assistant.' She echoed. ‘Do you think Tempest will pose for a photo with me?' she wasn't willing to let the idea go. Maybe she was right, and this would generate business for her.

  ‘I cannot say.’ I replied. ‘You could just ask him yourself though. Had you done that you could have avoided all the subterfuge and the bill.

  ‘How much is
the bill, please?’ she asked as if she had not thought about it until now.

  ‘I will have Jane at the office finalise your account and invoice you tomorrow. It will be in line with the fees I described during our first meeting, but more than it would have been if you had just asked him. Oh, and I want all the photographs you took of me, please. I do not give you permission to use my image for your publicity.' It had suddenly occurred to me that she might.

  Lily promised me that she would not use the pictures and would send anything that had been printed off to the business address. It would not stop the photographer from making copies, there was nothing I could do about that, but Lily understood the repercussions of using my image without permission, so I doubted she would.

  She walked me to the door, apologised for her misguided actions and seemed quite glad that I was going.

  Meandering back to the car park I checked my watch to find that our little chat had lasted almost an hour. It was just before three o’clock, so I would have to get a move on or I would get caught in the school run traffic again.

  Interesting News. Wednesday, November 2nd 1803hrs

  On the way home, I had gone via Patience’s house again. I had her phone so if she had resurfaced, she would not be able to call me and I could not call her. Her car was still there and just as before I got no answer from her door. I knocked on her neighbour’s door but got no answer there either.

  I hung around for a while trying to decide what I should do. Patience could be anywhere. She could be shacked up with a man that I didn’t know about, she could have taken a taxi to the station and headed into London for the day for some stress-releasing retail therapy and she simply forgot to pick her phone up. Or she could have been grabbed by Bartholomew and his entourage and be getting tortured to death right now.

  I knew I would not be able to convince the guys at the station to do anything official about her. She would not be officially considered a missing person until the third day and even when her absence was acknowledged, it was hard to find a missing person. You had to get lucky and find someone that had seen them being taken, if that was what had happened or had seen them going somewhere and you kept going, following the breadcrumb trail until you found them. Except… all too often what we found was the missing person's body.