Night Work: Blue Moon Investigations Book 12 Page 7

  Frank pursed his lips. ‘Yeah, well, overheads, you know.’ I didn’t know actually. I got the impression Frank made good money but had no idea what he spent it on. He walked to work even when it was raining so if he owned a car, I had never seen it and he certainly didn’t spend the money on clothes because he was scruffier than your average student. I made him a cup anyway, then reloaded the machine for myself.

  Sniffing the dark liquid with his nose over the cup and his eyes closed, Frank started telling me why he was excited about Biddenden Lake. ‘This area of Kent has been inhabited for many millennia and most of the villages are a thousand years old. Most were named in the Magna Carta, but it’s a superstitious area, rightly so, of course, as it is also one of the most haunted places on the planet.’

  ‘Why is that?’ I asked.

  Frank rolled his eyes. ‘Because the villages have been here for so long. So many dead bodies in such close proximity with the living; they were always going to revolt. Witchcraft has been a particular problem. Three hundred years ago, witches in the area were becoming a nuisance. The sensible precaution of keeping to themselves and practicing their magic where others couldn’t see had been discarded with more and more of them making themselves public and daring villagers to challenge them. Growing more powerful, they were perceived as dangerous even if avoided and became targets for the terrified townsfolk. Banded together by their leaders in 1690, two years before the Salem Witch Trials, a purge began. Any woman suspected of witchcraft was brought to a place of justice and drowned, the accused forced into a sack weighted down with rocks before being tossed into a lake. One such location these executions took place was…’

  ‘Biddenden Lake,’ I finished.

  ‘Yes. The practice stopped though when several of the executed witches reappeared and set fire to all the houses in Biddenden. The legend has it that they returned to the lake after they set the fires, their wet footprints followed by plucky villagers determined to put an end to the terror. Then all the fish in the lake died and anyone that went near the lake was drawn into it and drowned.’ Frank’s voice had taken on a storyteller’s edge. When he finished speaking, I expected a boom of thunder and a crackle of lightning to accentuate his tale. Neither happened but when something thumped against the window of the office, I damned near jumped out of my skin.

  ‘What the heck was that?’ I asked the air as I put my coffee down and stood up. Before I got moving there was another thump as a second something hit the glass. The sound was like something heavy and solid but also soft like it was made of flesh.

  Without questioning whether it was safe to do so, I flung open the door and dashed outside to see who was there.

  The street was empty. At almost five o’clock, the Saturday trade of tourists had wound down to almost nothing and the evening crowd of people out for food and drink had yet to arrive. A chill wind blew along the high street carrying the dirty scent of the river at low tide.

  I hugged my arms about myself as Frank joined me in the street. ‘What was it?’ he asked, his eyes darted to take in the two packages on the ground when I nodded my head at them.

  I thought he was going to ask what they were, as if I might have any idea, but instead he knelt down next to the nearest of them and gave it a poke. I eyed him nervously, wanting to warn him that it could be a bomb or something even though I didn’t believe it likely.

  He looked back up before I could say anything. ‘I think it’s a fish?’

  ‘A fish?’

  ‘Yeah, a fish.’ Then from a pocket he produced a butterfly knife and cut the string which held the package shut. As he opened it, I could see it was indeed a fish. A fish that someone had meticulously wrapped in newspaper and thrown at our windows. The other package, lying a few feet further away looked the same. ‘There’s a message.’ Frank said.

  I would like to say that I am used to weird goings on but clearly not that used to it because I found this strange. Why would someone throw a fish at the office? Then the stench of the creature hit my nose. ‘Oh, my!’ I said reeling back to get away from the smell. ‘Is that thing going rotten?’

  ‘It’s fairly potent,’ Frank replied turning his head to one side to take a breath before he opened the package out fully to expose the whole message.’ I didn’t have to prompt Frank to read it, he did so anyway, ‘Stay away from the case or suffer. Does that mean anything to you?’

  ‘What’s going on?’ asked a voice from behind me, the suddenness and proximity making me almost mess myself.

  ‘Someone threw a rotten fish at Jane’s office,’ Frank said with a laugh. ‘There’s a message inside.’

  ‘Of course there is,’ replied Poison, flicking her hair to show how cool and casual she was about it. ‘I locked up already. See you Monday.’

  I murmured a goodbye as Frank bid her a fun Sunday. I had no idea what Poison might do with her time off, but I got the impression she might be some kind of shadow warrior or ninja assassin in her spare time, so I didn’t ask.

  ‘You want me to throw this away?’ Frank asked.

  I shook my head. ‘No, it’s evidence. This is from whoever is behind the murders at Biddenden Lake. I started looking into it and somehow they know already.’ I asked myself what that meant. Who knew about my involvement? A few people at the police station, my grandmother and Jennifer Lasseter. Who among them could have tipped someone off?

  Then it hit me: the killer was a member of Kent Police. They had to be. Two police officers had been killed in a copycat of an unsolved crime and if I dismissed my grandmother and Jennifer Lasseter then only the police knew I was involved. I felt the blood drain from my face.

  Who should I trust now?

  ‘Um, Frank, just leave them, okay. I’ll deal with this.’ I wasn’t sure how I was going to deal with the stinky fish, but the second package might have a different note in it, and I needed to work fast to find out who was trying to scare me off. As Frank stood up again and put the knife away, I got a sense of how alone and exposed I was without Tempest and Amanda here.

  ‘You’re sure?’ Frank asked.

  I nodded slowly, my mind whirling with all the things I was thinking at once. ‘Yes. I’ve got this.’

  Frank didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t argue. ‘Okay. You let me know if you need anything.’ I nodded but there was nothing else to say so Frank inclined his head in a quick salute and left me where I was, another breeze of cruel air reminding me that my coat was inside.

  Acting fast, I went back inside, grabbed evidence bags from the back store and rushed back outside. I didn’t pick up my coat; I was cold but I didn’t want it to smell of fish, which I felt convinced was going to happen to everything else I had on.

  The fish’s dead eyes stared lifelessly back at me as I held my breath and scooped it into a bag. It was leaking all over the note and the newspaper, disgusting fish juice threatening to kill any DNA or fingerprints that might exist. I thought it unlikely I would find anything like that, especially if a trained police officer was behind it, but I was going to preserve as much of the evidence as I could.

  With both fish ziplocked into their bags, I finally got back into the warm where I danced my feet around to get some life back into them and looked for somewhere warm to put my hands. Calling Jan to tell him about the fish sounded like the right thing to do, but I already had a full evening planned and what if he was the killer? It was all too much to think about at the moment.

  I put the fish in the back store where I prayed the evidence bags would contain the stench, then shut up the office, killed the light and went back out to my car.

  All around me and across the city, people were finished with work for the day. They would be settling down to watch movies at home or getting ready to go out on dates or with friends. I had a hastily arranged self-defense class to attend, a stroppy boyfriend to contend with and a night at a stranger’s house that might last until morning.

  Had I known at that point what the night had in store for me, I
would have walked to the nearest bar and stayed there.

  Self-defense. Saturday, December 3rd 1800hrs

  I had no idea where Simon was, but it was a sigh of relief I let out when I discovered he wasn’t home. Worried that he might have just popped around the corner and was about to return, I threw what I needed into a bag and left again.

  Twenty minutes later, I was feeling nervous and worrying that I looked ridiculous in my sports gear. I wasn’t the only guy in the class but there weren’t many of us and it was clear it wasn’t pitched at young men because all the other attendees were in their sixties. I felt out of place. Not just because of the age difference, though it played a part, mostly it was to do with having to go into the gents changing room in my coat, dress, and boots and then strip off to show the guys I wasn’t in the wrong place. Taking my makeup off had drawn a lot of stares and they continued now, the barely concealed elbow nudging inevitably taking place as the women all found out the new guy in the class had shown up in a dress.

  ‘Right everyone, find a place with enough space around you to swing your arms. We are going to perform some warm-up movements.’ The man speaking was a six foot something tall beefcake of shaved-skull muscle. He was in his late fifties but looked like he could kick a wall down and then eat it. Despite that, he was softly spoken and encouraging, the effect that of a wise old teacher.

  The pace of the class was slow, which, I soon discovered, was because I had mistakenly booked myself into the over fifties class. ‘Don’t worry about it,’ Sensei Dave said. ‘It’s not a big deal. You get a one on one taster session with me or one of my assistants tonight. If you like it, you get to come back for a class that has students more closely aligned with your ability and age. We like to keep the older students separate because the young ones think they will be slow or weak or something and then end up with a grandmother sitting on their back while they beg for mercy.’

  I laughed at that, but his expression let me know he hadn’t been joking.

  ‘I’m going to take you through a few basic holds and techniques. That’s all we’ll have time for tonight, but I think you’ll learn a lot just from that. Before we get started, I just want to say that you’ll be in close proximity to other people each week. You might want to consider your personal hygiene before turning up next time.’

  My face flushed. ‘I had a shower this morning. I have a shower every day.’

  Sensei Dave sniffed the air. ‘You smell like rotten fish, kid. No offense intended. It’s not that bad but if you are going to be grappling with people, they will notice.’ Then, thankfully moving on, Sensei Dave showed me how to force someone to let go without striking them. Depending on where and how they grabbed you, I could turn their attack to my advantage and pin them in seconds. He brought over Ken, another muscular martial arts master but one who was in his late twenties.

  Stepping in close to me, Ken introduced himself and got down into a pose that made him look like a coiled spring. The he stopped. ‘Does anyone else smell rotten fish?’ he asked. My face coloured again, my embarrassment making it feel like heat was radiating out from my cheeks.

  Sensei Dave said something that sounded like Japanese and Ken went back into his crouching pose. Then, using Ken for me to practice on, Sensei Dave let me pin Ken about a hundred times.

  Here’s the thing about martial arts though: you have to get really, really close to the other person. All the time. I was getting a little sweaty but that wasn’t what was going through my mind when Sensei Dave took me onto hip throws. To perform a hip throw I had to turn and shove my bum toward Ken’s hip. Only thing is, I kept getting it wrong and bumping up against his junk instead.

  And I think he was letting me.

  He then confirmed my suspicions when, while lying on the floor for the umpteenth time, he winked at me.

  Before I knew it, the session had ended, but there was no doubt that I had enjoyed it. I felt confident, like I could walk into a fight right now and take out twelve guys as if I had been imbued with the power of Bruce Lee during one sixty-minute class. As Sensei Dave reviewed the class and talked about what he had planned for the next one, I decided I had to sign up for more.

  Then it was time to go, students and instructors alike all heading for the changing rooms. I knew I would have to go through the rigmarole of putting all my Jane outfit back on and all the makeup and hair that went with it but I wasn’t going to do that in front of all the older men that would judge and whisper.

  I followed Sensei Dave instead. ‘How do I sign up for more classes, please?’

  Sensei Dave was putting items into a sports bag and starting to take off his dojo outfit. ‘You can do that online. We have classes most nights which cover different aspects of self-defense, including some that specialize in disarming people with knives and guns. Or you can fill out a form right now. Ken can take you through it.

  Sensei Dave nodded his head in the direction of Ken, who had his top off now to reveal his well-developed pecs and washboard abs. He smiled at me in a way that went directly to my groin. An unwelcome but unavoidable reaction was taking place three feet south of my mouth and, as if Ken knew the effect he was having, he chose that moment to drop his trousers.

  ‘You okay, kid?’ asked Sensei Dave, seeing me staring brainlessly across the changing room with my mouth open.

  I said, ‘Mmfffghl,’ to demonstrate that I was just fine, then shook my head and walked quickly away before anyone noticed my erection.

  ‘Not that way,’ Sensei Dave called after me as I tried to get back into the dojo. ‘I locked up already.’ I had my back to the room, willing my penis to go back to sleep so I wouldn’t scare or freak out all the nice old men who were undoubtedly already staring at me.

  Someone tapped me on the arm. ‘Whatcha doing?’ It was Ken. He was still naked and was also now grinning at me. ‘You might want to deal with that,’ he said with a quick nod toward my groin. ‘I could help if you want to wait for the others to leave. I have a bit in the middle of my back I just can’t reach. Maybe… you can wash my back and I’ll…’ he leaned into whisper the last part, delivering a suggestion that ensured my current trouser problem wasn’t going away any time soon.

  Knowing what he had done and leaving his words reverberating in my ear, he went for a shower, singing Barbie Girl loud enough for everyone to hear. I thumped my forehead against the gym doors a couple of times and glanced over my shoulder to see if any of the other men in the changing room were leaving yet.

  They were. Various shaking heads and looks of disgust being aimed my way as they went. As Sensei Dave picked up his bag, he called out to me, ‘You’ll need to hurry, kid. Ken will want to lock up soon.’ Then he was gone. I needed a shower and the mighty Ken with his meaty tool were in there waiting for me. I was just going to have to stink.

  Thankfully, the bulge in my trousers was beginning to subside, but just as I thought I could quickly grab my things and get out, Ken stuck his head around the side of the showers and shouted. ‘Are you coming, or what? Put the dress on if you like. I don’t mind a bit of kink.’

  That sure made my mind up. I ran across the changing room, grabbed all my gear from the locker it was in and legged it.

  ‘Hey, where are you going?’ Ken yelled after me, stepping out of the showers to follow. ‘Don’t be shy. We can pretend you’re a girl if you want.’ I glanced back and saw my bra on the floor where I had dropped it. I didn’t want to go back for it, but those things are expensive. Ken smiled when I turned around, he thought I had changed my mind, but then he too saw the bra and started toward it.

  I was much closer, but he started running, building up speed as he came. I snagged the fallen garment and darted back toward the door squealing in fright as I ducked though it and back outside. Then Ken slammed into the doors, the sound making me think he had slipped and the cussing that followed confirmed it.

  I hurried away and got to my car. I was going to have to go home to shower and change and run the gauntlet of
seeing Simon once again.

  My First Stakeout. Saturday, December 3rd 2018hrs

  As agreed, I called Karen from my car to let her know I was on my way and would be arriving soon. The satnav claimed I had five minutes left of my drive to her house but my plan to sneak in around the back would add at least another five minutes to the time. I told her that and asked her to sit tight by the back door. She wasn’t happy about being in the house by herself but she agreed to it, reluctantly telling me she was on her way to the house now.

  Earlier today, she showed me an alleyway that ran between the houses. From it, I could jump a couple of low fences to gain access to her garden. I scoped out as much before I left this afternoon so my confidence in this element of the task was high.

  Simon still wasn’t home when I got there an hour ago, but he had left a note which was sweet of him. It read, ‘Sorry I have been grumpy. I had a tough week and wanted to spend some time having fun with you. Let’s make it up to each other tomorrow.’ There was also a small bunch of flowers with the note, bright pink gerberas which he knew were my favourite.

  Buoyed by his sort of apology, I took my time scrubbing the dead fish smell from my hands and hair and everywhere else. I hadn’t touched the fish with my bare skin but close proximity to it seemed to be enough for the smell to transfer. Not that I could smell it but if Ken and Sensei Dave were anything to go by, it was clear the stench had stayed with me.

  From my wardrobe I selected kick-ass, vampire-killer boots with laces all the way up the outsides, They were such a very dark burgundy they almost looked black and I paired them with black leggings and a little black dress that flared at the waist to ensure I could move my legs freely if I needed to run away or, heaven forbid, protect Karen and myself from the Sandman. Makeup, my blonde wig and a large black handbag in the crook of my right arm. A quick check in the mirror told me I was ready to go and looked good.