The Phantom of Barker Mill

by steve higgs

  However, when I got to the top of the stairs what I saw was a young lady where James should be sat. She wore a pair of thin-framed, designer glasses and had loose curls of blond hair cascading over one shoulder. I could not see much of her face from the door, it was covered by her hair, but she looked up as I came in.

  ‘Good morning, boss.’ she said in a man’s voice.

  OMFG. It was James.

  ‘You look a little stunned, boss. Is there something wrong?' he asked, the voice sounding completely alien coming from the cherry red lips. My brain was working overtime to keep my mouth from speaking as I was not sure what words might come out of it. I was not bothered that my new assistant liked to wear ladies clothing. Well, not exactly. I had always held with the opinion that people should be allowed to do as they please provided their actions do not negatively affect others. My brain though was struggling to accept the image and the sound had been generated in the same place. It was like watching someone play the trumpet but hearing the noise of a piano come from it. The disturbing part was that James as a girl was not unattractive. If I passed him/her in the way, I might glance twice.

  ‘Err, good morning, James.

  ‘It’s, um. It’s Jane.’ he/she replied with some hesitation.

  ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘I have two personalities fighting for dominance.' he/she said with a little more confidence as if they were rehearsed words that had been said in explanation many times before. ‘You know my male side, James. Well, this is my feminine persona, Jane.'

  I like to think that I am hard to shock. I have seen a lot of the world’s ugly bits, been exposed to the dregs of mankind etcetera and it was not so much that my new employee’s habits were shocking; they were not. I had not anticipated them though. I was having trouble making my jaw work. I wanted to ask if I needed to stock the toilet with feminine products for his/her needs.

  In the end, I went with, ‘Jolly good, James. I mean, Jane.'

  ‘Would you like a coffee?’ he/she asked.

  ‘Err, yes. I suppose I would.’

  This was an unexpected or at least unplanned benefit. I had hired an assistant to perform tasks that were taking up too much of my time. Time that I felt would be better spent engaged in more profitable endeavours. Fetching me coffee was not one of them. However, I saw no reason why I could not fetch the coffee on occasion so that the task was reciprocal. Perhaps Amanda would also want coffee and thus the three of us could take turns. Anyway, coffee sounded good, so I pulled a fresh ten pounds note from my wallet and gave Jane my order.

  Jane collected her handbag from the floor by the desk, dropped her phone into it and left the office, shrugging on her coat as she did.

  I settled into the chair behind the desk, finding it still warm from her bottom and scanned my emails. This was something I would do less and less now I suppose as I would be training Jane/James to identify which emails or calls were of merit.

  Less than two minutes after she had left the office, I heard the door at the bottom of the stairs open again to herald her return. Surely, she had not been gone long enough to have even got to the coffee shop, so had she forgotten my very simple order or was there something else forcing her premature return?

  It was not Jane though, but Big Ben’s grinning head that appeared around my door frame.

  ‘Alright, nosher?’ he asked

  ‘Generally, in England, people start with good morning.' I responded.

  ‘Only because they lack imagination and panache.’

  ‘Good morning, Ben. What are you doing here?' I checked my watch: 0911hrs. ‘Are you not normally in bed underneath a supermodel at this time of the day?'

  ‘That would not be unusual, but last night’s shag was an air hostess and had a flight this morning. She left in the middle of the night.’

  ‘I guess that sounds entirely plausible. It fails to explain your presence here though. Not that you are not welcome, of course.’

  ‘I have a golf game and got the time wrong, so I am out of the house an hour early with nothing to do. Your office is on the way to the course, so I decided to stop off here, get some breakfast in one of the many delightful shops and pop in to annoy you.’

  ‘Of course, you did.’ Big Ben had been leaning against the office door frame until now but finally came in and flopped into one of the chairs by the window.

  ‘Hold on. I can smell perfume.' he sniffed deeply and wiggled his nose about a bit. ‘That's Princess by Vera Wang. High-end stuff mate, not your average high street brand. Rich client in this morning already?' he asked.

  I was impressed by his olfactory system. ‘How can you possibly tell the brand and bottle?’ I asked.

  ‘How? It has a very oriental flower centred scent. Launched in 2006 it celebrates youth and femininity as its top notes deliver aquatic nuances with the pure and sharp scents of water lily, apple, mandarin and apricot but the heart of the perfume is composed of guava, tiare flower, tuberose and a touch of dark chocolate. The base notes, if one can discern them, deliver traces of vanilla and amber. It is quite distinct from anything else on the market.’

  My mouth was hanging open. I had known Big Ben for years and this was the most articulate he had ever been about anything. I could not discern one perfume from another. I struggled to tell my own collection of aftershaves apart.

  Big Ben was looking at me as a teacher might to a dull student. ‘You have to know your enemy, mate. Otherwise what chance do you have of defeating her?’

  I was still a little stunned. ‘Actually, you are smelling my new assistant.’ I managed.

  Big Ben sat bolt upright, leaning forward in his chair to lock eyes with me. A devilish grin on his face. ‘Did you go and hire a saucy young assistant to shag?'

  ‘Ah, not exactly.’

  ‘Is she really friggin hot? She is, isn't she? You hired a sexy minxette and were not even going to tell me. Did you shag her at the interview or afterward?'

  ‘It is not really like that, Ben.’

  ‘In what way?’ he asked, face all quizzical.

  ‘Well, to start with Jane is… and then I stopped myself. ‘It would not be appropriate for me to have anything other than a professional relationship with her. We are going to work together. Possibly for years if she proves worthy of retaining and wishes to stay, so I am afraid I can report that no shagging has or will take place.'

  ‘Well, bollocks to that. I shall assume that since you have not placed dibs on her that I am free to give her a jolly good ploughing myself.' It was a statement of intent, not a question.

  ‘I think I hear her returning with coffee now, so feel free to work your undeniable charm.' I was failing to keep the mirth from my face, but if he had noticed it there he was not reacting to it.

  ‘Watch and learn, Padawan.' Big Ben stood up as we listened to Jane coming up the stairs. He took off his jacket, revealing his muscular frame sheathed in a short-sleeved polo beneath. Standing in place, he pumped his muscles a few times and felt his teeth to ensure there was nothing stuck in them.

  Jane reached the top of the stairs where I met her to take my coffee and make the introduction. ‘Jane this is Ben. He is an old friend of mine and often contracts for the firm when I have dangerous work or need the extra muscle.’ I indicated his impressive arms.

  Big Ben took a step forward and extended his hand towards Jane who took it gently. Big Ben had an engaging smile set firmly in place. ‘Good morning, Jane. This is an unexpected surprise. Tempest always surrounds himself with the most beautiful women.’

  ‘Thank you very much.’ Jane replied in her best bass-baritone.

  My face was beginning to hurt from holding in my smirk. I watched as Big Ben's confident smile froze in place. He looked down at the hand he was holding and saw that it was not the delicate feminine one he ought to see but was instead quite meaty and manly with some hair on the knuckles. He looked back up at Jane's face, taking in the Adam's apple on the way. The frozen smile fell away as if it were held t
here by marionette strings that had just been severed.

  ‘Is everything alright?’ I asked him.

  His mouth flapped open and closed a couple of times and he withdrew his hand. ‘Err, yes.' He managed. ‘Yes, of course. Are you pre, or post-op?' he asked Jane. He recovered well, I'll give him that.

  ‘Neither, actually.' Jane replied. ‘I just have two versions of myself. One female, one male, but all male genitalia.' Jane looked down at the coffee cup she now held with both hands then looked back up at Big Ben in a shy way, sort of peering through her blonde hair and idly dragging one long fingernail around the top of the plastic cup lid. ‘I am available, actually. If you would like to take me out sometime.' Somehow, he had managed to make his deep voice sound quite demure.

  Big Ben’s face was fighting with itself to decide which expression should be displayed. Horror and revulsion were being beaten down by suave coolness, but they were there in the background nonetheless. ‘I’ll pass I think. I’m strictly no sausage.’ He checked his watch. ‘Better go in fact. I don’t want to keep the chaps waiting and miss our tee time.’ He reached behind him to snag his jacket from the chair, slipped into it and squeezed past me to get to the door. ‘You are a dick.’ He whispered on his way past.

  I chuckled to myself. That had been fun, but I suspected he would get his own back at some point.

  ‘Will there be much of that?’ Jane asked.

  ‘Much of what?’

  ‘You using my female side to surprise your friends?’ I hadn’t thought about this from Jane’s point of view. ‘I just want to know so that I can be prepared.’

  ‘Jane, please accept my apologies. That was entirely unplanned, and I failed to consider your emotions. I have no plan to spring anything like that on you again. Thank you for playing along though.’

  ‘I thought he might recognise me. I don’t think I look all that different as a girl.’

  ‘Well, you do.’

  Raid on Brett Barker. Wednesday, 13th October 1100hrs

  As promised, Amanda arrived at 1000hrs almost exactly. She had called from the car with the intention that I would come down to meet her outside. Instead, I invited her up to the office explaining that I had hired an assistant for the firm.

  At 1003hrs Amanda could be heard climbing the stairs. She entered the office with a breezy ‘Good morning.’

  ‘Hey there. How are you this morning?’ I replied with genuine interest. I was in a good mood and looking forward to ruining Brett Barker’s day. Amanda and I had been on edge for a few days now. it had started with her running into Hayley at mine on Sunday and had not improved with me getting arrested on Monday and the discussion about my feelings regarding her.

  ‘I’m fine, Tempest.’ she replied. She was taking off her jacket and had her back to me when she said it.

  ‘Uh-oh.’ I said.

  ‘Uh-oh?’

  ‘I know I seem generally confused around women, but I have enough ex-girlfriends to know where the term fine sits on the scale.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ she asked, her expression turning stony.

  I suddenly felt like a pit was opening beneath me. Pressing on presented itself as the safest option. ‘Women, in general, have a scale of contentment. It goes in descending order like this: Great, good, okay, not okay, I hate you, fine. When a girl says I’m fine a chap should look for a shield or leave the area.’

  ‘That is absolutely dead on correct.’ said Jane speaking for the first time in front of Amanda.

  ‘Woah.’ said Amanda. She was now staring at Jane.

  ‘Hi.’ said Jane. ‘I’m Jane.’ She got up from behind the desk and came around to shake Amanda’s hand.

  ‘Pleased to meet you. I’m Amanda, the other detective here.’

  ‘We should go.’ I said butting in. ‘You ladies can get to know each other later.’

  I sort of pushed Amanda back out the office door forcing her to release Jane’s hand which she was still gripping in wonder.

  In the car park, Amanda managed to throw off her initial shock. ‘You know that Jane is a guy, right?'

  ‘Of course. He was a guy when I hired him. Then when he turned up for work today he was no longer James but was Jane instead. I was a little thrown by it, but I don't think it makes much difference if he comes to work in boxer shorts or balancing his junk in a silk thong. If he can manage the office paperwork, emails and calls then he can stay.'

  ‘He smells good.’

  ‘It’s Princess by Vera Wang.’ I said with knowing authority.

  Amanda stared at me, clearly wondering how I could possibly know what perfume he/she was wearing.

  ‘Know your enemy?’ I tried. She raised one eyebrow inviting me to try again. ‘Big Ben came by right before you and instantly knew what it was.’

  ‘Right. It makes sense that he would be able to tell perfumes apart. Did he hit on her?’

  ‘Yup. Funniest five minutes of my life.’

  We got into her car during the exchange and pulled out of the car park. We were once again on our way to Dartford where I hoped to find the vital piece of evidence I needed to nail Brett Barker for his grandfather’s death.

  ‘You seem rather chipper this morning.' Observed Amanda cutting her eyes to me. She had not bothered to respond to my thoughts on what the term fine meant but was clearly still not entirely happy with me.

  I decided to smile back anyway. ‘I am still irked that I walked into Brett’s trap on Monday and I am pleased that he appears to be guilty after all. I am allowing myself to revel in the sweet joy of righteous revenge. I realise that it was I that walked into the trap, it is all on me, but I also think he is guilty and it looks like I can prove it. The money paid to Martin Wilkins ought to be sufficient to get the Police involved once more and to have them investigate further.

  ‘We should speak with Mr. Wilkins first.'

  ‘I tried. He no longer works at Palmer Pharmaceuticals and I have not been able to track him down yet. The police will find him if we give them sufficient cause to look for him.’

  ‘So, why not hand what you have over to them now?’ she asked.

  ‘Because the bank transaction is not enough by itself. If I find something to corroborate my theory I can hand over a solved case. If I find nothing, then I will have to hand them what I have but given his arrogance and confidence I believe he will still have something we can use to nail him, and my bet is we will find it in his house.'

  ‘You don’t like him. Why is that?’

  ‘Apart from because he got my mum thrown into a cell for the night?' My smile had gone now. Why did I take such issue with Brett Barker? He had not actually done anything to me. He was desperately over privileged and offensively arrogant, but I met plenty of people like that. He was a criminal, but I came across plenty of those as well. He had hit on Amanda and that was where my loathing has started.

  ‘Nearly there.' Amanda announced to break my train of thought. Sure enough, we were pulling off the motorway and closing in on the Barker Mansion.

  Amanda had remained quiet for the last couple of miles while I was deep in thought about Brett Barker and my dislike for him. I had a question for her now though. ‘What are your thoughts on Brett Barker? You seemed to hit it off. If he were not guilty of murder would you entertain seeing him socially?’

  ‘Would I go on a date with the handsome, athletic, single multi-millionaire?’

  ‘Fair point.’ I conceded.

  Amanda swung her car into the drive, through the vast gates, and down the long driveway to the house. We passed under the canopy of trees that stood like sentries lining the route on either side.

  ‘Is that a Zebra?' Amanda asked, staring out of the window.

  ‘They have a small herd.’

  ‘I like him more all the time.’

  As we pulled in front of the house, Mrs. Barker stepped out to greet us in person.

  ‘Good morning, Mrs. Barker.' I said getting out of the car and shaking her hand. ‘This is my colleague
Amanda Harper.' Amanda was coming around the car and extended her own hand.

  ‘Good morning.’ she said.

  ‘Good morning. Are you the police officer?' Mrs. Barker asked.

  ‘I am. For a few more days at least.’

  ‘Very good. I have a key to the North Wing. That's Brett's area of the house.' She added in explanation. ‘Do you need to do anything first, or can we begin?' Mrs. Barker seemed heady with excitement and eager for us to get on with it.

  I looked across at Amanda. 'Is there anything?'

  ‘We have the homeowner’s permission to search. That pretty much ticks every box from a legal standpoint. There are no formalities to observe so we can just start.’ she replied.

  I turned back to Mrs. Barker. ‘Please show us the way.' She spun back towards the house leaving us to catch up.

  As we crossed the vast gravel drive, she had questions. ‘What exactly are you looking for?'

  ‘Evidence, to put it simply. Any correspondence, either by email or otherwise between him and persons at Palmer Pharmaceuticals. Any physical evidence.'

  ‘Like what?’ she asked.

  ‘Like boxes of pills with the fake drug inside would be good.’ I said as a joke but refrained from laughing. ‘Anything that will give rise to have the police reopen the case and conduct a proper criminal investigation.’ I was checking Amanda’s expression to see if she disagreed or felt I was being overly optimistic. If she had any thoughts on the matter her face was not showing them.

  Mr. Barker led us into the house through the main doors and across the marble floor of the atrium to the left-hand side of the grand staircase. As we climbed the stairs, I began to worry that I might not find anything today. It felt like a very real possibility. Brett may have never brought anything incriminating into the house. Or his office for that matter. Would the testimony of Martin Wilkins be sufficient? Not that I had his testimony or had even been able to talk to him. If he no longer worked at Palmer Pharmaceutical would I be able to track him down? Would the police reopen the case with just a credit card payment that looked a bit fishy?