Lord Hale's Monster: Blue Moon Investigations New Adult Humorous Fantasy Adventure Series Book 13

by steve higgs

  A loud crashing noise stopped him from answering. In the dark, we looked at each other for a split second. Then as one, we yelled, ‘The library!’ and started running.

  I couldn’t be certain, but I was willing to bet the monster had avoided the bait and gone straight for the library; the crash we just heard, its entry through the ceiling. Running down the dark passageways, neither Big Ben nor I heard or saw Gina and Patience as they came at us from a right angle. All four of us collided in a tangle of limbs and I got someone’s elbow to my lips as we all fought to get back to our feet. Ignoring the taste of blood, I got running again, wondering what I must now look like compared with the neat, tidy, ballgown-clad version of myself that had arrived at dinner a few hours ago.

  Frank called something to me as I ran beneath his hidey-hole, but I didn’t hear what it was. Ahead I could hear Tempest’s father shouting and Mary wailing and cursing. I went around the bend, bouncing off the wall in the passageway in my haste to get to the library, and there, before me, was the monster, its arms raised above its head to reveal terrible talons where its hands should be. The limbs were too long though, obviously fake to my mind, but that was an insignificant factor because it was about to kill Tempest’s dad.

  ‘Hey!’ I screamed, a banshee war cry coming from my lips as I charged into the room. I forgot the grease though, my front foot finding it and spilling me. Out of control as I slid, I could see I was going to hit the table and there was nothing I could do about it. I slammed into it with my whole body, shunting it back two feet so it hit the monster.

  In surprise or shock, the man in the suit danced back in case the table toppled on his feet, but I wasn’t getting up to deal with him or defend anyone. Thankfully, I didn’t have to as my back up arrived in the form of Patience Woods: police officer, angry black woman, and now axe wielding maniac.

  I guess Big Ben didn’t get up fast enough because as I saw her running toward me, Gina was behind her but there was no sign of the giant, muscular man; sisters were doing it for themselves today.

  Unfortunately, Patience had also forgotten about the grease and I couldn’t get my brain working fast enough to shout a warning. She lost control just as I had, her front foot hitting the grease, but she pitched forward rather than skid and the motion sent her arms pinwheeling, the axe flying from her hand to zoom over my head. I didn’t see the strike, tucked behind the table as I was, but I heard it and the crash that followed.

  Feeling pain just about everywhere and still tasting blood from my lips, I grasped the top edge of the upturned table and peered gingerly over it. Hope for the best, plan for the worst and when none of that works, get your BFF to kill a monster with an axe.

  The Guest in the Elevator. Sunday, December 11th 0237hrs

  Mercifully, despite my initial concern, the axe she threw hadn’t taken the monster’s head off. It hadn’t done much damage at all. Through blind luck it was the eye, the bit of the handle that poked through the top, that struck him. Frank, Big Ben and the witches all thundered down the passageway toward us, but met with Gina, who spread her arms and legs to ward them off and prevent a further pile up on the greased floor.

  Being careful where I planted my greasy feet and using my trashed dress to clean the worst of it from them, I climbed over the table to safety. Patience got to her feet as well, though as I turned around to join Tempest’s dad, I heard her shout an expletive. It was followed by a thump as she landed back on her arse, which was in turn followed by a tirade of expletives as she swore revenge on anything that ever got in her way for the rest of all time to come.

  There was no sign of movement from Lord Hale’s monster, save for the gentle rise and fall of its chest. Now that we could get close, I could see how fake it looked. The dark fur covering its body was polyester fibre and I could see the seam beneath its arm. The arms of the person inside the suit ended where the elbows of the monster suit bent so the wearer had to be gripping the forearm using a handle hidden inside. That would give it thrusting power for the knives on its hands which were shaped to look like talons but had probably never been designed for someone to sharpen.

  ‘Be careful, Michael,’ warned Mary, her sudden voice in the tense silence of the room enough to make her husband physically jump. With one hand on his chest and the other supporting his weight as he leaned against a bookcase, he shot a look back at her.

  ‘Why would I worry about him when you can kill me with a word?’ he asked. She poked her tongue out at him.

  Remembering a line from Scooby-Doo, I stifled a grin before it got to my face and said, ‘Let’s get his mask off and see who it is.’ I glanced around but nobody picked up on my reference. Disappointed, I crossed the remaining few yards and grabbed the head. ‘Ben, can you give us a hand.’ I didn’t need Big Ben, anyone could help me, but I wanted the guy out of this suit before he could come around and stab someone; Big Ben was undoubtedly the strongest of everyone present.

  With Big Ben holding the suit’s forearms, Michael and I wrenched the head piece free. It was attached by some electrics, necessary to make the eyes glow, but it came free and we saw the killer for the first time.

  I recognised him instantly. When we arrived, he helped us carry our bags in along with Matthew, the man hunk Patience drooled over. Neither had spoken, but Matthew’s eyes had given the impression there was something going on behind them, this guy’s hadn’t. He was a hulking brute of a man, which given the size of the monster, should have been obvious. His head, the only bit we could see at the moment, was like a lump of granite, his close-cropped hair revealing scars on his scalp, and his nose was a flattened mess, partly because that was where the axe had hit him. It struck me that he was the same size as Brian Carruthers, the dead guy in the elevator, which made sense because it was supposed to be Brian in the suit, not this guy. I couldn’t remember his name though I knew Travis had introduced him earlier.

  Convinced he would soon come around and hoping he would so we could quiz him, I got Michael to help me to sit him up. Ten minutes later, he was out of the suit and tied to a table leg with his hands and feet tied separately. Manoeuvring him had taken six people, because he weighed so much. His entire body was muscle, not like a body builder, more like a person that spent their working life lifting heavy things – basically he reminded me of a forklift truck.

  He was starting to come around, his head twitching as if asleep and his eyelids fluttering. I gave his face a tap.

  ‘Don’t tickle him,’ growled Big Ben. ‘Punch him in his ugly mouth.’ I shot him a disparaging look. ‘Hey, he cut a hole in me. There’s some score to even.’

  I tapped his face again, slightly harder this time, but in no way violent. I had too much police training in me to start abusing prisoners. His eyes snapped open, saw me and he jerked his whole body as he tried to get up. The bindings held, trapping him in place. ‘Hello, I’m Amanda. Can we start by doing introductions?’ I kept my tone polite and engaging, I needed answers.

  ‘Where’s Lord Hale?’ he growled back at me, looking all around the thirteen faces looking at him. ‘I want him, and I want that git, Parrish. Give me them and the rest of you can go free. They have to die though.’

  ‘Why?’ I asked, it was a simple question, though not the one I intended to ask first.

  He stopped looking about and focused on me. ‘You don’t need to know why. Just give them to me and I’ll let you live.’ Back during my time in the police, I had to interview a lot of people. Some of them were innocent, caught up by being in the wrong place at the wrong time but a lot of them were hardened criminals, like this guy, and I had never been any good at convincing them to reveal what I wanted to know.

  I tried a new tactic. ‘Lord Hale escaped. You knocked out the power, didn’t you? You wanted us down here so you could kill your targets but you forgot to lock the stairs and he escaped through them. Now you are trapped down here just like us.’ I was guessing some of it, assuming he had accessed the basement via the stairs, but his eyes be
trayed the truth of it. ‘Tell us the code to the elevator and I promise we will leave you here. Maybe you escape the ropes, maybe you don’t, you get nothing if you don’t help us first.’ He said nothing, glaring at me with angry eyes. Then he flexed his broad shoulders and tried to break the string holding him in place. I worried for a moment that he might be able to, but he gave up after a few seconds, veins standing out on his forehead from the effort. ‘We need the code for the elevator. No one gets to go anywhere until you give us that.’

  ‘I don’t know it,’ he snapped at me. ‘I’m not deemed worthy enough to have it.’

  This was better, now he was talking, and he just told us something. Now I had to use it to get more details. ‘You’re a footman here at the house, so what’s your beef with Lord Hale and Dr Parrish?’ He didn’t reply, but he looked like he wanted to. ‘They don’t have any connections apart from their escape room / murder mystery business idea. What did they do to you?’ Then it hit me: How would he know to dress as the monster? Better yet, how would he know to turn up tonight? ‘They didn’t give you the job as the monster, did they? Or did they give you the job and then fire you?’ I waited a few seconds for him to answer, crouching in front of his face to make as much eye contact as possible.

  Then, when I took a breath to ask the next question, he interrupted me. ‘I was the right man for the job. They just refused to see it.’

  ‘For the job as the monster?’ I asked tentatively, not sure I had it right.

  ‘I played stage and screen monsters. I’ve been in six episodes of Dr Who over five different seasons. They weren’t going to find a better monster. So, they gave the role to that two-bit hack Brian.’ Then he chuckled to himself. ‘You should have seen his face when he found me in the suit. He thought the monster had really come to life. Not even the old man thinks the story is true but darken the lights, play the part well and everyone is terrified whether they want to be or not.’

  My thoughts skipped to Tempest. He hadn’t been afraid. He had been curious. The last time I saw him, he had blood coming from his head. That was hours ago, and I had no idea if he was alright or not. I forced down my emotions but because no one was talking, I think every single one of us heard the elevator’s motor hum into life. It is a distinctive enough sound for me to not question what my ears believed I could hear.

  I jumped to my feet, but I wasn’t the only one moving; others were coming with me. I forgot the lump on the floor, abandoning him to see who was coming and if they were going to rescue us or present us with a new problem. Jumping to get over the greasy bit of the floor, I paused to let Big Ben go into the passageway first; he still carried the axe in one meaty fist and would be the perfect person to receive our visitors no matter what their intentions.

  We arrived at the elevator and only then did I realise my error. The sound we heard was the elevator moving. It had been on our floor; it wasn’t now. Someone above had summoned it, so now it was travelling up to them. We were still trapped.

  There was no sound in the passageway and most of the remaining dinner guests waited with bated breath to see what would happen next. We all heard someone get into the elevator. Just one person I thought. They paused once inside, possibly wondering what to do with Brian’s body, which I decided had to be the case when we heard them drag his body from the car. It sounded like a difficult task. A moment later, the single set of footsteps returned but it was followed by another set. Then the elevator started moving again, coming our way for certain and I got ready to charge the occupant. Whoever it was, I was going to make sure we could secure our way out. Dr Parrish was alive but still unconscious and he needed help, so all I could think about was forcing our way back to the surface. From there we could break out of the house, find help, and find out what was going on. Our options weren’t infinite but right now we had no options at all.

  I almost felt sorry for the occupant of the elevator because whoever it was, they were about to get a nasty shock.

  The car jerked to a halt and the motor stopped humming just before the doors slid open. I could feel my mouth all but snarling as I poised like a sprinter crossed with a wrestler, ready to pounce.

  ‘Hello, Amanda,’ said Tempest through the expanding gap in the door. ‘Did I miss anything?’

  I sobbed. It wasn’t faked or forced; it was just what my body did in response to seeing him. I couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry or just wrap him up in a hug, but he was upright and alright and still looking great. His jacket was gone, much like Big Ben’s and he had blood on his white shirt from the cut to his head. His bow tie was untied, the ends hanging loose from his collar, but he looked otherwise unscathed. Despite that, he was being partly held up by Lady Emily Pinkerton, who I now knew was called Anne Richman. I spotted her profile on Dr Parrish’s Employable app. Another failed actor no doubt but one who was, hopefully, on our side.

  Big Ben put the end of the axe’s handle on the floor and leaned on it. ‘Where have you been, slack bladder? Having a nice lie down? A cup of tea and biscuit?’ He was teasing, equally glad to see his friend but the two men would never acknowledge any kind of brotherly feelings out loud.

  The elevator doors tried to close, Big Ben’s enormous foot stopping them. Tempest’s dad pushed through to the front of the crowd now surrounding the elevator. ‘How you doing, kid?’

  ‘I have a concussion,’ said Tempest with confidence. ‘My eyes won’t work right, and I am quite off balance but otherwise I am fine. I hit my head on a chunk of stone it would seem though I don’t actually remember doing so.’

  ‘We saw you,’ I said, offering my hand to get him out of the elevator, then stopping myself. ‘Do you have a code for this thing? How did you get it to move?’

  ‘I have the code,’ Anne said, speaking for the first time.

  Tempest shook his head as if trying to clear it. ‘Yes, Anne had the code. We found Brian Carruthers by the way. He’s supposed to be the monster. Someone strangled him, I think. He was in the elevator.’

  ‘We found him too,’ I said quietly.

  A tear rolled down Anne’s cheek. ‘He was such a sweet man. We moved him and… well, I want to say he is comfortable now.’ She trailed off, looking like she had more to say, but making no attempt to say it.

  ‘Can we leave now, Tempest?’ asked his mother. ‘I have had a really crappy evening and I want to go home.’

  ‘Yes, about that,’ he replied, trying to straighten himself up. ‘We have a minor problem upstairs.’

  Concussion, Injuries, and a Prisoner. Sunday, December 11th 0249hrs

  ‘Hey guys! What’s going on? Is everything okay?’ Frank’s voice echoed through to us from the library where he was undoubtedly shouting down the passageway to learn if we were all being murdered or not.

  Professor Wiseman was nearest the passageway. ‘It’s Tempest and Anne. Nothing to worry about,’ he shouted back.

  ‘There’s a whole lot of activity going on.’ That was Tempest’s big news. He was clearly concussed or something because he was slow putting his thoughts across.

  Anne picked up his story. ‘We had to wait ages for the coast to be clear so we could get down to you.’

  Tempest added, ‘Not that I was sure you were still down here, of course.’ He looked around at everyone, all of us were staring at him and he seemed to be seeing us for the first time. ‘You, ah… you all look a lot rougher than I expected. What did I miss?’ he asked for a second time.

  I felt sorry for him. Tempest had a naturally guilty conscience and always wanted to protect everyone, even when it was vastly impractical. There was no time for that though. ‘Dr Parrish is injured, he’s lost a lot of blood so whatever we are going to do, we need to do it soon, he just can’t wait.’

  He nodded in understanding. ‘The only way we can do this is by bypassing the ground floor and heading to the upper floors. There are too many people on the ground floor, and they are busy.’

  ‘Busy doing what?’ asked his mother. ‘Why can’t
we ask them for help?’

  It was Anne who replied, ‘They are up to something. I don’t know what, but they are armed. We almost ran into them when I took Tempest back up to the surface to treat his headwound.’

  I Interrupted her, ‘Armed? Armed how?’

  She pulled a face to express she wasn’t sure what the right words were. ‘They all have guns. Big black nasty ones.’ This was not good news, but it did explain a few things. It also created several more questions. ‘I’m not sure what they are doing,’ she explained. ‘Because too much snooping would have got us caught, or, at least, have increased the likelihood that we would get caught.’

  Tempest spoke again, ‘Lady Emily… oh, did you know she was an actress? Her name’s not Emily at all.’ Poor Tempest thought he was revealing a big secret. ‘Her accent changed once we were away from everyone, that was my first hint.’

  He was wandering off topic. ‘Tempest, the people upstairs?’ I reminded him.

  ‘Hmmm?’

  ‘I think perhaps we should get you sat down somewhere.’ I went into the elevator to move him to one side. His eyes didn’t seem to be meeting in the middle, it was like he was drugged or drunk or something. Doing some mental math, I figured we could get everyone into the elevator, but it was going to be a struggle with Dr Parrish because he wouldn’t be standing up.

  ‘Oh,’ said Anne suddenly. ‘I just remembered. They kept saying the name Alexander. Lord Hale showed up and was shouting about it. He seemed very upset and wanted him found. Is he down here somewhere? He’s one of Lord Hale’s footmen.’

  Bingo, I had the man’s name. Not that it made a lot of difference. He was already in custody. Regardless, it was time to get moving. ‘Ben, can you keep an eye on Tempest?’

  ‘Don’t you want a hand with Dr Parrish? Someone’s got to carry him. I’m the obvious choice.’ He wasn’t bragging, he was just the biggest and strongest in the crowd. In almost any crowd for that matter.