Blue Moon Investigations series Boxed Set 2

by steve higgs

  ‘It’s mostly girl-girl stuff but I am thinking of branching out into…’

  ‘You were telling me about Tiffany.’ Amanda interrupted thankfully before I got to hear what Stacy might branch out into.

  ‘Oh, yeah. She should be back soon. She had a home delivery to take care of?’

  ‘Home delivery?’ I repeated dumbly, missing the point.

  ‘Yes, that’s when we go to someone’s house for sex rather than them picking us up somewhere.’ Stacy supplied.

  Lovely.

  ‘Anyway.’ Amanda tried to steer Stacy back onto the topic of interest. ‘You recognised the man in the photograph I showed you.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s Martin. He always says his name is Bob, but Tiffany and I learned to check bloke’s wallets for their driving license long ago. Much safer to know a bloke’s real name. He’s a regular.’

  ‘And the girl in the picture?' Amanda prompted, holding the picture up so I could see it was the one taken by the speed camera.

  ‘That’s Tiffany.’

  Amanda put the photograph away. ‘It would seem that Martin likes to pick up young ladies for sex. I am not sure what we are supposed to do with the case now. He wants us to prove that the lady in the photograph is a ghost. The only thing we can show is that it is not.’ Amanda was clearly asking my opinion about what to do next.

  I scratched my head, both physically and mentally. Did we expose him to his wife? It felt like the decent thing to do. Did I then return his money? No, we had been paid to conduct an investigation and had done so. It had cost us time and we billed hours even when we did not arrive at a successful conclusion. So, the bill stood, but what about the result? It wasn't my job to balance the scales in their marriage or stand in judgment of other people's actions. I investigated and reported my findings. Often this resulted in a criminal prosecution for someone because they had committed a crime. Again, I passed no judgement.

  ‘I think this is the same as any other case. Our investigation is concluded so your next task is to present the client with a written report detailing our findings.’

  She nodded. ‘I’ll go back to the office and do that now.’ Amanda turned back to Stacy and thanked her for her time. Stacy shrugged.

  Back outside the house in the cool Autumn air, I paused waiting for Amanda to join me. Spending time with Amanda was… unsettling. Finding the right word was difficult. Even after distracting myself with Hayley and Roberta, and even with the impending date with the gorgeous Natasha, I was still undeniably bewitched by her. There was something about her, something intangible that to me meant that she would always be…’

  ‘Were you waiting for me?’ Amanda’s voice suddenly by my ear made me start.

  I turned to face her. ‘Sort of.' I replied. I was looking at her beautiful, wonderful face again. I had just been thinking about her, my entire train of thought focused on how perfect I thought she was and now she was standing in front of me once more, waiting for me to speak. I tried to find something intelligent to say. I failed. ‘I hadn't decided what to do next. You said you were heading back to the office?'

  ‘It feels like the case is closed. This is how it works, isn't it? I select cases, I solve the cases and bill the hours, right?'

  ‘That’s what I do.’ I replied.

  She nodded, looking to the middle distance while she thought. I wondered what she was thinking. Then she looked at me again and an uncomfortable silence stretched out for a few seconds while we both waited for the other to speak.

  Then, inevitably, we both tried to speak at the same time, stopped, tried again and finally, I held up my hands and asked her to go first.

  ‘Will you be in the office tomorrow?'

  ‘That is my current plan.' I considered that for a moment. ‘Maybe we should make it a standard thing that we meet at the office each day before we go off to tackle our casework.'

  ‘Okay. Sounds good. So… see you in the morning?’

  ‘Yup.’ I turned to go then turned back. ‘You know, I really was trying to fight her off earlier. She caught me by surprise and then you walked in before I had a chance to do anything.’

  Amanda grinned at me. What the heck did that mean? ‘Tempest.’ she looked down, smiling, then looked back up with a lopsided grin. ‘You are a good-looking guy, women are going to be drawn to you. It doesn’t surprise me. Don’t worry about it.’

  I just stared at her, dumbfounded. I had no response. I was treading water, lost in a sea of relationship confusion. Before I could form a coherent response, she chucked me on the arm and headed down the street towards her car.

  I watched her go, her perfect bottom swaying from side to side rhythmically as she went. I sighed and turned my eyes away. I shouldn’t be looking at it anyway.

  I needed to buy flowers. I had a date with an attractive woman that was, in contrast to Amanda, actually interested in me. I needed to focus on her and take my head out of the clouds.

  I took a final look at the sky and as Amanda drove by me with a brief wave out her window, I started walking toward the town centre where I knew there was a good florist.

  Buying Flowers. Tuesday, November 8th 1515hrs

  I had been in the flower shop many times before. The flowers I had bought there though were more often for my mother than they were for a lady I was romantically interested in. Today was different. Today I was buying flowers for an elegant, well-spoken, eligible lady I was taking out for dinner. I selected a simple spray of carnations as they looked healthy and the florist had them in a variety of pink hues. They were paired with an abundance of green foliage and wrapped for delivery. I swiped my card to complete the transaction and left the flowers to be dropped off at Natasha’s address in the morning.

  Task complete, I left the shop confident that Natasha would feel suitably positive about her choice to join me for dinner. I decided to head home. Jagjit had asked me to be his best man so I had a speech to consider. I also had the small problem of Hilary to deal with. His presence in my house was nothing more than a minor inconvenience at the moment, but that was because I believed it to be temporary. I needed to get him back on his feet and back with his wife and kids.

  Arriving home a few minutes later though, a sense of dread settled into the pit of my stomach.

  Big Ben’s car was parked on my drive.

  I walked through my front door, stepping over the Dachshunds as I closed it behind me. I expected to hear voices coming from the kitchen or the lounge, but the house was silent. I called out anyway, then poked my head through a couple of doors when no answer came back. The dogs were whizzing around my feet, standing on the toes of my shoes whenever I stopped moving long enough for them to do so. They wanted my attention and I could not tell how long it had been since they were last outside, so I grabbed their leads, popped their collars over their heads and encouraged them back out the front door.

  If Hilary and Big Ben were not here, then they were most likely in the pub. I started walking in that direction. It was cool out bordering on cold. The forlorn trees were now all but bereft of leaves, clutching pathetically at one here and one there as they fluttered in the breeze. Soon winter would be upon us and my small dogs would need to wear their specially made coats whenever I took them out. Today, for the short walk I had planned, there was no need for such protection.

  I guessed right. I could see Big Ben’s head through the window of the pub as I approached. Both he and Hilary were in our usual spot, a half empty glass of beer in front of each. They looked up as I entered.

  ‘Chaps.’ I said in greeting. Hilary looked better than he had this morning, not that it would have been hard to achieve an improvement.

  ‘Hey, Tempest.’ replied Big Ben. Hilary nodded his greeting. ‘Hair of the dog for the ailing man.’ Big Ben explained.

  I looked at the bar. I had no intention of drinking, I would get a water if the landlord appeared, but he was absent, probably somewhere in the back doing a vital task of some kind. I took a seat.

&n
bsp; ‘How are you feeling?’ I asked Hilary.

  He took a sip of beer. ‘Much better, thanks. Sorry about yesterday. And this morning. And for the whole thing really, I guess.’

  ‘I felt bad about him following my daft advice.’ Big Ben cut in. ‘So, I came to make amends and get him back on the right path.’

  ‘Jolly good. I’m sure Anthea will be only too pleased to have you back. Have you spoken with her already?’

  ‘What? Oh, no I’m not moving back home. I’m going after a younger version with bigger boobs. That has always been Big Ben’s advice on how to get over a breakup. I’ve heard him tell you and Jagjit and others exactly that several times.’

  I narrowed my eyes at Big Ben. At least he had the decency to look embarrassed. ‘I’m not sure that should apply in your case, mate.’ I said.

  ‘Nonsense.’ Hilary scoffed. ‘I need to get me some new boobies. I called this one,’ He indicated Big Ben with his head, ‘to give me some advice on picking up women. I know it is all he ever talks about but, to be honest, I have never actually listened before.’

  This sounded like a terrible plan. Hilary needed to go home to his wife and children. He also needed to improve the terms of his relationship with his wife so that she didn’t push him around so much, but that was just the kind of man that he was. Were he able to change, I suspected that he would have done so a long time ago.

  He hadn’t done talking though. ‘I also think I should look at new career options. I have been doing the same job ever since I left school. It’s boring.’

  ‘What do you propose?’ I asked, hoping we could talk about jobs and not women for a while and maybe circle back to the subject of not cheating on his wife shortly.

  ‘I’m not sure. I thought I might try a few different things. See what I like.’

  Okay. Well, at least he hadn’t settled on a new career already. Now I just needed to convince him to avoid doing something rash with a free-thinking local lady and hope that he didn’t feel the need to keep his date with the awful barmaid from the Watermill pub in the next village.

  ‘It’s all quite liberating being kicked out by one’s wife. I have never felt so free, so filled with opportunity. What shall we do tonight?’ Hilary enquired

  ‘I have a couple of dates.’ Big Ben replied.

  Hilary looked at me, his eyebrows raised in question. I had heard of this phenomenon before. The newly single suddenly have a new lease of life and want to get out and party because they have not done so for so long. It takes them a while to realise they are no longer twenty-two and that they are genuinely happier at home reading a book and tending their geraniums.

  ‘Sorry, old boy. I have cases to work on, a date of my own to plan and no desire to be out chasing girls.’

  ‘Just me then.’ He announced as he drained the last of his pint. ‘Can I get a lift back into town?’ he asked Big Ben.

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘And direction to where the easy girls hang out.’

  ‘Yup.’

  I felt the need to interject. ‘Hilary, wouldn’t you rather spend the evening at home with your wife and children? I am sure Anthea misses you and is just too proud to say so. Maybe you should talk to her?’ My stern advice this morning hadn’t worked clearly. I was working my way down the list of available tactics and was starting to worry I would need to act myself at this rate.

  Hilary was not to be budged though. Somehow, in all this, he had found some drive and determination. ‘Not a chance. I am armed with fortitude and a hearty bag of chat-up lines provided by my good friend Ben. I am going into town to give a lady exactly what she deserves.’

  Dear God.

  ‘Ready?’ he asked Big Ben. Hilary was already out of his chair, poised like a sprinter getting into starting blocks. Big Ben looked at me, his pint half way to his lips. He shrugged, finished his drink and he too stood up.

  ‘Don’t wait up.’ Hilary called as he went out the door of the pub. I could hear someone moving around in the depths of the pub now, most likely it was the Landlord on his way back to tend to his customers that were now leaving. There was no one else in the pub and I had no need of a drink, so I followed the chaps outside. They were heading back to my house. Rather than follow and listen to any more nonsense, I pointed myself toward the village green where the dogs could have a good run.

  The sky was darkening, it was close to 1600hrs and a time of year when the evenings set in early. I had my house to myself for the evening, a fact I was thankful for, but I thought it likely Hilary’s plan for the evening would end badly.

  Conversation with the Client. Tuesday, November 8th 1807hrs

  Dinner was grilled chicken thighs, lentils from a tin, spinach and pine nuts. It was healthy, muscle-fuelling food and I was going to get in a workout before bed, so I felt justified in the large portion I gave myself. The dogs licked the plate clean before it went into the dishwasher along with my cutlery and the two dishes I had used to prepare the meal.

  Finding Victoria's workplace was on my list of tasks for tonight. Without her willingness to concede that her verdict of accidental death might be wrong it would be very hard to get a court case started for murder. I intended to politely confront her at her place of work. She had cornered me, so maybe I could turn the tables on her. She seemed to want to have me near her, so I would try to use that to my advantage.

  I wondered if I was clever enough to pull that off.

  First though, I needed to call the client. I had promised Mick semi-regular updates and had not provided them. I stroked Bull's fur as the phone rang.

  ‘Hello.’ I recognised my client’s voice.

  ‘Mr. Cotton, this is Tempest Michaels of the Blue Moon Investigation Agency.' The formal and full introduction was almost certainly not necessary, but it felt right to remain professional. "Hey, Mick, Whassssuppp?" wasn't really my style.

  ‘Tempest. I was hoping to hear from you. Do you have news for me?’

  It was a good question. ‘I can report that I think your stepmother is guilty.' I heard his breathing pause. ‘I have no proof of anything at this time.' I said quickly before he got too excited and stopped listening. ‘I have tracked your stepmother and her friends and have colleagues investigating various elements of their lives.' This was completely true. Thanks to Big Ben, I could reliably tell my client how each of the ladies sounded when reaching orgasm. I figured that bit of detail could be withheld in my report though. ‘I have met with the coroner that recorded the incorrect verdict of death and will be meeting with her again soon.' Hopefully with less erection involved next time. ‘This is, I'm afraid, little more than a courtesy call. I have little to report at this time.'

  ‘That’s okay. It’s just nice to hear that I am not crazy and making it all up in my head. You really think my dad was murdered?’

  I gave myself a few seconds to consider my answer. ‘I really do.' I really did. ‘I have to admit though that I have no idea how they have done it. Getting the result you want will not be an easy task.' I realised I sounded like I was pumping him for more money and had to back pedal quickly. ‘I'm not after more money. I just want to be clear that to secure a conviction I will have to provide unequivocal proof and I think that is going to be tough.'

  ‘Why is that?’ he asked.

  ‘Because they will not open a murder investigation when the coroner has recorded accidental death unless my case is watertight. To create a watertight case, I may need to catch them doing the same thing again.' As I said the words I acknowledged to myself that they were probably true. I hadn't thought the problem all the way through until that moment. Now I wondered how I would do that.

  I could hear Mick making hmming noises at the other end of the line. he was probably considering what I had told him. 'I guess all I can do is wish you good luck then.'

  I thanked him, put the phone down and relaxed back into the comfort of the sofa. I had wandered through from the kitchen to the living room while I was talking to my client. The dogs had follo
wed me and assumed their usual positions either side of me. I was deep in thought about the case, still trying to work out what I was facing.

  I am not sure how much time went by with me sat like that, churning the case in my head, but when Bull sneezed to break my concentration it was 1946hrs according to the clock. I sat up, causing the two dogs to jump down to the carpet. They were probably expecting a walk, so I obliged while I continued to think.

  Ten minutes into our peaceful meander around the village, I forced myself to change the topic and think about something else. I was getting nowhere, and it was frustrating me. Instead, I considered the task of the Best Man's speech I needed to write. I had a few weeks but to get it right I needed to perform some research into the victim/groom.

  Jagjit and I had been friends for a very long time, more than three decades in fact. However, I had been absent for a large chunk of it pursuing a military career and anecdotes from when we were seven would not fill a speech. He had brothers that I would have to speak with to recruit their help. Not that my intention for the speech was to embarrass him, I merely wanted to find the best material so that I could throw in one or two amusing stories.

  As we neared the pub, both dogs tried to pull me towards it. I tugged them back to the correct path, arriving home less than two minutes later. Untethered, they scampered away for a drink of water as I took myself upstairs to get changed. I had successfully avoided the lure of the pub, so I was going to compliment my fortitude with a workout. This one I would perform at home in front of the TV using my own body weight as resistance – do enough press ups, burpees, and sit-ups and you will burn a truck-load of calories. They would also ensure my goal of getting back to trim would remain on track.

  Bedtime came soon enough. Hilary was still out or had perhaps come to his senses and gone home to his wife. I had no messages from him and dismissed the idea of messaging him to find out what he was up to. I felt it was right to let him work this out for himself. The noise of his return woke me though. The clock claimed the time to be 2257hrs – early to be home after a night on the town and unlikely that he had found the available woman he left the house in search of.