Blue Moon Investigations series Boxed Set 2

by steve higgs

  I took the time to explain what I had been able to glean so far and what my next move was. Having CI Quinn on side for once was both refreshing and unsettling. I wasn’t sure I could trust him. I was certain that if I solved the case, revealed the ghosts, which were fast becoming nothing more than an aside, and presented the criminals to be arrested, Quinn would claim the victory for himself and his taskforce, reducing my involvement to a by-line somewhere.

  By 1000hrs, Quinn was ready to leave. ‘I am leaving Detective Sergeant Kushnir with you, Mr Michaels. He will report back to me, so that you do not have to.’

  It spoke volumes about CI Quinn that he had automatically assumed he was now in control of my investigation and was acting as if he was letting me off the hook of having to report to him. I managed to avoid reacting, although I made sure I did my best to crush his hand when I shook it goodbye.

  ‘There is a key point that neither of you know yet.’ I had their attention. ‘I am not going to the Dockyard tonight. I have a prior engagement.’ I didn’t elaborate. It was none of Quinn’s business.

  Quinn nodded, thinking. He turned to his subordinate, ‘Sergeant Kushnir, it falls to you to act alone it would seem.’

  ‘Probably better to not involve civilians anyway, sir.’ He replied. ‘I shall report my findings in the morning.’

  ‘Very good.’ Quinn turned his attention to me again. ‘Good day, Mr. Michaels.’

  When the door closed behind him, the only sound in the office was Jane’s fingers dancing across her keyboard.

  I watched out the window as CI Quinn walked along the High Street, nodding his head in acknowledgement at the people going by like a noble acknowledging serfs from his horse. As he vanished from sight in the crowd, I asked, ‘Do you have a car with you?’ Just to make sure Joseph wasn’t expecting a lift to the Dockyard.

  ‘I do. It is parked in the public car park with a ticket displayed.’

  It was more information than I needed. Detective Sergeant Kushnir came across as a boy scout. Not that this was necessarily a bad thing, he just seemed a little bit too shiny, like he only just left the academy. Perhaps he was a direct entry detective. I knew the Police did that, giving applicants with suitable qualifications or experience an entry point above the usual constable rank that other police officers started at. It had been one of the options open to me when I left the Army, but even though I could have applied to join as a Superintendent, it had not been attractive to swap one uniform for another. It occurred to me now though that I would have an entirely different relationship with CI Quinn if I had taken that route – I would have been his superior.

  Cheered by that thought, I turned away from the window. It was time to get on with the day. ‘I have some admin tasks to take care of. When did you last visit the Royal Dockyard?’

  ‘Not for some years.’ He admitted. ‘And then it was a school trip and we mostly skived off to smoke cigarettes and drink lager that Billy Scraggs had smuggled in his school bag.’

  It sounded like every school trip since the dawn of time.

  ‘Best you get there and familiarise yourself with the land. Memorise the layout. The Ukrainians running the place are unfriendly, my colleague and I were assaulted last night in a bid to scare us off. They don’t want English there, or, more accurately, they don’t want anyone that is not Ukrainian and on their payroll.’

  ‘You were assaulted? Surely you can identify your assailants and we can arrest them right now?’ He had taken a step toward me in his instant excitement.

  ‘Bigger picture, old boy. There is something far more heinous than a little roughing up going on. If you want to deliver the Chief Inspector a crime syndicate, we have to catch the big fish that runs the pond. Not his little minnows.’

  I could see his cogs turning before he nodded his agreement. ‘What do you think I should do?’

  His question told me how new to police work he must be. I could have been condescending or even steered him onto a ridiculous path that would have embarrassed him. Big Ben would have. However, it was not my nature to take advantage of people. ‘Go to the Dockyard, buy a ticket and act like a visitor. Look around. Watch the security but don’t look like you are watching them. Somewhere in the Dockyard there is a way into the underground tunnels. We don’t know what is down there, but I think they killed Julia Jones to protect it. Go there, fit in and observe. I’ll be along shortly.’

  I took him through to my office where I had the map of the dockyard on one wall. On it I pointed out the rigging room, the Admiral’s office and the museum and using a handy pencil, drew a rough guide of where I thought the tunnels ran. We exchanged mobile numbers so we could communicate and rendezvous more easily later and he went back out the door he had come in more than an hour before.

  Left alone in my office, I called my sister.

  The Invitation. Wednesday, November 23rd 1042hrs

  ‘Hey, sis. How you doing today?’ I asked when her voice came on the line.

  ‘Um. Okay, maybe.’

  Her answer told me that she was trying to not tell me something while at the same time also telling me that there was something she didn’t want to tell.

  I flashed back another question, ‘What is it? Is dad okay?’

  ‘Oh, yeah. Yes, dad is fine so far as I know. So is mum.’ She was hesitating, unwilling to say what she wanted to say.

  ‘Rachel, just tell me what the issue is.’ I demanded.

  ‘Okay, dickhead.’ I guess she wasn’t happy with my forceful attitude. ‘I think the baby is coming.’

  I felt the earth tilt beneath me. What was I supposed to do now? I had not the slightest experience with babies. ‘Do you need me to do anything?’

  She actually laughed at me. ‘No, Tempest. I’ve got this. It will be many hours before I even need to go to hospital. I will take mum to see dad later. You can just get on with what you are doing.’

  ‘If you are sure.’

  ‘This is my third, Tempest. It’s really no big deal.’ She sounded relaxed and confident. I wished her luck and ended the call. There was a baby coming. I had never seen a newborn other than on television. When Rachael had given birth to the previous two, I had been out of the country, seeing them for the first time only once they were several months old. The concept of a newborn was a little terrifying. What if they expected me to hold it?

  I distracted myself by going to speak with Jane. ‘Have we had many enquiries this week?’ I asked. I had barely been involved in the business this week. Since mum’s phone call on Sunday evening, everything else had gone on hold.

  ‘Quite a few, but no more than the usual amount. Mostly nutters, but there were some with merit amongst them.’ We got a lot of emails and phone calls from people who had felt a cold draft in their house and instantly assumed it was a recently dead relative coming to haunt them or give them a message. Also, people got confused, or rather chose to confuse themselves about the service we offered so there were weekly requests for exorcisms, magical banishments, palm reading or prediction of the future, which were almost always about relationships and will this boy cheat on me, and we got a lot of enquiries on whether we did kids parties. Even once Jane had filtered out the ridiculous, the remaining enquiries were still filled with nutters claiming their father’s new girlfriend is a ghoul or their new neighbour had created a pet cemetery and was going to bring their cat back from the dead. For every one-hundred enquiries we received there would be one or two that had genuine merit.

  Jane had to find them.

  ‘Is there something I need to attend to?’ I was going to remain focused on the Dockyard case, but I didn’t want to lose clients through lack of communication.

  ‘No. Amanda has been dealing with it all. She has four cases she is pursuing concurrently.’

  ‘Jolly good.’ There seemed to be nothing that I needed to do. As I was about to consider my next move, my phone pinged in my pocket.

  I took it out to read the new message. It was from Natasha which sho
uld have generated a zing of anticipation, but what I felt was dread because I knew I had been ignoring her.

  Hi Tempest. Is your dad any better? I just wanted to message and check on things as I have not heard from you in a few days. If you feel like taking your mind off things, I think I know something we can do…

  The message ended with a winking emoji. I was a bad person. It would be the easiest thing in the world for me to go to her and indulge in some harmless, consensual adult activity. It was what she wanted. I couldn’t do it though, because I knew there was no future for us. I wondered how to respond, tried to frame a reply but deleted it. Tried again, deleted that one as well and stuffed my phone back into my pocket to deal with later.

  Not for the first time, I wondered how I made relationships so complicated. Standing next to the wall, I let my head droop forward until it touched it, then knocked it twice against the plasterboard. I needed to stick to doing what I was good at and just leave women alone.

  ‘Everything alright, boss?’ Asked Jane. I had forgotten she was there while I knocked some sense into myself.

  ‘Girls.’ I replied, one word telling her all she needed to know.

  ‘Tell me about it.’ She agreed incongruously with her deep voice and Adam’s apple.

  There was nothing else to say, so I grabbed my bag and car keys, let Jane know I was heading back to the Dockyard and got going.

  Jane stopped me before I got to the door. ‘Boss, I almost forgot. You have a letter here.’

  ‘A real one? Not a bill?’

  ‘No, it’s got gold embossed lettering. It looks fancy.’ She was holding it up and it did indeed look fancy.

  I took it from her and used a pencil to slit the top of the envelope open. Inside was an invitation.

  Dear Blue Moon Investigations,

  I request the honour of your attendance at an event in honour of my 80th birthday at Hale House on the weekend of December 10th and 11th. The invitation extends to all employees of the Blue Moon Investigations firm and their partners.

  For three hundred years, every second generation has lost the heir to the family in mysterious circumstances. The creature known as the horror of Hale House has claimed the life of the elderly heir on his 80th birthday.

  The last Lord Hale, my father, died peacefully in his bed aged ninety-three. So, you see, the visit may be quite eventful. In addition to providing you with full access to all areas of Hale House, which includes a full spa and gymnasium, swimming pool, room service and personal butler in each suite, I will pay your firm the sum of £25,000.00 for attending, providing you stay the entire weekend and ensure that I survive until my birthday has passed.

  I look forward to receiving, by return, your confirmation that you will attend.

  Yours

  Lord Hale

  I blew out my cheeks when I read the number he had written. The firm wasn’t hurting for money, not by a long shot, but this was something else.

  Seeing my face, Jane asked, ‘What is it?’

  I was rereading the handwritten letter for the third time but stopped to meet her eyes. I handed it to her. ‘Read it for yourself.’

  I stayed quiet while she did, my mind whirling, watching her face to see the changes in expression as her eyes reached different points. Her eyes damned near popped out and I knew she had just seen the number.

  ‘Is this for real?’ She asked as she handed the letter back to me.

  I pursed my lips and twitched my nose, something I have been told I do when I am thinking. ‘I think it is.’ I answered slowly. ‘I need you to do some research. Are you doing anything for Amanda?’

  ‘Not really. A couple of bits, but nothing pressing.’

  ‘Then drop everything and pull together everything you can find about Lord Hale and the Hale family tree, the creature he mentions and anything else you can think of. See if you can find out what his financial position is.’ I didn’t want to get too excited about the potential windfall if the whole thing was a bluff or a ruse.

  ‘Will you go?’ She asked as she started typing.

  I didn’t want to commit to anything until I knew more, so I said, ‘Maybe.’ Waved goodbye and went out the door.

  It had brightened outside, the clouds lifting to reveal cold blue sky that promised more frost tonight. Traffic was light through Rochester and Chatham to the Dockyard, although as I passed the Pentagon shopping centre, it picked up and there was some bumper to bumper action where early Christmas shoppers were beginning to converge.

  Alex Jordan. Wednesday, November 23rd 1101hrs

  The Dockyard itself was busy. Eight coachloads of children from different schools had descended on it. Educational trips no doubt a constant source of income throughout the year. With the dogs on their leads, I bought a ticket for the third day in a row but noted that the two ladies that had served me previously were no longer there. It could just be that they had the day off, but the lady with the heavy Eastern European accent now fumbling to work the till had never worked this job before if I was any judge. I had to wait while she conferred with a colleague in Ukrainian. Finally, she found the right button to press and my ticket was dispensed.

  The Ukrainians were taking over every position as the old Navy boys had predicted. Were they next? I went to find them.

  Sergeant Joseph Kushnir was here somewhere. I was in no hurry to find him though, if I didn’t spot him in the next hour, I would call him. As I made my way to the dry docks where I would find Alan and the others, I called Big Ben.

  ‘Hey, dung trumpet, what’re you up to?’ He asked as the call connected.

  I replied with, ‘Good morning, Ben.’ He had a new insult or name to call me every time we spoke. I had to wonder if he had a book he used to generate them. ‘I am at the Dockyard. Did you find a boat?’

  ‘I hired one.’ He replied. ‘There was no one around to borrow one from so I have a tiny little dingy. It’s fast though, or at least it feels it. I should be alongside the Dockyard in another half an hour.’

  I said, ‘Then I hope the entrance is easy to find.’ and pressed the red button to disconnect the call.

  I had arrived at the dry docks and already been spotted by Boy George. I was easy to pick out with my dogs pulling along in front of me and I stood three feet higher than eighty percent of the schoolchild visitors around me.

  I threw him a casual wave. He was sending a group of kids below deck on the destroyer, leaving him free.

  ‘Wotcha, Tempest.’ He called as he crossed the concrete. ‘Bad business with Julia Jones, I don’t mind saying.’

  I started to agree, wondering if they even suspected she had been murdered when I noticed that he wasn’t looking at me, but beyond me over my left shoulder.

  ‘Look out. Here comes the boss.’ He said. As I turned to see who he meant, I noticed that Alan and Fred were also approaching from wherever they had been performing their jobs.

  Boy George had been referring to Alex Jordan though. He was approaching from behind me, wearing an elegant suit and a long winter coat of a wool-blend. It looked like it might cost an average person’s annual wage.

  ‘Mr. Michaels.’ He extended his hand as he greeted me. ‘How is your father?’

  ‘No different.’ I answered. ‘Thank you for asking though. I am sure he will recover and be able to identify his assailant soon enough.’

  ‘Well, let’s hope so.’ If the death of his colleague, Julia Jones, was having any impact on his day, there was no sign of it. ‘What brings you here today?’

  His interest was suspicious. How had he known I was here? Was it chance? ‘Why do you ask, Alex?’ I decided to push my luck. ‘What are you hiding?’

  The question was inflammatory, designed to make him react. I expected an angry response, perhaps that it was a perfectly reasonable question to ask while avoiding giving an answer to my other question about what he might be hiding. Instead, I saw a flutter of panic in his eyes. Then he grabbed my arm, so he could whisper in my ear. ‘I’m in trou
ble.’

  He moved back to put a normal distance between us again. I checked behind me to see where Alan, George and the others were. They hadn’t heard what Alex had said and were waiting patiently for me to speak with them. ‘I’ll be back shortly.’ I said as I moved away, taking Alex’s elbow to guide him.

  Quietly I said, ‘I’m listening.’ He seemed nervous, skittish. His eyes were darting about. ‘If we are being watched it will be best to act and move normally, smile, gesticulate and speak at a volume that is only slightly lower than normal. There is plenty of ambient noise to drown out what we are saying.’ He swallowed, looking nervous and looked about again. I stopped walking. ‘Here will do. Face me and you can check one field of vision while I check the other.’ I was trying to calm him so he would talk and act naturally. He was drawing attention to himself with the scared rabbit act.

  Finally, he pulled himself together and spoke again. ‘I think Julia was murdered.’ He blurted. ‘I think she was murdered, and I think I might be next.’

  ‘Why?’ I asked. ‘Why was Julia murdered and why would you be next? Better yet, who is it that you think killed Julia? Just what is going on here?’ I had made several mistakes I realised as I stopped speaking. I should have stuck to one question at a time. Too late to take them back though.

  ‘It’s the Ukrainians.’ He hissed. ‘They invested some money two years ago when I wanted to expand some of our attractions. Everything costs so much and then there is upkeep and maintenance and cleaning and extra staff to show the tourists around. I think they even sabotaged some of the new attractions so I would need to borrow more money from them. Then, as old staff retired, or we needed to hire someone for a new position, it was always a Ukrainian that got the job. Before I even knew it, the security guards were all Ukrainian. When I took the money, they insisted I hired that ox Danylo Vakhno. He terrifies me.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me any of this on Monday?’

  ‘I think my office is bugged. And my house and car and phone. They have made it quite clear I am to keep the place running and not ask questions.’