Dark Warlock: Arcane Inc. Book 3

by Sean Stone

  “What do you mean? Are there other cases?” I asked.

  “Oh yes. I did a search of the police records for other kidnappings that might be related. The name Panomie brought in a fair few results.” He pulled his notepad out of his inside pocket and flicked through until he found the right page. “Over the last twenty years six-hundred and thirty-seven girls have been taken across the south of England. All of them mentioned Panomie. None of them were ever seen again.”

  I stopped eating and sat back in awe and not the good kind of awe. “Why have I never heard of this case? Surely it should’ve been on the news?”

  “SIT,” he said simply. His appetite was not hampered in anyway and he shoved a jumbo sausage into his mouth. I know what you’re thinking. Stop being filthy.

  “What is that?” I said.

  “Supernatural Investigations Team. It’s a defunct police unit that used to operate from Cedarstone.”

  “I know all about Cedarstone,” I said grimly. Cedarstone was one of the most supernatural towns in England. I’d been there once and I had no intention of ever going back. It’s a dangerous place even for someone like me. The biggest baddest creatures live there, the sort of people that can kill you with a glance. I ruffled a few people up the wrong way last time I was in town and for that reason I’m not really safe there.

  “Anyway, SIT took the case and it was covered up by everyone else. Couldn’t really have supernatural stuff on the news.”

  “Hang on, hang on.” I had so many questions my head was starting to hurt. “There’s a supernatural investigations team?”

  “There was, it’s gone now. Very messy situation. It’s called the Black Forest or Black Wood Incident or something like that.” A chill passed over me.

  “Blackwood,” I clarified.

  “You know of it? I couldn’t find any information on what the incident actually was.

  “No. I know the name, though.” Blackwood was a very unpleasant warlock and almost certainly the most powerful one on the planet. I heard a rumour that he was dead but I don’t believe it on account of him being a full-blown immortal.

  “Right but there was a team for the supernatural which means that the police know about our existence?” I said.

  “No, no we don’t. Only very high people were aware of what the unit was doing. Most of us knew it as the Special Investigations Team. I only know the truth about it because someone high up sent me the files. And no I don’t know who.”

  “Oh,” I said. That made more sense. “So, who does know?”

  Richards scratched his head as he thought about it. “The Chief Constable of Cedarstone, MI5, the Home Office and probably the Prime Minister. I don’t really know. Is this relevant?”

  “No, I was just curious. So why did SIT take this case? From what you’ve told me it sounds weird but not supernatural.” As much as I wanted the work I didn’t want to take a job that I had no business doing.

  “Well that’s where it gets really interesting. In all six-hundred and thirty-seven cases do you know how many actual sightings of this Panomie there have been?”

  “Go on,” I prompted.

  “One. One man from Cedarstone claims to have seen the kidnapper.”

  “And what did he see?”

  “It’s best I let you hear it from him,” Richards said. He finished the last bite of bacon and placed his knife and fork down on his plate.

  “I am not going to Cedarstone,” I said firmly.

  “You don’t need to. The guy’s right here in Maidstone.”

  3

  “He’s in prison?” I said as Richards led me to the colossal stone structure. Maidstone Prison stood on the edge of the town centre, hidden from view by a huge stone wall. When I first moved to Maidstone I used to think it was quite a nice looking structure. Strangely finding out there were three-hundred prisoners on the other side of the wall changed my perspective.

  “Has been for the last seventeen years,” Richards replied. “What makes this case stand out from the others is the murder that came along with it. The girl’s mother was killed. Her head was bashed against a rock. At first the police thought it was an accident but then when the daughter went missing they changed their minds.”

  We went into the prison and Richards handed some paperwork to one of the guards behind the glass. “They charged him with murder. Initially it was only his wife’s murder due to a lack of a body for the child. Eventually they managed to get him for both though. He’s currently serving thirty years.”

  “I thought SIT had taken the case. Surely they know he didn’t do it if it’s a supernatural matter?” I asked.

  “The murder drew too much attention. Somebody had to be prosecuted and SIT couldn’t intervene.” Richards shrugged. “When things get political somebody has to take the fall.”

  “That’s despicable.”

  “That’s politics.”

  We were escorted through the prison to a private visiting room. Inside it was pretty much exactly how it looks on the TV. A small plainly decorated room with a table in the middle and three grey plastic chairs. The table was bolted to the floor. On one side of the table sat a thin man who looked like he was in his fifties. He looked up as we entered. His face was heavily creased and his dark eyes were vacant. His hear was a greying brown mess. He didn’t have any reason to tidy himself up.

  Richards took a seat opposite the man and I followed suit. The prisoner barely even acknowledged us.

  “Kevin, this is Eddie Lancaster, a consultant on the case I’m working on. Eddie, this is Kevin Smithers, the only man to have ever seen Mr Panomie.” Kevin shuddered when Richards said the name.

  “Hi,” I offered my hand for him to shake. He did not move and I slowly retracted my hand.

  “I already told you what happened. I told the judge what happened. The jury. The other police officers. The warden. The prisoners. My mother-in-law. I’ve told everyone. Nobody believes me,” he said. His voice was feeble and uncomfortable to hear. I couldn’t begin to imagine what he’d been through.

  “Kevin, I do believe you,” Richards said. “That’s why I’ve brought Eddie here. He can help you.” I wasn’t too happy about being offered up like that, not least because I didn’t know if I could help him. I wasn’t even sure what was actually going on yet.

  “It’s not me who needs help. It’s Tiffany,” he replied.

  “Your daughter?” I asked. He nodded.

  “After being here for seventeen years you’d think the beatings would stop. But the minute someone new finds out I’m here for killing my daughter…” He didn’t finish the sentence and he didn’t need to.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Kevin,” I said. “Why don’t you tell me what happened and I’ll tell you what I can do to help.”

  He let out a long loud sigh. “Why not? I’ve told the story a hundred times I don’t suppose once more will hurt. It started when Tiffany told me and my wife that she’d met a fellow at the bottom of the garden. Name was… Well you know his name. She said he’d asked her to marry him. Me and Sheila thought it was funny. We thought it was an imaginary friend. Then she showed us the ring.”

  “The ring?” I asked. I looked at Richards.

  “No rings were ever mentioned in any of the reports. I haven’t managed to get the SIT files though.”

  “There was a ring,” Kevin said defensively.

  “I believe you,” Richards said.

  “Good. She had an engagement ring. Said he’d given it to her. It was horrible. Made of tin or something twisted together ‘round a mud coloured stone. It fit her perfectly. That was the worst part. It was made for her.”

  I made a mental note to look into the ring. I had no doubt that it served some sort of magical purpose.

  “I took it off her. I kept a closer eye on her after that. Then one night… I can’t remember if it was before or after the ring… So long ago now. I walked past her bedroom and heard her talking. I thought she was playing but then I heard his voice. M
r…” Once again he stopped himself from saying the name.

  “What did it sound like?” I asked.

  “Old. Rough. Hideous.” He looked at me and I could see in his eyes that even after seventeen years the voice still scared him. “The next day, maybe the next week, we went to the park as a family. I wanted to forget about it. I should have gone to the police but even after the ring I still thought it was all in her head. Even after the voice. Once we were finished at the park I went to find Tiffany. She was playing by the river.” Tears formed in his eyes and he turned away from us.

  “Take as much time as you need, Kevin,” Richards said gently. I wasn’t used to a gentle Richards, he’d always been a pain in my arse.

  “He was there,” Kevin said in a whisper. “Across the river. He was…” Kevin closed his eyes and breathed deeply. “He was short. Three, maybe four foot. Old. His skin was dark like a dark tan, and so wrinkly. His eyes were tiny black slits and his… he had a really fat nose. His hair was brown, almost the same colour as his skin, just a fraction or two lighter. It went all ‘round his head. Stopped just past the ears. Bushy it was.” I was amazed at the level of detail he described.

  “Are you sure about all that? It has been a long time,” I said. I didn’t want to insult the man but it was likely he’d forgotten after seventeen years.

  “Eddie, I will never forget that thing. Not for as long as I live,” he said firmly. I nodded my understanding. “I picked Tiffany up… Sheila was there. She saw him. All he did was look at her and she fell into the river. Smashed her head on a rock.” He sniffed loudly and wiped at his nose with his sleeve. “That night, after I got back from the station. I locked up the whole house. Every door, every window. And I waited. I knew he’d be back. I knew he wanted Tiff. I fell asleep. When I woke up I ran straight up to Tiff’s room. She wasn’t there.” His voice grew vague and distant as if he’d learned to detach himself from possibly the worst part of the story. “The window was open. I looked out and saw him and Tiffany walking away hand in hand.” He looked down at the table and I assumed that that was where his story ended.

  I let the silence carry on for several minutes. I felt like his story needed it as a sign of respect. Without a doubt, his tale was the weirdest thing I had heard in my entire life. And I believed every weird word of it.

  I looked at Richards and nodded. “I’ll do it. I’ll take the case. I’ll find him”

  Kevin looked up. There were no tears on his face. His eyes were once again empty. “I know its too late for Tiffany. I lie to myself every day. I tell myself she needs saving. But I know that after all this time she is dead. Its too late for her but not the others. When you find Panomie, kill him.”

  I looked back at Kevin and saw the hatred. I felt the hatred he held for the little thing who’d stolen his daughter and killed his wife. I nodded. “Mr Panomie will die.”

  4

  Richards waited until we were outside the prison before speaking. I could see from the moment we left the interview room that he was unhappy about something.

  “Do you really expect me to act like I didn’t hear you promise to murder someone?” he said. He folded his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow at me. When I’d said that I’d forgotten I had a cop sitting next to me.

  “It’s not so much a someone as it is a something,” I replied cleverly. There was almost no chance that Mr Panomie was a human.

  “He has a name. He’s a someone.”

  “Well I’m fairly certain he’s not human which means he isn’t protected under any human rights acts or laws or anything like that. Bearing that in mind is it even classed as a murder?” I was on fire with the clever thinking.

  Richards stared off into the distance as he considered the matter. “No,” he said slowly, turning his eyes back to me. “But, we have laws that protect animals.”

  “His species wouldn’t be covered though would it?” I asked. “Listen, a couple of months ago I killed a wendigo that was eating people in Mote Park, how is this different?”

  “A wendigo?” Richards had never actually asked for the full story of what went on in Mote Park. The murders had stopped and he had someone to prosecute. That was all he seemed to care about. “You know what, let’s just go back to me remaining ignorant about the details. I take it you agree that this is a supernatural matter?”

  “Almost certainly,” I replied.

  “So, you’ll take the case?”

  “Yes. I charge thirty pounds an hour plus a standard payment for…” I tailed off when I saw him shaking his head at me. “What?”

  “I can pay you ten pounds an hour and no standard payment,” he countered.

  “Are we negotiating?” I asked coyly.

  “No. That’s my offer. Take it or leave it,” he said flatly.

  “I think I’ll leave it then.” If he thought he could bluff me then he was sorely mistaken. He’d obviously forgotten the fact that he needed my help. I didn’t need his. I could wait for another client. I turned and began walking away.

  “Wait!” he called after me and I turned back to him. ‘Tell me your fees,” he said resignedly.

  “As I said, thirty pounds for my hourly rate, sixty pounds for the consultation, and two-thousand pounds to kill Mr Panomie,” I said. I’d doubled my fee for killing, it only used to be one-thousand pounds but after the wendigo I realised I was worth more.

  “I’m never going to be able to get you that. Not with all the budget cuts. I’ll give you fifteen pounds an hour, and let’s forget the rest.”

  “Twenty-five and we’ll keep the rest.” He was deluded if he thought I was going to agree to that.

  “I cannot pay you to commit murder, Eddie. Not to mention the fact that I didn’t ask to do it.” He had a point there and I doubted Kevin would be able to get me two-thousand pounds. “I’ll pay you the hourly rate and that’s it,” he offered. His expression indicated that he would not negotiate any further.

  “Thirty?”

  “Thirty.”

  “Plus the consultancy fee.” Hey, if you don’t ask you don’t get.

  “Fine. I think I can swing that.”

  “Then we have a deal, Inspector,” I said and held out my hand.

  “It’s Detective Chief Inspector,” he reminded me, but shook my hand nonetheless. “What will you do first?”

  “I’ll need to read the records.”

  “I’ll bring them to you,” he said.

  “Thanks, but I meant the other records. The SIT ones.”

  He laughed. “They’re locked away tight. Restricted files. The hard copies are God-knows-where, and the digital ones are encrypted so securely I doubt the CIA could get them.”

  “I know a guy who can.” I gave Richards a cheeky wink and then strutted off proudly with a destination in mind.

  I went straight to Matt’s house. He does the computer stuff better than anyone one I know so if he couldn’t hack those files then nobody could. Nobody I know of anyway. You might be thinking that I could just use magic to access them but that’s not how it works. Magic and technology have an odd relationship and one I can’t really explain. I can make machines malfunction, turn them off, even wipe their data but doing things like unlocking encrypted files just can’t be done. I’ve tried it before on a police computer (you don’t need to know why) and the computer burst into flames. Another mystery of magic.

  It took Matt a long time to answer the door and when he finally did he was red faced and out of breath.

  “What have you been up to?’ I asked barging through to his living room. We were close enough now that that wasn’t considered rude.

  “I was half way through building the new shed which frankly you should be helping me with,” he said, shooting me a pointed look. I burned his former shed down with magical fire.

  “I know what you’re getting at but let me remind you I did that to save you from the aitvaras that was living in there,” I said loftily.

  “That was there because of you!” />
  “Woah! Woah! I did not tell Rachel to try to kill you to get to me,” I said defensively. I didn’t like the way people had been blaming me for the actions of my enemy. It wasn’t fair and frankly it was infuriating.

  “Fair point,” he said quietly. “Even still, you could help.”

  “I’ll tell you what, you do me a favour and I’ll do you one,” I proposed.

  “You already owe me two favours,” he said.

  “Yeah, that’s true. I’ll help build your shed okay? But I still need you to do something for me.” I said a little sullenly. I hate DIY. And no, I can’t just click my fingers and have a fully built shed. Again, that’s not how magic works. It’s not how mine works anyway.

  Matt agreed and took me upstairs to his new office. Despite having a much larger house he’d chosen the smaller of the three bedrooms for his computers which meant the room was overstuffed and very cramped. The only improvement from the last situation was that there was space for a chair in this room and he didn’t have to sit on the edge of his bed.

  “I need you to hack the Cedarstone police database and get me the SIT files,” I explained.

  “What’s SIT?” he asked.

  “Supernatural police unit,” I said.

  “I don’t wanna know what you’re up to, only ever gets me in trouble,” he grumbled and started hitting keys. I assumed it was a complicated job because he was at it for a lot longer than usual. Most times he got what I wanted in a few minutes, this time he was typing and clicking for at least fifteen.

  “Sweet Jesus…” he mumbled. “Eddie SIT isn’t a police unit it’s a defunct branch of MI5! I’ve had to hack the MI5 database!”

  “What?” Richards had not mentioned that.

  “According to this report MI5 took over the team. Not long before the…” he scrolled down and then pulled a puzzled face at the screen. “…Blackwood Incident. What’s that?”

  “I’m not sure but I doubt it was anything less than horrific,” I said. I really didn’t want to talk about Blackwood. He’s one of those guys where saying their name gives you that feeling. You know the one. Where if you say their name too many times they’ll appear and do horrible things to you. That sort of feeling.