by steve higgs
Paranormal Nonsense
Blue Moon Investigations
Book 1
Steve Higgs
Text Copyright © 2017 Steven J Higgs
Publisher: Steve Higgs
The right of Steve Higgs to be identified as author of the Work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved.
The book is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copywrite law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
‘Paranormal Nonsense’ is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living, dead or undead, events or locations is entirely coincidental.
Author note:
Dear Reader,
Thank you for downloading my debut novel. I have a further free short story for you with the same characters, concepts and locations and with all the thrills, action and humour that you will find in this book.
Get your free copy of “Zombie Granny” when you sign up to my VIP mailing list. Here is the link:
https://stevehiggsbooks.com/?s=success
Also by Steve Higgs:
The Phantom of Barker Mill: Blue Moon Investigations Book 2 - https://www.amazon.co.uk/Phantom-Barker-Mill-Blue-Investigations/dp/1521923280/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1520875225&sr=8-1&keywords=steve+higgs
Coming soon:
Can you Kick a Ghost in the Nuts? The Harper Files Case 1. A Blue Moon Novella
Evil Dickhead Klowns: Blue Moon Investigations Book 3
Table of Contents
The Wrong Route Home. Wednesday 22nd September 2217hrs
The Body of Victoria Turnbull. Thursday 23rd September 0500hrs
Rochester High Street. Thursday 23rd September 0830hrs
Poltergeist. Thursday 23rd September 0942hrs
Investigating the Vampire Murders. Thursday September 23rd 1237hrs
Cooper Estate Chatham. Thursday September 23rd 1552hrs
The Cranfield’s Poltergeist. Friday September 24th 0213hrs
Case solved. Friday September 24th 0245hrs
My House. Friday September 24th 0914hrs
Interviewing old ladies. Friday September 24th 1230hrs
Pub O’clock. Friday September 24th 1846hrs
Friday Night at the Pub. Friday September 24th 1937hrs
Call from Mrs Cambridge. Saturday September 25th 0730hrs
Outside the Cottage of Mrs Cambridge. Saturday September 25th 0825hrs
Inside the Cottage of Mrs Cambridge. Saturday September 25th 0832hrs
After Demedicus. Saturday September 25th 1257hrs
Mum and Dad. Saturday September 25th 1443hrs
Roast Dinner Ambush. Saturday September 25th 1500hrs
Late Night Cabbie. Sunday September 25th 0156hrs
Early Morning Surprise. Sunday September 26th 0817hrs
Crime Scene. Sunday September 26th 1000hrs
My House. Sunday September 26th 1215hrs
Movie Night at My House. 1926hrs Sunday 26th September
Bluebell Hill. Monday September 27th 0705hrs
Vampire killers. Monday September 27th 0936hrs
Mystery Men Bookshop. Monday September 27th 1124hrs
Mrs Sweeting Brand. Monday September 27th 1147hrs
Maidstone Hospital. Monday September 27th 1235hrs
Frank’s Theories. Monday September 27th 1315hrs
Investigating the Bluebell Big Foot. Monday September 27th 1432hrs
Hot Chocolate. Monday September 27th 1816hrs
Kent Vampire Nest (or is that Hive?). Monday September 27th 1930hrs
Death by Fire. Monday September 27th 1948hrs
Maidstone Police Station. Monday September 27th 2051hrs
Mum and Dad. Monday September 27th 2015hrs
Maidstone. Monday September 27th 2137hrs
My House. Monday September 27th 2151hrs
My House. Tuesday September 28th 0530hrs
Interview With a Vampire. Tuesday September 28th 0927hrs
Vampire Killer-Wannabes part 2. Tuesday September 28th 1122hrs
Where is Poison? Tuesday September 28th 1225hrs
The Horror of the Truth. Tuesday 28th September 1247hrs
My House. Tuesday September 28th 1342hrs
Chilwell Castle. Tuesday September 28th 1527hrs
Inside the Mausoleum. Tuesday September 28th 1607hrs
Outside the Mausoleum. Tuesday September 28th 1915hrs
Riverside Path. Tuesday September 28th 2001hrs
Solving the Blue Bell Big Foot Case. Wednesday 29th September 0347hrs
Lunch. Wednesday September 29th 1412hrs
Euphoria. Wednesday September 29th 1658hrs
Inside Mary’s House. Wednesday September 29th 1748hrs
Pub O’clock. Friday October 1st 1907hrs
The Wrong Route Home. Wednesday 22nd September 2217hrs
For Victoria, the evening had been a complete loss, although her friend Sarah would not have agreed. Sarah had badgered her to come out as a date for her new boyfriend’s best mate and like a fool she had acquiesced. Sarah’s boyfriend seemed nice enough when she met him last week, and Sarah was certainly into him, but the best friend was a bore who spent the evening bragging about his football skills and telling her all about himself.
He had shown no real interest in her, which was something she should probably be thankful for but was actually a little bit insulted by as she felt she was attractive enough to have at least warranted some flirting or cheap passes. Worse though he had not offered to pay for anything so the crap night out had cost her thirty pounds.
With her purse feeling deflated she was glad that they had ended up at the River Angel public house after their meal out as it was close enough to walk home from and thus saved her yet more cost for a taxi. Darren, her date for the night, had offered to see her to her door, the only chivalrous act all evening, but she had politely refused and was glad to be away from his boring conversation.
Pulling her coat tight against the cool air outside, Victoria paused just outside the door to take off her heels and slip on a pair of flat ballet pumps she kept in her bag. Instant relief washed through her and she wriggled her toes briefly while debating the best route home.
Home was little more than half a mile from the pub if she took the path that bordered the river. It would be dark and always gave her the creeps, but the alternate route went around onto the edge of the dual carriageway and through the houses. It would take at least twice as long, and she was tired, and her feet hurt and she had work in the morning so telling herself to be brave she set off towards the river.
It was cold next to the water at this time of year and dark, so her pace was quick, eager to get home. The tarmac path was not in the best state of repair plus the bank to her left was steep in places, so any heavy rainfall swept dirt down from the bank to wash over the path. It was rarely cleaned off by whomever was responsible for such things, so the path was a little squidgy with mud in a few places which she tried to pick her way around. Light coming from the moon and stars and from the lights of the city reflected back down from the few clouds still hanging around from this afternoons rainstorm made it possible for her to see where she was going.
Walking towards the canopy of trees whe
re the light currently illuminating her surroundings would be cut off, she thought to pull out her phone and utilise its torch function, but then decided she was actually quite ticked off with Sarah so was going to text her an angry message. She had been largely abandoned this evening so that Sarah could focus solely on her boyfriend and suck his face. Come to think of it his face might not have been the only thing getting sucked since she had disappeared with him for twenty minutes at one point.
Tippety-tapping on her phone Victoria felt that odd sensation that one gets when someone is looking at you. It caused her to look up whereupon she saw ahead of her a figure barring her path. Now under the canopy of trees, and night-sight shot from staring at the bright screen of her phone she could still determine that the figure was a man. It gave her a start, her legs seemingly coming to a halt without her instructing them to do so.
The man looked to be wearing a dark suit. The little bit of light that came between the trees was catching on the shine of his shoes and the white vee of the shirt between his lapels and either side of his dark tie. He was not moving, but there was nothing threatening about his stance and she could see both his hands, which were empty and hung loosely at this sides. She could not make out his face at all but from his shoulder to waist proportion could tell that he was muscular.
Feeling silly that she was now also just stood still on the path and becoming ever more aware of the cold air on her exposed skin she called out to him.
‘Hello?’ The man didn’t answer, nor did he give any indication that he had even heard her.
‘Hello?’ she tried again, this time suppressing the quavering uncertainty in her voice. Still no reply. Unnerved she told herself that she was being ridiculous, and it was probably nothing more than a chap out walking his dog late at night after either a hard day at work or perhaps an evening out. Maybe the dog was a cute little Pug she thought; she liked pugs. Chiding herself for her trepidation, she started forward again closing the gap between them. She was a strong independent woman who would pass this man by like she would if it were daylight and would think nothing of it.
The forced confidence didn’t last long though as her heartbeat increased its pace with every step in his direction. He continued to just stand unmoving in her path as if waiting for something to trigger his motion.
Her next thought was to wonder if this chap was actually alright but then finally he moved. He raised his head slowly and deliberately so that he was looking directly at her. In the darkness she had not realised that he had been looking down. Then he leaned forward just a little and his face was lit up by a shaft of light coming between the trees. He smiled at her.
There was nothing pleasant or engaging about the smile. The smile inferred bad things and when he opened his lips the smile contained far too many teeth and canines which were distinctly longer than they should be.
A heartbeat passed and then he moved, exploding into action towards her. Too shocked to scream, Victoria span away from him. Her feet slipped on the debris and mud of the path and she pitched forward, corrected the downward motion with a hand on the path and took off at a sprint back towards the pub.
Naturally athletic, Victoria was a sprinter through her school years and was running at speed after a few paces. Now that she was moving she felt a growing confidence that she could outpace the man. The pub would soon be in sight, a faint glow from the outside lights already visible past the trees fifty yards ahead. Her breath started to tug in her chest, but she pushed harder determined to get away from whatever menace the man intended.
The blow came as a surprise. She had no sense that he was even close to her, but it landed hard behind her right ear instantly knocking her off balance and stunning her at the same time. She stumbled, legs tangling as the sideways shunt ruined her forward motion.
As the floor became a painful eventuality that she could barely see Victoria put her hands out to arrest the impact. Out of control though, she hit first with her right hip and still spinning crashed over onto her back where her left shoulder bit painfully into the path, tearing her skin. Finally, the back of her head smacked into the tarmac to bring a taste of blood. Coming to rest in the nettles and litter at the side of the path she rolled to get her hands back under her, so she could get up. There was no sound apart from her own ragged breathing, so where was the attacker? Had he run off?
Victoria started to get up, but as she did saw that he was stood right by her feet. She made a little choking sound of fright. He was stood looking down at her, hands at his sides as they had been before. His suit looked unruffled. The moonlight was sufficient to show his face now, his expression quite calm and unthreatening as if he were about to ask the time.
Propping herself up slightly on her elbows, Victoria squirmed back a few feet to slide away from him. The exposed skin of her shoulders was rewarded with more stings from the nettles behind her though she barely registered it. She really needed to pee now and wished desperately she had taken the long route home.
‘What do you want?’ she asked.
He crouched down then. He did not touch her, but came as close as he could without doing so, then leaned forward so his face was mere inches from hers.
‘I want to drink your blood, little lamb.’ he said calmly, his voice a soothing baritone with a European accent. Then he hit her.
A massive hand grabbed her hair and twisted her head cruelly to the side, forcing her to turn with it. The hand continued to twist and pushed her face into the dirt. She scrambled with her legs, trying to find any purchase to fight him off but was no match for his strength or superior body weight. His knee went into the small of her back and she could no more move a building than get him off of her then.
She felt him move closer yet, bending right over her to nuzzle her neck like a lover might and then he bit down into the soft flesh of her neck.
She felt hot liquid on her skin and knew it was her blood. It began to pool under her chin and was getting into her hair. She wanted to fight back but all too soon she found that trying to do so seemed like a lot of effort.
He held her in place as her frantic struggling lessened. What was he doing now? Blearily, Victoria could see something silvery like a jug near to her face. The man was doing something with it but she was getting a headache from her pulse hammering in her head and the jug didn’t really seem that important. Her heart felt like it was banging in her chest and her eyes were getting heavy. Why are my eyes so heavy? She wondered briefly. It was her final thought as unconsciousness thankfully took her.
The man stood back watching her last breaths. In his left hand, he held a silver chalice. He checked his watch, moved the chalice so he was holding it with both hands and set off back down the path leaving Victoria where she lay.
The Body of Victoria Turnbull. Thursday 23rd September 0500hrs
PC Amanda Harper checked her watch, 0513hrs. It was neither light nor dark, that time of the morning when the first rays of sun have begun to pierce the gloom yet hadn’t really done anything to lighten the surroundings. She was stood on a narrow path that bordered the river Medway near to Maidstone. The path was tranquil, picturesque and thoroughly safe during the daylight hours, she had walked along it many times in the past, but in the dark, it was far less pleasant. Starkly, she found it was foreboding and anxiety inducing and was telling herself to man-up and stop imagining that the things rustling in the undergrowth were coming to get her. Her shift had started at 1800hrs last night, a Wednesday, and she should be finishing her shift in less than an hour. Experience had taught her that it was not going to go like that though. After seven years on the beat this was not her first murder scene and there was no way they were going to replace her this side of breakfast. If anything, they needed more people on the scene to manage human traffic, keep crowds back and assist SOCO to conduct their investigation. She would be swept up into the day of important tasks that needed doing fast.
She checked her watch again and shifted her feet a little. Trying not to look
like she was dancing she moved her arms about a bit to keep the stiffness out and the cold away. The warmth of August was long forgotten replaced by the coolness of autumn. Amanda was thankful that this September morning was dry. However, the early morning mist forming on the river was still damp and the cool air had penetrated her layers of uniform a good half hour ago.
Sgt Dave Barnet appeared out of the gloom a few yards away where he had undoubtedly been involved in something far more interesting than perimeter security. Dave fancied her, she knew that although he had never said anything and was quite polite and avoided flirting in general. She could tell though, when she caught him glancing away when she turned, when he smiled at her and gave one too many work-related compliments. She was attractive. She accepted that as one accepts that your hair is brown or your eyes are blue. She understood that genetics had given her an athletic figure, high cheekbones, flowing hair and a strong jaw line that could have led to modelling had she wanted to pursue a line of work that did not require her brain. It was not a career choice that had interested her, although right now the thought of a bikini shoot in the Bahamas for some new swim wear firm sounded like a vast improvement. Come to think of it, topless glamour modelling sounded good about now when compared to freezing her nipples off next to a river in the middle of the night, guarding a murder scene in Maidstone.
Dave looked over and caught her eye and began walking towards her. Emerging from the gloom his face was pretty grim.
‘What have we got?’ she asked.
‘Nasty and weird murder, that’s what.’ he answered. ‘Another bitten throat. Poor girl would have bled to death and it was clearly quite violent.’ Neither said anything for a moment while the river mist swirled about them.
‘Is it like the others? Same MO?’
