by Sam Short
Chapter 7
With the warm onshore breeze blowing in their faces, and the moon accentuating the white tips of distant waves with silvery light, it was hard to believe that the bones of a demon lay in the sand a few hundred metres away.
Judith sipped her wine, and reached for an olive from the Mediterranean platter which Millie had served on the patio table. “Isn’t wine wonderful?” she said. “Earlier today, when Henry was warning us about people being possessed by demons, I must admit to having been quite nervous, but a few glasses of wine later, and all I want to do is put some music on and dance!” She glanced at Millie. “Where is the music?”
Millie laughed. “I did ask if you wanted music,” she said. “You said the sound of the waves crashing on the beach and the wind in the dunes was the perfect soundtrack for a glass of wine and some antipasto.”
“You did,” said Reuben, pecking at a slice of chorizo. “I can confirm it.”
“That was half a bottle of wine ago,” said Judith. “Now I’ve changed my mind. I want music.”
Millie stood up. “Then music you shall have,” she said. “I’ve got just the Spotify playlist for this sort of occasion. Lots of classic eighties and —” She paused as something caught her eye. Light in the sand dunes.
“What is it?” said Reuben. “What are you looking at?”
“I think I saw something,” said Millie, stepping through the open patio doors and into the kitchen. She switched off the light which bathed the patio in a bright yellow glow, and stared out over the sand dunes, searching the darkness. Then she saw it again — an unmistakable beam of dim torchlight. “There,” she said. “Somebody’s in the dunes with a flashlight!”
“At this time of night?” said Reuben. “It’s almost midnight. That’s not normal.”
“No,” said Millie. “Especially when the person is in the same area as the demon skeleton. We’d better go and look — we all heard what Henry said — that skeleton mustn’t be interfered with. We have to go and see who it is, and find out what they’re doing.”
Reuben tucked his head into his chest. “What if it’s the human who’s possessed by the other demon?” he said, “come back to find its partner? It’s not safe!”
“Henry said demons won’t harm paranormal people,” said Millie. “And that includes you, Reuben. Anyway, if the worst did happen — Judith and I will look after you.”
“Henry said a demon wouldn’t try and harm paranormal people unless it was threatened,” said Reuben. “Do you really think you two could help us if we’re attacked? If I’m attacked? I doubt it.”
Judith stood up quickly, her glass tipping and soaking her jeans with wine. “Oh yeah we can!” she said. “No demon’s gonna mess with our little Reuben! Let them try!”
“You two are drunk,” said Reuben. “Drunks think they can take on the world! Would you approach those sand dunes if you were sober? If you thought there was a demon in the body of a human out there in the dark?”
Millie smiled. “I think I would, but let’s not wait until we’re sober to find out. Come on — who’s coming with me?”
Millie led the way, with Reuben on her shoulder, and Judith following. As her eyes became accustomed to the moonlight, she followed one of the tracks she ran along each morning, heading in the direction she’d seen the light coming from. The direction in which lay the remains of a demon.
Reuben’s claws tightened on Millie’s shoulder as the group ventured deeper into the dunes, and they almost pierced her flesh as the frightened shout of a man echoed across the sand. “What the hell? What are you—”
The heavy thud following the man’s last word sent cold chills through Millie’s veins, and she turned quickly to look at Judith. “Did you hear that?” she said.
“I did,” said Reuben, a tremble in his voice. “It was the sound of violence!”
Judith grabbed Millie’s wrist. “I heard it, too,” she said. “That was the sound of something hitting a human head! It had to be!” She stared across the dunes, her moonlit eyes betraying her fear. “Hello!” she shouted. “Who’s there? What’s —” She spluttered as Millie placed a hand over her mouth. “Get off!” she mumbled against her friend’s palm.
“Keep quiet then,” whispered Millie. “We don’t know what’s going on! We don’t know who’s out there!”
“It’s the demon!” hissed Reuben. “We should turn tail and run. There’s no shame in retreat.”
“Somebody might need our help, Reuben,” said Millie. “The only way I’m running is in the direction the shout came from. You two go back to the cottage if you want. I’m going to see what’s out there.”
Judith took a deep breath and released her grip on Millie’s wrist. “No,” she said. “I’m no coward. I’m coming with you.”
Reuben gave a low squawk, his claws relaxing on Millie’s shoulder. “I’m coming too, I suppose,” he said. “But I’m not providing air-cover! I’m staying right here, on the shoulder of my witch.”
“Okay,” said Millie, staring into the night. “Let’s go, but keep quiet.”
Moving as quickly and carefully as possible, Millie led the way through the dunes, managing to stifle a scream as a large square shape loomed out of the darkness. “It’s the tent,” she whispered. “The one that ASSHAT put over the demon’s bones.”
“Are you going to look inside?” said Judith.
“Why?” said Millie. “Should I?”
“Why else would somebody be in this area at this time of night?” whispered Judith. “It must be something to do with the demon’s bones.”
“It’s too dark,” replied Millie. “I won’t be able to see anything, and anyway, the shout came from further on.”
Judith wiggled her fingers. “I’ve got something which might help,” she said.
“No,” said Millie. “You can’t cast an illumination spell — it can be dangerous to use magic after drinking too much alcohol.”
Judith shook her head, and reached into her pocket. “I meant my phone,” she said, fumbling with the screen until the built-in torch burst into life. “Here,” she said. “You have a look inside the tent. I’ll keep watch out here.”
“I’ll help Judith,” said Reuben, hopping from one witch’s shoulder to the other’s. “Four eyes are better than two.”
“Fine,” said Millie. “I’ll do it. Alone.” She paused for a few moments. Did she really want to look inside the tent? Obviously not, but she had to.
She took the phone from Judith and used it to illuminate the green tent’s closed doorway. Four Velcro strips held the two fabric flaps in place, and she winced as she pulled them apart, the angry ripping sound amplified by the quiet night air.
Slowly, she peeled the flaps apart, and peered inside, the phone held out in front of her. She quickly verified that the tent was empty, and with no hiding places available from which somebody might leap out, she stepped inside, and pointed the light at the hole in the sand.
She couldn’t stifle the screen which slipped from her mouth this time, but she managed to cut it short by placing a hand over her own mouth, and taking a deep breath.
The door behind her made a rustling sound as something pushed through it, and she ducked as Reuben flew in circles around the small interior of the tent. “Get off my witch!” he squawked. “Nobody hurts my witch! I’ll peck you to death!”
“Millie?” shouted Judith, pushing through the door behind Reuben. “Are you okay? You screamed!”
“Yes,” said Millie, regaining control of herself. “Everybody calm down. I had a fright, that’s all. When I saw the skeleton.” When she’d last seen the remains, most of them had been concealed by sand, but since the partial excavation, it was apparent that the creature in the sand had never been a dinosaur. Illuminated by the light from the phone, the permanently snarling skull had taken on an evil quality which made Millie shudder inside. “It looks scarier than in the photograph Mister Anon showed us,” she said.
Judith put a hand on
Millie’s. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. Henry said the demon’s bones could still contain energy. I know he said it’s okay as long as we don’t touch them, but I don’t like it in this tent.”
Millie nodded. “I think you should phone your father, Judith. That shout we heard was a shout of fear, and I dread to think what the thud was.” Knowing exactly what the thud had been, but hoping against hope that the sound like the crack of metal on flesh-covered bone may have been caused by something less sinister than the images which spiralled out of control in her mind, she passed the phone to Judith.
“Thanks,” said Judith, tapping at the screen as they exited the tent. She spoke in urgent tones when her father answered, and ended the call with a promise. “I give you my word, Dad,” she said. “We won’t put ourselves in any danger.” She looked at Millie. “He’s on his way. He told me we should wait for him to get here before we do anything else.”
“No way,” said Millie. “Somebody might be lying injured in the sand. Somebody might need our help. We can’t afford to wait.”
“My thoughts exactly,” said Judith. She switched the phone’s torch on once more, and moved the light left and right over the dunes in front of them. “Stay close to me,” she said. “I’ll lead the way.”
A group of tiny moths fluttered around the phone as Judith scoured the sand ahead with the dim light, and a ground-nesting bird startled Millie as it burst from a large patch of dune grass and gave a panicked cry.
Millie followed close behind as Judith ventured left at the base of a steeper dune, and stopped in her tracks as the beam of light glinted back at her, reflected by a familiar object lying in the sand. “Over there,” she said. “Look.”
Millie approached the object first, and Judith bathed it in light. “A metal detector?” she said.
“Yes,” said Millie. “And I recognise it. It’s Tom Temples’s.”
Reuben let out a low moan. “Then that man lying in the sand over there must be Tom Temples,” he said.
Following Reuben’s gaze, Millie gasped. “Quick,” she said. “Shine your light on him, Judith.”
Millie reached the man’s side first, and put both hands over her mouth as Judith gave a shriek, and Reuben fluttered to the sand. “Poor man,” said the cockatiel.
Kneeling beside Tom, Millie placed a trembling hand on the man’s throat, and using two fingers, felt for a pulse. The deep bloody gash which ran for inches across Tom’s scalp, and his lifeless staring eyes could have spoken for her, but Millie still felt the need to say the words. “He’s dead,” she whispered.
“And there’s the murder weapon,” said Judith, pointing a few feet to the right. “A shovel. It’s got blood on it.”
“I don’t want to sound insensitive,” said Reuben. “I liked the man, but I think we should be more troubled about the fact that his murderer may still be nearby, than the fact he’s dead — for the moment, anyway.”
Millie wiped a tear from beneath her eye. “Reuben is right,” she said. “Look at that gash in Tom’s head. The shovel penetrated his skull. He had no chance. He wouldn’t have felt a thing. No amount of first-aid is going to help him. We should get back to the cottage and wait for your father, Judith. There’s nothing we can do for Tom. There’s nothing anybody can do for him.”
Light peeked over the horizon by the time Sergeant Spencer had finished inspecting the area for clues, and Tom’s body had been transported to the morgue.
Henry Pinkerton sighed as he stared out over the sand dunes. “A terrible thing,” he said. “But that’s what happens when demons pass through the gate — people get hurt.”
“Killed,” corrected Millie.
“You think it had something to do with the demons which came through the gate?” said Judith.
“We can’t be sure about anything,” said Henry. “The fact that Tom was found dead next to his metal detector almost certainly verifies Millie’s speculation that Tom had sneaked back to the area under the cover of darkness, knowing it had been cordoned off, but desperate to find a few more gold coins. His empty pouch would suggest that he either found no gold, or was killed soon after arriving. Sergeant Spencer found his car parked half a mile away in the nature reserve car park, too far away for you to hear engine noise from your cottage.”
“And he sneaked into the dunes,” said Millie. “To look for gold, but finding only death.”
“He would have sneaked onto the dunes from the direction of the lighthouse,” said Henry, placing a gentle hand on Millie’s shoulder. “I don’t see any reason why anybody else should have been there with him. I can only speculate at this point that perhaps the second demon came back to this area, to search for its partner, unfortunately for Tom. It’s new inside its host, and probably can’t control its anger yet. It will learn with time, but if it did kill Tom, it would have required no motive other than the rage it experienced when it discovered Tom in the same area in which its partner had perished.”
“It could have been gold fever,” said Millie. “Maybe it wasn’t the demon.”
“Pardon?” said Henry.
“It’s what Tom called it,” said Millie. “The urge to find gold. There were other people interested in finding out where Tom had been discovering his gold coins. Perhaps somebody did find out, and perhaps it was that person who killed Tom. Maybe it had nothing to do with a demon. Maybe that’s why his pouch was empty — maybe his gold was stolen.”
“We’ll look at it from all angles,” said Sergeant Spencer. “While Henry attempts to track down the second demon, I’ll treat the murder as if it were committed by a human, with a human motive to kill. Either way, whether it was a demon or not — we’ll be looking for a human, it’s just that in one of those scenarios the human will have an unwanted guest within him or her.”
Henry nodded. “Treat the murder as you would any other. Focus on finding a human, whether possessed or not,” he said. “And now this area is a murder scene, Sergeant Spencer, which allows you to cordon it off further. You no longer need a plan to keep those alien hunters away from the skeleton. When they come back, you’ll have every right to keep them from approaching the demon’s remains. Hopefully, the bones will be dust by the time they’re allowed access to the site again, and then any photographic evidence they have will be worthless — they’ll be labelled as fakes, and Spellbinder Bay won’t become a town visited by conspiracy theorists from the world over.”
“Good point,” said Sergeant Spencer. “In fact, Mister Anon left me a business card. I’ll ring him and explain what’s happened. Maybe I can persuade ASSHAT to stay away altogether for a few days. It’s worth a try.” He glanced at the crimson horizon. “It’s dawn. I suggest we all have some strong coffee and some breakfast, and then we’ll get on with the task of finding out who, or what, murdered Tom Temples. I’m assuming you two girls will want to help me?” he said, looking at Millie and Judith.
Judith nodded. “Of course.”
“Try and stop me,” said Millie. “I liked Tom. I really want to find out what happened to him.”
Henry Pinkerton adjusted his cufflinks and gave a nod. “You have a plan, it seems. I shall bid you farewell. Please keep me updated on any progress you make, and I shall do likewise with any progress I make,” he said. “Be wary of everybody. Remember — a demon inside a human will appear from the outside as just another person, and with time will gain the ability to control its rage and mingle seamlessly with the rest of the human race. Some of history’s worst dictators were humans possessed by demons. We don’t want this demon to gain that level of notoriety. It must be found.”
Before anybody had time to answer, a whip crack echoed across the dunes, and Henry had vanished, leaving only the faint smell of ozone, and a sliver of white light hanging momentarily in the air, before that vanished, too.
Sergeant Spencer took a deep sniff of the crisp morning air. “I’m hungry,” he stated. “We should have breakfast before beginning a murder investigation.”
Cha
pter 8
Millie served a simple breakfast, greatly appreciated by Judith, Sergeant Spencer and Reuben — who pecked at a crispy strip of bacon fat discarded by Judith, making appreciative squawks and whistles as he ate.
Eating a bacon sandwich, Millie watched the father and daughter laughing together as they shared a meal. She hated envy, but she couldn’t shake the jealousy which wormed its way through her belly — not a malevolent jealously, but unwarranted all the same.
The fact that she’d never shared a breakfast with her father, didn’t give her the right to envy anybody else’s relationship. She helped herself to another slice of bacon and shook the idea of opening her mother’s letter from her mind, butterflies rising in her stomach. She wasn’t ready. Not Yet. Not ready to learn who her father was, and not ready for the potential hurt which might accompany his identity being revealed. She put a smile on her face. “Has everybody had enough to eat?” she asked, as she refilled coffee cups.
Sergeant Spencer patted his belly and gave a big smile. “I’m stuffed to the rafters,” he said. “You’re a fine cook.”
“Me too,” said Judith. “Thank you, Millie. Breakfast was delicious.”
Reuben looked up, his beak smeared with egg yolk. “Very nice,” he said.
“It’s weird watching you eating an egg, Reuben,” said Sergeant Spencer. “It doesn’t seem right.”
“I didn’t lay it,” said Reuben. “A hen did. What’s weird about it, anyway? I can’t even lay eggs. I’m a man-bird. It’s rude of you to make such comments.”
“I apologise,” said Sergeant Spencer. “It was just an observation.”
The bird nodded, and dipped his beak into the egg yolk on the plate in front of him. He gave a contented whistle, and moved his attention to a sausage.
