by steve higgs
The chair was uncomfortable, one of the mass-produced polypropylene ones in a dull shade of blue. ‘Anyone got any injuries worth sharing?' asked Jagjit who was inspecting the knuckles of his right hand. They were a little swollen and the skin was split in several places. The blood had dried some time ago and was flaking off as he poked and rubbed.
‘Is that broken?’ I asked him.
‘Nah, probably not. Don’t even remember doing it.’
‘Just the usual bruises, Tempest,’ answered Big Ben. ‘How about you, Poison?’
Poison was sitting next to Frank, against the wall opposite the door idly poking at a hole in her leggings. ‘A few bruises, I think. Nothing much. I have a fat lip where some turd punched me. What were they doing there anyway? Trying to kill a whole bunch of people just for dressing up as vampires?’
The question appeared to be addressed to me although I knew as much as anyone else at this point. ‘Vermont Wensdale was there. He wants to catch the Vampire, so my guess is this was all to do with that. Vermont bloody Wensdale.’ I huffed.
‘The dick,’ added Big Ben helpfully.
‘The famous Vampire Hunter,’ countered Frank still in full belief mode.
‘Well, I reckon they did some research and found out about The Brotherhood of the Dead and where they would be. Much the same as I did really with Frank's help. They then went there on mass and tried to get them to talk. My guess would be the vampires locked themselves inside their clubhouse and some moron decided it would be a good idea to burn them out, thinking they could force some answers from them. Something like that.'
Just then the door unlocked, and Chief Inspector Quinn stepped in followed by PC Amanda Harper. She closed the door and he looked around the room briefly as if checking out each of us.
Big Ben elected to start things off in his usual style, ‘Ah, Chief Inspector Quinn, good evening to you. How's your wife and my kids?'
Chief Inspectors Quinn's eyes popped out a bit at the insult. I found Big Ben funny generally, he was just so brash and ready to be abusive to people that probably deserved it. This was not the right time though.
Chief Inspector Quinn just ignored him. ‘You are free to go once we take statements from each of you.' He paused and turned his attention to Big Ben and me. ‘This is the second time this week that you have been arrested. If there is a third time, I will find something to charge you with regardless of how innocent you might think you are.'
‘That's a load of rubbish,' said Poison. Clearly, Poison had thoughts on the matter which differed to the Chief Inspector's. ‘Were it not Tempest and the rest of us you would be dealing with a barn full of people burnt to death and not a few cuts and bruises. Do the vampire-wannabes even know that we saved them?'
‘Your intervention has been reported to their leader. He was convinced you were leading the mob and wanted you dead.’ Amanda piped up but was cut off from saying anything further by Chief Inspector Quinn holding his hand up in front of her face.
‘Saved them?’ repeated the Chief Inspector with a mocking tone. ‘Surely you don’t believe that? The police saved them, you merely added to the confusion and panic. You are only being released because I don’t have the room to hold you and because thus far none of the injured persons has claimed their injuries were caused by any of you.’
‘Who were they?’ Frank asked
‘It is of no concern to you. I suggest all of you ensure I don’t see you again any time soon.' and with that, he left, but not before shooting Amanda a hateful gaze.
‘That was pleasant,’ I said getting up. ‘Can we go now?
‘Once I have your statements.’
‘Okay.' Then I had a thought. ‘Have they released Jim Butterworth yet?
‘No. I'm not on this case, but I do know he is still being held and charged with the death of Mrs. Hancock.'
I gave her an incredulous look just as Big Ben spoke, ‘Are they nuts? Two more people have been killed since then.'
Amanda looked across at Big Ben and then back at me. ‘I think they know he is not guilty of the latest murders, but as he has confessed to the first two, he is not getting out any time soon.'
I suppose that made sense. I wondered why he had confessed if he was not guilty.
‘Shall we start with you?’ Amanda asked Poison.
Mum and Dad. Monday, September 27th 2015hrs
Just about when I was being arrested at the vampire clubhouse my parents were pulling up outside my house to walk the dogs. They didn't know I was being arrested of course, only that I was out working for the evening and could not guarantee a return time.
Mum was driving. She bumped the driver side wheels just onto the pavement to leave a little more passing space in the road and killed the engine. She waited as always for my dad to get out and around the car to open her door for her.
‘Thank you, Michael,’ she took his offered hand.
‘You are very welcome, Mary.’ He helped her up and then transferred her hand to the crook of his arm, so they could walk arm in arm to my door. They were a very cute couple.
‘We are coming, little dogs,' mum called out as they reached the gate. It was a redundant statement, but I often did the same myself. She fished in her handbag for the keys and pulled them from whichever corner they had hidden in after a few seconds of rooting.
My dad stood inspecting a shrub momentarily while his wife opened the door and the two dogs whizzed out between her legs before it was even half open.
Their tails wagging furiously, the pair nuzzled one then the other friendly human and then reverted to the one they were not currently with and constantly changed human for almost a minute, until a smell under a bush attracted them and they shot off to investigate that. The gate was shut so they were safe in the front yard area and were left exploring as mum then dad went inside.
‘Come on in fellas. Come on. Bull, Dozer. Come on,’ called my dad while mum filled the kettle.
Probably curious about the chance for a biscuit, first one then the other popped back out from under the bushes and hopped into the house allowing my dad to shut the door.
Thirty minutes later the teas were drunk, and the cups were in the sink. The dogs had excitedly crunched a gravy bone, run around the garden, performed various garden duties such as bark at birds and were now back in their bed. The only sign of their existence, a single tail tip poking out from one edge of the blanket. My mother was putting her knitting back into her bag when the doorbell chimed.
Mum hooked her knitting bag onto her right arm while fishing for her keys with the left. ‘It’ll be someone selling something I expect. What a time to be out bothering people. Are you ready, Michael?’ she asked on her way to answer the door.
My dad slid off his stool in a theatrical move of getting up. It was either unnoticed or ignored by his loving wife. He patted his pockets to make sure everything was in place and began moving to leave.
She opened the door intending to step straight out of it so that whoever was outside would have to step away. This would give her space, so she could lock up and the caller could be politely shooed away. Instead, though she stopped dead on the doorstep still inside the house.
‘You are the kin of Tempest Michaels?’
‘Ur?’ replied mum. In front of her stood the tallest, broadest man she had ever seen. It was dark out now, the automatic light at the front of the house throwing his features into sharp relief, but the word she would use to describe his face later was emotionless. He wore a suit of midnight blue with a tie to match and a white shirt. The suit looked expensive. He had an accent, something European that she was not able to place immediately.
My dad joined his wife at the door. Slightly concerned, he elected to lead with, ‘Good evening. How may we help you?'
‘You are the kin of Tempest Michaels,’ a statement this time. ‘I can smell the truth of it. I am Ambrogio Silvano, you must die.’ Then he stood there, not attacking, not attempting to get into the house.
My
mum was just staring at him, head slightly to one side as if waiting for the punchline at the end of a joke she had not understood from the start. ‘I’m not sure what you mean. Can you explain yourself a little better?’ she asked, ignoring the bit where she was supposed to die now.
‘The farmer does not explain himself to the sheep. Step outside so that I may devour you,’ instructed Ambrogio while still not moving.
Then my dad got the farmer and sheep comment. ‘I say chap. I don’t know what your game is, but you will apologise to the lady right now.’
‘Tempest Michaels had wantonly challenged me. I don’t accept insults from mortals. I have promised him that he would see his bloodline die before I killed him, would you make a liar of me? Step outside this dwelling so that I may feast on your life force. Don’t fear. It will be quite the sweetest death you could imagine.’
At this he moved for the first time, slowly bringing up his right arm that until now had been held loosely at this side. He beckoned to Mary; it was an unthreatening gesture that suggested compliance was expected. He took a half step forward and reached out to her.
She began to move forward, and as her hand went beyond the door frame and outside the house, the man moved to take it. The expression on his face was peaceful as if all of this was routine and pleasing.
‘Mary?’ queried my dad, wondering what she was doing. He was stood right next to her, his clothing brushing hers, but she was moving away from him as she moved to leave the house.
The man outside reached to take her hand so he could draw her gently from the house. As he did so, my dad began to react, wanting to grab his wife and draw her back inside where the illusion of safety promised a better position than being outside. Before he could get to her though, she swung her bag and smacked Ambrogio upside his head accompanied by a roar of, ‘Take that. You smarmy twat!' His head jerked slightly to the side as the bag connected, but he reacted fast and the arm that had been reaching for her hand now snapped out and grabbed her around the wrist.
A handbag swung by an old lady was never going to have any real effect. However, as the bag fell away it revealed a knitting needle poking from the side of his skull with a ball of yarn hanging from it. Mum liked to knit clothes for orphaned children and donated her products to the local church, she took the knitting kit everywhere and now it was impaled in Ambrogio's head.
My dad grabbed his wife around the waist and tried to get to her wrist as Ambrogio pulled them both outside with no visible effort at all. At the same instant though, the two dogs burst from between their feet and attacked his legs, each biting an ankle.
In the momentary distraction, his grip on Mary's arm loosened and both my parents tumbled back into the house under their own weight, propelled backward by their efforts to escape his grasp.
‘Dogs. In!’ commanded my dad from the floor. The pair disengaged simultaneously and bounced excitedly back over the door frame.
Ambrogio had been bent to swipe at the dogs but straightened back to his full height now. He brushed a few creases from his suit once more completely calm and in control.
‘Invite me in, woman,’ he commanded in his soothing, even voice.
‘You can get stuffed.' she countered, still lying on the floor, propped up on her elbows. Ambrogio then noticed that her eyes were not making contact with his, instead, they were focused a few inches higher and to the right. He looked up with his eyes like someone searching for an answer then reached to feel his head with one hand. He found the knitting needle, plucked it from his skull and tossed it to the floor.
‘Thank you,’ she said as the ball of wool and needles came to rest on the yard paving.
At this, my dad shoved her roughly to one side, slammed the door shut with his feet and reached over to lock it. The bolt clicked home, but he snagged a dining chair and wedged it under the handle for good measure. As he did so, she slumped against the floor, the adrenalin fading and leaving her spent.
‘Oh my, that was strange and unpleasant. Would you put the kettle on please, Michael? I rather fancy a cup of tea?' Mum asked from her prone position. Bull, who had been standing in the kitchen doorway wagging his tail next to his brother in anticipation of another treat, now crossed the short distance to her head and began licking her nose.
The shadow outside the door was still there. As they watched it turned, paused as if making a decision and then moved away towards the gate. My dad jumped up and dashed to the dining room window where he could see the shadowed form, lit only by a distant lamppost exit the property and head towards the road.
He came back to the lobby and slumped against a wall smiling gleefully down at his wife.
‘What?’ she asked noticing his ridiculous smile.
‘You can get stuffed. Rosemary Elizabeth Michaels,’ he chuckled. ‘You do like to surprise me.'
She swiped at him, but he was out of reach, so he knelt and kissed her head. ‘I’ll make that cup of tea.’
Maidstone. Monday, September 27th 2137hrs
Finally, we were released from the police station without charge and as we collected our belongings, I noted that I had a dozen missed calls from my mother. Probably something to do with one of the dogs. The last call was over an hour ago, so I elected to call from the car, then remembered that I didn't have it with me and that the car I had travelled in was not with me either. I would deal with my friends and see them on their way and then call her. It was nearly 2200hrs, so she would not yet be in bed and was probably at home watching Midsomer Murders while downing her third brandy.
It was full dark outside, light coming only from the lights inside the police station which had a large glazed lobby. Beyond the glass were a few seats and what might be called a counter where I supposed persons went to make complaints, report lost items etcetera, anything that was not urgent enough to warrant dialling 999 perhaps.
Jagjit was still inside arguing about his car which had been left at the vampire clubhouse. He was demanding a lift back there by the police and they were smirking at him.
Big Ben had decided that it was the perfect time to stroll into Maidstone town centre and pick up girls. Of course, he meant girls plural. He had invited everyone but contentedly headed off by himself when we all made excuses.
‘I’m going to get a taxi back to the cars with Jagjit.’ Frank said as he came out of the station. ‘When he gives up arguing with them that is. I think they might arrest him again just to shut him up if he doesn’t give up soon.’ Frank turned to see if Jagjit was still at the counter arguing but at that moment he slammed his hand down onto the counter, said something that was probably not very polite and stormed toward the doors and us.
‘I am aggravated,' he stated, stomping down the steps to the pavement.
‘I will cover the taxi fare mate. It will go under expenses.' I didn't have anyone to bill this case to so it was coming out of my pocket, but it seemed likely that the taxi would cost a few quid and I didn't want my friends out of pocket because they helped me.
‘It’s getting late, we should go,’ said Frank. ‘Tempest, can you see Poison home?’
‘I hardly need an escort,' Poison pointed out. ‘But, since it's you…' she smiled at me and gave a wink that went straight to my groin, then she grabbed my hand and tugged to lead me away.
‘See you later, chaps,’ was all I could manage weakly as I departed, largely not under my own steam and wondering what was happening.
Around the corner and out of sight of the others Poison’s hand was still in mine. It felt tiny. She slowed the pace, glanced over both shoulders as if checking her surroundings and then without warning stopped and pushed me against the wall of the building we were passing.
Before I could question what she was doing, or resist, or anything else, she leaned forward and stuck her tongue in my mouth. It was not unpleasant.
I felt her tongue stud brush against my upper incisors and immediately wondered what that might feel like grazing against more sensitive skin elsewhere. Her body
was very pleasing against mine. Her legs were either side of my right thigh and I felt warmth there as she pressed her groin against me. My trousers began to react.
I broke the kiss off as my phone rang again. I had taken the time a while ago to assign different tones to different people, so the Jaws theme coming from my back pocket announced a call from my mother. The sudden thoughts of naked entwinement with Poison had made me forget the missed calls.
‘Mother?’ I had whipped the phone out with a somewhat apologetic expression at Poison. She gave me a lopsided and utterly cute, but demure look back then pulled out her own phone taking a step away from me.
‘Tempest, where have you been? I have been calling for hours,’ asked my mother in a demanding tone.
I felt instantly embarrassed as if I was a teenager admitting he had been caught shoplifting. I chastised myself for such foolishness and went with, ‘At the police station without my phone for most of the evening. I just left there.’
There was a pause at the other end. ‘You got arrested again, didn't you?' It was a statement not a question, although I could acknowledge that getting arrested was not all that unusual for me.
‘Well, yes,’ I started then heard my own defensive and slightly whiny tone. ‘Yes, mother. But released without charge because once again I had not actually committed a crime and had been rescuing people when a few things went a bit wrong.’ A better explanation could be given later. Mum was mostly worried about the ladies at the church hearing about my activities. She was already horrified that they believed I hunted monsters.
‘Never mind all that now, Tempest. Your Father and I met someone at your house tonight while we were letting the dogs out and... well… he sort of tried to kill us.’
I processed that at speed. I had only two questions ‘Are either of you hurt? Where are you now?’
‘You Father and I are both fine, a little shaken, but I believe the man left hours ago. We were going to go home, but your father insisted on giving me a stiff Brandy, then helped himself to your rum.' I could hear the disdain in her voice and that she had raised her voice slightly to ensure my dad heard her too. He would just smile to himself at that though and smack his lips at the excellent flavour. ‘It was all very strange,' she continued. ‘He said we had to die but then just stood there. He was outside, and we were inside, and he just stood there expecting us to come out so he could kill us or something.'
