by steve higgs
Frank, of course, was dead serious.
‘Frank my friend, the police will be here soon, and they will be able to provide Ambrogio's real name once they have his fingerprints. There is probably a set of car keys in his front pocket and a wallet in his back pocket with bank cards, driving license and a loyalty card for Domino's pizza.'
‘Let’s find out shall we,’ said Amanda who had silently re-joined us. I stood up again and fished for Bull's lead in my back pocket.
‘Any sign?’ I asked, desperately hoping someone had found Dozer.
‘Nothing, Tempest,' her voice soft and caring. ‘There is a police boat coming down the river along with a SOCO team, so we can have a better look with the lights on the boat and there will be plenty of light on the bank soon and more people to help you look.' she paused for a moment and turned her gaze to the body.
‘I should see if there is anything to identify him.’
She knelt and patted obvious places on his body where a wallet might be. There was nothing to find though. He had no keys, no wallet. Not even a watch or ring adorned his body.
I didn’t need to turn around to know that Frank would be smiling to himself.
‘There’s the beast!’ rang a fresh voice far louder and more excited than the situation called for.
Vermont Wensdale leapt dramatically into the small clearing we were gathered in and skidded to a halt by Ambrogio’s head. Vermont was totally focused on the body. He was panting slightly as one might be after a short run and kneeling now to see the body more clearly. ‘Already slain I see. A stake through the heart no less.’ Flunky one and two appeared then just behind him. It was turning into a regular party there were so many of us now in the small space.
‘Step away from the body please.’ Amanda had produced her police ID. She had to lean over so that the card was in front of his eyes and could not be ignored.
Vermont stood up then. For a moment I thought he was going to comply, but he reached into his cape and produced a small sword instead. ‘Quick men, there is not a moment to lose. Mr. Michaels, I must congratulate you on bringing the beast down, I must say that I underestimated you. Nevertheless, you have done well to survive thus far.'
Arthur and Stefan had doffed small backpacks and were now spilling equipment out onto the path. They both flicked on head torches, red light I noted, to better see what they were doing without ruining night vision.
‘Your lack of experience in such matters shows I'm afraid, Mr. Michaels.'
‘How so?’ I was actually curious to hear what he had to say.
The beast is down, but with the stake removed he will soon recover. We must remove its head and burn the body.'
Big Ben had moved closer to Vermont, presumably to react if he did anything crazy; like actually try to cut the head from the body at his feet. ‘Man, I want to spend some time in your head. You could sell tickets every Halloween and never run out of customers.’
Vermont looked squarely at Big Ben. He tilted his head slightly as if measuring him up then flourished his short sword which caused Big Ben to duck out of the way. Vermont swung it down towards the body.
Amanda though was stood less than a foot from him and seemed unwilling to watch a decapitation. As Vermont’s arm went down towards the body, she stepped in behind him and kicked his feet out from under him while simultaneously gripping his sword arm. A second later Vermont was on the ground with Amanda on his back, the same move she had used on me a few days ago, albeit that I had not been carrying a sword. The fun was not going to stop there though, Stefan was moving already.
His foot crunched into the items he had spread out from his backpack and he went in low to drive Amanda off his boss. He was closest to them, so none of us could stop it. His shoulder slammed into Amanda, knocking her from Vermont and onto the path where the three became a sprawling mess.
Only seconds had passed since Big Ben had to duck the sword but that was more time than he needed to get back into it. I moved to intercept Arthur, who was also now heading towards Amanda. I discovered that I had no energy, no balance and no fuel left in my tank, so my first step resulted in a stumble, flail, and crash to the ground. I bounced my chin on the path but only lightly and was thankful for that as I was then able to watch Big Ben in all his glory.
Arthur, focused on dealing with Amanda and bent low to pull her off Stefan, seemed very surprised when his head simply stopped moving forward. Big Ben had his hand on it like he was selecting a bowling ball.
Beneath Arthur I could hear Amanda yelling that someone was under arrest, then a foot flicked out into the light with one of her boots on the end of it. From the position of the foot, I gauged that she was now on her back which meant that Stefan or Vermont, or perhaps both, were on top of her.
The light shining through the trees illuminated bits of the scene in front of me, much like a strobe light at a disco in the eighties, and what I saw next was this: Big Ben had one hand on Arthur's head and one hand on his trouser belt. Arthur had been running towards him, so Big Ben just continued the motion in a classic use of momentum. I watched with joy as he swivelled on his back foot and lifted Arthur up and then onwards towards the river.
Arthur let out a panicked, ‘Aaaagh!' At a pitch far higher than he might have liked. It ended in a delightful splash a second or so later.
Without pausing Big Ben had reached for the next body on the floor, so that he had Stefan hoisted into the air and moving towards the river before his counterpart had made his splash.
‘Swimming lesson!' he yelled with glee as he sent Stefan to join his friend. ‘Any more for the pool?' he asked at volume. ‘I'm sure there should be a third candidate for the synchronised swimming team.'
‘Not this one,' insisted Amanda from the floor, causing Big Ben to pause.
‘Are you sure?’ he asked, clearly disappointed.
‘Tempting though it is,' she said between laboured breaths. ‘This one is in handcuffs.' We heard the metal on metal sound of the ratchet mechanism shutting.
‘You fools! You must destroy the beast. You must, or he will rise to kill again.'
‘Ah,’ said Frank by my ear, ‘he may be right about that, Tempest’
I let my head drop in resignation. ‘Frank just when I think I have got you onside you have to remind me that you are bonkers.' I levered myself up off the concrete just as Amanda was pulling Vermont up and onto his knees. Big Ben was looking around for something to do, probably feeling unemployed now that there was no one left to hit.
‘Listen to your friend, Mr. Michaels. This is not over,' yelled Vermont at full volume. I imagined spittle on his chin from his ranting.
‘Where’s Poison?’ I asked Frank, completely ignoring Vermont
‘I’m here,’ she said from behind me. ‘I can’t believe you came for me.’
‘We all came for you,’ I answered.
‘But you saved me, Tempest. He was about to kill me.’ If Poison was badly hurt, she was not showing it but everyone could see the blood that had poured from the small wound to her throat and was now covering her neck and upper chest, her clothing and her arms. I had interrupted her murder.
‘What are you doing here? You need medical treatment.’
‘I’m fine, Tempest. I’m sure it looks worse than it is. It doesn’t hurt. He was only just starting to bite when you showed up.’
I really did not know how to respond. On some level, she was probably right that I had saved her but then had I not pursued this case Poison would never have been in harm’s way. Had I not been closest to her when she screamed it would have been any one of the others that had got to her and Ambrogio first. My actions had not been heroic, just necessary and without thought.
‘Where were you held?’ Amanda wanted to know.
‘I woke up on a boat, they were all there leering at me, all except Obsidian. They drugged me with something, I was not conscious most of the time. Then I came around and I was over someone’s shoulder being taken off the boat next to
where Tempest found me. I started to fight which was when he bit me. He hit me when I screamed and the next thing I saw, was you fighting him.’
‘Well, I'm just glad you are alright, but let's get that wound looked at.' I turned to Amanda, intending to confirm that Paramedics were on their way. Before I could speak Poison crossed the short distance between us and grabbed my face with both hands to kiss me. What I expected to be a peck on the lips, given that we were surrounded by people, was instead a full-on, passionate tongue to the back of my throat kiss which she broke off only when I pressed my hand against her. Poison was staring right into my eyes when her face got far enough away for me to see it. She dropped her hands and snuggled into me; her head tucked under my chin. I held her mostly because I did not know what else to do.
Over the top of her head, Amanda was staring at me. I could not read her expression in the dark, though I silently cursed that she had seen me kissing Poison and I knew then that despite Poison’s obvious charms I could not allow my hope for sex to land me in her arms.
Paramedics arrived then though with a procession of police and others with them. I kissed the top of Poison's head and handed her over to them for treatment. She would need to be checked over and was certainly heading for the hospital. As I let her go, the two paramedics were gently taking her to one side of the path out of everyone's way.
‘Frank.’ I called. Frank was a few feet away talking to Big Ben, both stood by the body.
At my call, he looked up and wandered over.
‘Frank, do you want to go with Poison?’
‘Of course, of course. Someone should be with her.’
‘Do you have a number for her parents?’
‘No, but I will get her phone and make sure they meet us at the hospital.’
‘Thank you, Frank.' I left him then, so I could speak with Amanda. My priority now was finding Dozer. ‘Amanda?'
‘Mmm?’ Amanda was talking to Chief Inspector Quinn who had appeared from the dark without me noticing. On the crowded path, there were now maybe twenty people and I could hear more coming.
‘Mr. Michaels,' Chief Inspector Quinn addressed me. ‘In the thick of it again, involved where you ought not to be.' He stepped forward now getting into my personal space. ‘This time I have a dead body which was last seen alive by you. They tell me the death is accidental and you had better hope that we conclude that it is.'
‘Chief Inspector,' Amanda began but was silenced once again by Quinn sticking his hand in front of her face to shut her up. He had done this several times now. Did he do it to everyone? Or was this a misogynistic thing? I wanted to punch him on the nose.
‘I don't like you, Mr. Michaels. I don't like your methods and I don't like that you are interfering in police business. However, I recognise that you have assisted in solving this case and in bringing a dangerous man down. We already have several members of The Brotherhood of the Dead in custody. Given the evidence to hand, I believe we have can announce The Vampire killings to be over and the perpetrators either dead or facing justice.’
I said, ‘I need a favour.’
Chief Inspector Quinn made a snorting noise of derision. ‘I am not in the favours business, Mr. Michaels.'
‘One of my dogs was thrown into the river. They don’t swim well, and I would like some help to look for him if you can spare me the boat for a while.’
He just nodded as if I was asking nothing. Perhaps I was. He turned slightly, spoke into his lapel microphone and told me that the boat would be along to pick me up in a few minutes.
I nodded my thanks, but he was already moving away.
‘I’ll come with you,’ said Big Ben.
Between the trees, we could see the police boat approaching, its searchlight piercing the night. It could not get to where we were, so we left the body and moved back along the path to where it gets closer to the river. Behind us, SOCO was sealing off the area. I had lost sight of Amanda somewhere, but it didn't matter. I was dead tired, tussling between my desire for sleep and the absolute need to find my dog.
The boat had three different searchlights fitted, two fore and one aft. For the next hour, we scoured the riverbank for over a mile downstream, searching up and down in the weeds and bushes for any sign of him. It was near midnight and it was cold out now. Bull had started to shiver after a while, so he was asleep now inside the cabin of the boat wrapped in someone's coat.
I had started calling loudly for Dozer when I got on board and had not stopped until my voice had started to crack. Big Ben and others had joined in but now we were all but silent as we headed back to where Big Ben and I said our cars were.
Dozer had been missing for over two hours. I knew he was gone but I was struggling to admit it to myself.
I thanked the guys on the boat as they put me ashore. The chap piloting the boat emerged from his cabin with the barely awake Bull in his arms. As always, the little dog had been an instant hit. He handed him over for me to tuck under my arm, I wanted to thank him, but my heart was so heavy I knew I would not be able to speak without my voice betraying my sorrow.
Bull wriggled to be put down and found a convenient bush on the way back to the car. My car keys were still zipped in my pocket where I had put them thankfully, after all the rolling around this evening I could easily have lost them. I waved Big Ben off and sat in my car. Bull climbed off the passenger seat and on to my lap. He looked up at me and made a sort of chopping noise with his mouth. To me, it seemed as if he was asking a question, so I answered.
‘I don't know, little man. I don't know where Dozer is.' That was all I had left in me. I cried for a bit but eventually pulled myself together and drove slowly home. It was 0112hrs when I crawled into bed, still dressed and with Bull tucked in next to me.
Solving the Blue Bell Big Foot Case. Wednesday 29th September 0347hrs
The answer had woken me at 0347hrs, I could be accurate about the time as I had looked at the clock to see if it was worth going back to sleep. At some point in the last two and a half hours, I had shed my clothes although I had no memory of doing so. Bull was curled up under the duvet with me and stayed there as I threw on sports gear and went downstairs to the iMac. The exhaustion I had felt a few hours ago had faded to the background leaving behind a bone-deep ache from the recent exertions and injuries. My jaw was stiff from being punched, my hands were stiff from punching, it was all insignificant though and would be forgotten about within a week or so.
I searched Dr. Barry Bryson Ph.D. again and looked specifically for his research and the book he spoke about writing.
There was little reference to the book but what I found was its title: The Bluebell Beast. I swiped across to a new page and searched for the book to buy. I found it immediately.
First published in 2015 it was available for sale at £6.99 in paperback from Amazon. I read the inside cover blurb which revealed that the book was a supernatural crime novel with a hero and a large fearsome bear-like creature. The publishing house was not one I had heard of, so I clicked to a new page and googled them. Arthouse Publishing was a firm that would publish your work and distribute it for you if you paid for it all up front and they took most of the profit. Unfamiliar with the complexities of getting published, I suspected that this was a great way of getting your work out there but that most customers failed to recoup the initial outlay because their work was not worth publishing.
So, Barry was a failed author and had written about the very beast that now plagued the Kent countryside. I clicked on the file in which I had collated the information and notes I had on the Bluebell Big Foot. I scrolled around until I found the second newspaper article. It was the picture of the footprint, the best piece of evidence and the one that had got him into the limelight.
At a little after 0400hrs, I had a likely solution to the Bluebell Bigfoot mystery, I would follow up on it in the morning. I headed back upstairs to bed planning the next day in my head.
I woke up with the sun streaming through my bedroom windo
w. I estimated the time at somewhere close to 0700hrs but didn't bother to lift my head to check the clock. The sun was lighting up the branches of the cherry tree in my garden, now almost devoid of leaves, there was a comforting autumnal look to it. From my angle in bed, I could see nothing else save for tree and sky.
Unusually for me, I just laid in bed not moving. A warm lump by my right hip moved slightly, reminding me of his presence. I reached down with my right hand to scratch his ears and pat his rump.
The loss of his brother had hit me harder than I was ready to admit to anyone else. Bull was more clingy than usual, sticking to my side where normally he would find his own space. It seemed likely that he felt the absence of his brother more keenly than I, they had been together since Bull was eighteen months old. I had gone back to the same breeder to get what I hoped would be an equally excellent dog.
A sad smile then as I lay there remembering just how dumb Dozer had been. Where Bull would use a paw to open a door, Dozer would just stare at it. Where Bull would climb onto something to get to what he wanted, Dozer would stand beneath it and bark. Dozer even looked dumb with oversized paws and jowls. A dumb dog was a happy dog, a vet had told me once, and he had certainly been that.
He had drowned and been washed downstream; I was certain of that now. Even if he had not drowned, he would have been swept downstream, so my search radius was enormous and had he managed to escape the river he would have fallen foul to traffic or a wild predator or something. Dachshunds were great pets but were not able to survive in the wild by themselves.
Struggling against tears once again, I threw off the covers and headed to the bathroom chiding myself for wallowing in grief.
Bull did a perfectly good task of scaring the birds out of the garden by himself and trotted back to the house for his breakfast kibble. I let him in and he shot through my legs to find his bowl. I had work to do today. It would provide a welcome distraction from the hole in my heart and it would be nice to wrap up another case and get Mrs. Sweeting-Brand off my back.
