by steve higgs
‘Tell me about the attack last night.’
‘It would seem that a couple of lads saw something and went to investigate what it was. They came across the Phantom going into a building, gave chase and got hurt. One of them has a burn to his upper arm where the Phantom touched him.’
‘Really? Is it bad?’
‘Bad enough, I think. He is still in hospital, so we can visit him and get a better account of the events. I got his mobile number and name out of the ladies on reception at the Mill. The name is,' I watched as she lifted a piece of paper to read the note on the page underneath, ‘Chris Partridge. The other guy got away without being injured but we will need to speak to him as well to corroborate the story or give an alternate account.'
‘It sounds like you are on top of everything. What hospital is he in?’
‘Dartford general.’
‘Okay. Do you want to visit the Mill first or the hospital?’
‘Brett asked how soon we could start the case. I did not confirm we would take it, I figured I needed to talk to you first, but he is very much expecting us to be back in his office tomorrow morning to discuss the case.’
I took a slurp of tea and let the hot liquid warm my insides for a moment while I thought about it. I didn’t like Brett Barker, he a was a classist git, but that was not a good reason not to take his money or to refuse to pursue a potentially prominent case and solve a hundred-year-old mystery.
‘Okay.' I concluded. ‘I don't think the Phantom case and the death of Mr. Barker are linked. Whoever killed George Barker was not playing at being the Phantom one hundred years ago, and whoever is playing the part of the Phantom now is still operating even though Mr. Barker is dead.
‘That makes sense.’ Amanda agreed.
I downed the rest of my tea. ‘I guess we need to go see the poor chap in hospital, visit Brett Barker to officially accept the case and agree on costs before we start looking into the Phantom properly.'
‘Have you given any more thought to hiring an assistant to handle paperwork, emails and phone calls?’ she asked.
‘I have actually. I even looked at where to place the advert. The Weald World have a job page on which I can run an advert for free. We can do that now if you like.' I had been considering the merits of an assistant for some time. My initial plan had been to hire a person that could help with research, do some paperwork and sift emails and calls, but then Amanda said she wanted to work for me and suddenly I had a partner. She would share the burden of the growing workload and do the research with me or even have her own cases, so the nature of the assistant role had changed or perhaps increased in its necessity.
Amanda and I spent a few minutes crafting a job description after which we did a quick spell check and sent it to the website. A second or so later a note pinged back to say our advert had been sent for review and would be live within the hour.
Dartford A&E. Sunday, 10th October 1200hrs
‘We need to visit the chap in hospital, yes?’ Amanda asked.
‘That is our natural next step. We are still stumbling around in the dark trying to piece bits together at the moment. Chris Partridge, that was his name, wasn’t it?’
‘I believe so.’
‘He ought to be able to provide us with a new perspective.' I continued. ‘He came into direct contact with the Phantom. Physical contact in which he got injured. I want to hear exactly what he saw.'
Amanda had offered to drive, and I saw no reason to argue so we were whizzing up the M2 motorway to Dartford in her nippy little Mini Cooper just a few minutes later. It was the first time I had ever been in a Mini. A fact which I had never given any thought to before, but now struck me as odd given how many of them were on the road. The Mini was a masterpiece of design and a British automobile icon from the sixties. This was the relaunched version that BMW brought out two decades ago. I knew there were several different derivatives available now, but this was the original two-door un-mucked-about-with design and was nearly new. I liked it. It sounded good. It felt, from my passenger seat, as if the steering and handling were crisp and Amanda clearly enjoyed being at the wheel.
‘I do almost all my driving around town.' she had said when I asked her about the car. ‘So, it rarely gets a decent run. It feels nice to let her stretch her legs.'
‘I notice a gym bag on the back seat, do you work out often?’ I asked to make conversation.
‘Three or four times a week I guess, depending on my shift pattern. They have a small weights room at the station that someone put in years ago, but I go to SupaGym in town. The one by the clock tower.'
‘Oh, Yes. I know it. Is it expensive?’
‘I don't think so. There are cheaper options but SupaGym has lots of classes at times that suit me, so I think it is my best option. You clearly workout.' she said glancing at me. ‘Which gym do you go to?'
‘A small place on the Aylesford Industrial Estate called Meatheads. It has nothing fancy and everything I need. The type of gym that puts sawdust on the floor to absorb the blood and sweat.’
‘Sounds delightful.’ Amanda said wrinkling her nose.
‘I would love to be able to never go again, but I would be fat within a month.’ We continued talking about nothing much at all for a few more minutes.
The hospital Chris Partridge had been taken to was on the outskirts of Dartford where it bordered Crayford and was just a couple of minutes ahead of us now. Amanda put her indicator on and moved to the offramp to leave the bypass. I had not been to Dartford General before, neither had Amanda she said, so we followed the road signs to find first it and then its car park. The car park was a multi-story affair, but we were able to park on the ground floor as there were plenty of parking spaces available.
Inside reception, Amanda showed the middle-aged and rather portly gentleman on reception her police ID and was immediately given the exact whereabouts of the person she wanted to visit. We set off to the burns unit in the direction he had indicated. The hospital was colour coded, the walls of different areas painted to match the colours on the map. We were looking for the red area.
Amanda had helpfully found and printed a picture of him this morning and pulled that from her bag now. We walked along fresh, shiny corridors. Skylights and full-length windows let in plenty of light. There were people bustling in both directions and when we reached an intersection there were people crossing through the flow and getting caught up as they tried to weave between the continuous stream of human traffic. Dartford General was a new, purpose-built hospital with wide corridors and automatic doors. We passed through Radiology and X-ray and then maternity following the signs onwards to our destination. We reached a vaulted atrium where a coffee shop, newspaper and magazine stand and gift shop were located. It was all rather nice I suppose, but it was still a hospital, so unless you were here to have a baby, I doubted many came here for joyous events.
We reached the burns unit easily enough; Amanda flashed her ID at the desk once more and was pointed further into the ward.
Chris Partridge was sitting up in bed talking to another man who had his back to us as we approached. Chris was wearing jogging bottoms and a t-shirt, his right arm was bandaged from the elbow upwards, the dressing protruding from his sleeve. He looked up as we approached, and I saw his attention focus on Amanda. His eyes widened slightly, then I saw very visibly his eyes look down from her face to her chest, pause there and then go back to her face. It was something I had never seen before and I wondered what that was like for a woman. I brought his attention back to me.
‘Good afternoon, Mr. Partridge. My name is Tempest Michaels, this is my associate Amanda Harper.'
The chap that had been sitting with his back to us turned around and leaned back in his seat, then interrupted me before I could say anything else.
‘My Lord. Look, Chris. It’s an angel come to take you away.’ He was looking Amanda up and down.
‘She can take me anywhere she wants.’ he replied from the bed. They were both yo
ung men, perhaps mid-twenties and full of life. Which is to say, they were acting like lads, full of bravado and ready to outdo any other lads around them. They were not being very gentlemanly. I automatically opened my mouth to berate and belittle them both but caught myself before speaking. Amanda would most likely handle this herself and did not need me.
Looking bored Amanda leaned forward so that her boobs were right in front of the seated man’s face. He would be able to see down her top. She looked across at Chris on the bed.
‘If you two virgins need to see some tits, then here they are. See them?’ The boys were looking a little surprised, but the seated chap had a growing smile on his face. Amanda put a hand out to rest it lightly on the edge of the chair between his legs.
The seated man turned, smiling to his friend on the bed and was about to say something that he undoubtedly thought funny when her hand shot forward and grabbed his scrotum. His smile vanished instantly, replaced by a look of shock and terror.
‘What's the matter?' she asked. ‘Not had a lady touch you down there before?' she looked across at Chris again. The jovial look had disappeared from his face also. ‘Now then chaps,' the seated man tried to squirm away, but stopped as I watched her grip tighten, ‘we are going to have a little chat about what happened last night, what you saw etcetera and at no point during our little chat will either one of you look at my tits. Is that clear?'
On the bed, Chris remained silent. In the chair, the chap moved his head to glance across at his friend, probably for moral support but his attention swung immediately back to Amanda when she gave another little squeeze. ‘I asked you a question.' she reminded him.
‘Yes. Yes! Just please let go.' she didn't. Instead, she looked across at Chris and raised her eyebrows in question. He nodded and was very definitely looking at her face when he did so.
Amanda took a last look down her own top and seeming satisfied stood back up finally releasing her handful of balls.
‘So, as I was saying, chaps.’ I restarted. ‘My name is Tempest Michaels; you seem to have gotten acquainted with my colleague Amanda Harper. We have been engaged by Barker Mill to investigate the Phantom sightings and your assault last night. Kindly sit back and pay attention because we have a few questions.’
‘Let’s start with your name.’ Amanda asked the seated man who was now nursing his testicles.
He looked up. ‘Err, Gary Mitchell?' he hazarded as if unsure himself.
‘You were with Chris last night, were you not?’ she asked
‘I was.' he replied. He was a much meeker version of the Gary that had been sitting there when we came in. It was a neat trick, subduing them the way she had. I was impressed but acknowledged that it was not something I could learn. I suspected that if I tried such a tactic a fight would quickly ensue.
For the next forty-three minutes, we both asked the pair questions about what they had seen, what had then happened, how the injury came about and most importantly what they thought they had encountered. We had both looked up at one point and demanded Chris repeat what he had just said.
‘I said: It smelled like a girl.’
‘In what way did it smell like a girl?’ We might be onto something here.
‘You know those cheap as anything Katy Price perfumes you can buy in Wilkinsons or the supermarket? Well, she smelled like one of those. I have dated girls that wear them, so I recognised it because you cannot get the smell out of your clothes even after your mum washes them.’
‘You think the Phantom is a girl?’ I asked.
‘Oh. Well, I hadn’t thought about it until now.’ His face coloured and he paused to scratch his head for a moment while thinking how to answer. Then he looked across at Gary to gauge his opinion.
‘No good asking me, mate, I never got close to it. I chased after you when you said you saw it.'
‘Gary, did you actually see the Phantom?’ I asked.
‘Well, no. Not exactly.’
‘Yes, you did!’ Chris insisted. ‘I spotted it by the offices and pointed it out to you and we chased after it as it headed into the pump room.’
‘Sorry, mate. You said that you saw it and that was good enough for me at the time, but all I saw was something moving in the dark. It was over one hundred metres away; I couldn't really see what it was.'
Chris looked exasperated. He started waving his injured arm around. ‘Then how did I get this, dickface?'
It was a really good question and one that I wanted an answer to. ‘Amanda would you be so kind as to take Gary for some refreshments?’ I wanted to have Chris in isolation for a while. See if I could dig down to the truth. Maybe the wound was self-inflicted, and he was looking for attention and infamy. ‘I am sure Gary can regale you with his version of events over a coffee.’
‘Come along then, Gary.' Amanda smiled at him and extended her hand for him to take. Gary smiled a big lecherous grin, then remembered his aching testicles and reset his face to neutral. He stood up, making sure he was looking at anything in the room but Amanda's ample chest and followed her, not looking at her bum, back out of the ward.
I took a seat where Gary had been and took my time getting comfortable. I had a feeling that Chris had made the whole thing up. If he had, then he would now be worried about the truth being revealed, so I made him wait. If he was lying, he would be squirming inside.
I settled into the chair, arranged my notebook and pen and fixed him with my best anti-bullshit stare. ‘Why don’t you tell me all about what you think you saw last night and how you came to get the burn on your arm?’
Chris stared at me for a second, I think he could tell I was now dubious about his story, then laid his head back onto the pillow so that he was gazing at the ceiling and I could not see his eyes. Then he began telling me his tale.
He had been finishing his shift, but he and Gary had upset Mr. Stewart, their shift supervisor earlier that day so had been put onto cleaning duty. They had been outside sweeping and weeding for an hour after everyone else had finished and gone home. They knew that if they didn't get the job done properly, he would just have them back late on Friday which would mess with going to the pub, so they just got on with it. Heading to his car, Chris had seen, clear as anything, a figure wearing a floor-length black cloak, complete with a hood, coming out of the main office building. It came out of the main doors and turned in the direction of the Mill buildings.
He pointed and yelled to Gary and took off towards it. I interrupted him to ask him why. His simple reply was that he saw the Phantom. The Phantom ran from them and headed into the pump room. I would look up where the pump room was later. Chris got there ahead of Gary, but once inside he and Gary could not see the Phantom and could hear nothing but their own breathing and an occasional gurgle from a pipe.
They had elected to split up to search the room. He said the room was really big when I asked him about it. I didn't know what really big meant as big is not exactly a standard unit of measure. Prompting a better description, he said the room was large enough that they had lost sight of each other very quickly once they split up to search it. Chris and Gary had been able to talk to each other though by shouting. At this point, Chris admitted that Gary had asked if he was sure he had seen anything and had suggested they call it a night and get home. Chris said he knew what he had seen and wanted to look a little longer. The pump room was filled with equipment and pipes and had elevated walkways over several levels linked by cat ladders and staircases. He estimated that he had searched for about ten minutes and was about to give up when the attack happened. He was still talking to Gary, so could tell that he was back at the door they had come in through, waiting for him and getting impatient.
The Phantom had struck from behind by whacking him in the back of the head, perhaps with an elbow, but then he had felt blinding pain searing into his right arm where the Phantom had grabbed him. He had screamed in pain and fallen to the ground which was where Gary had found him a few seconds later. When Chris looked around the phanto
m was gone.
I looked down at my notes. I needed to speak with Amanda to see if Gary had any thoughts on the matter, but my gut reaction was that Chris was making it up and had planned to give himself a cool wound but had got it wrong and really burned his arm. I had asked him some questions which I thought would expose whether he was lying or not, such as how tall it was, did it speak or make a noise, could you see its feet when it was running away from you. Chris though was able to answer all the questions. The Phantom must be about six feet tall he told me because it was silhouetted against the door of the pump room door as it went it and he could gauge the height from that. It had not spoken at any point and it was too dark for him to see its feet. His actual answer was that it appeared to be floating across the ground at speed and he could not hear its footsteps, but I was convinced the answer was an embellishment.
I did have one more question though. ‘Chris, you appear to be the first person that has ever come into physical contact with the Phantom and lived. Given your unique perspective, who or what do you think it is?’
‘Dude,’ he started, fixing me with a serious look, ‘I have not the faintest idea.’
I thanked him for his time and left him. I spotted Amanda as soon as I went into the coffee shop area. She was alone at a table at the edge of the coffee shop area and was fiddling with her phone.
She looked up as I approached but did not move to get up. I placed myself in the chair opposite her. ‘How did it go with Gary? Did he have anything to say that would be of interest?'
‘He apologised for ogling me. Said he was just being laddish because he was with his mate and then he asked me out.' Amanda seemed to get propositioned a lot. ‘I declined by the way. Otherwise, he had very little to say that was of use. He hadn't seen anything except what he thought was possibly a shadow moving. Chris had shouted something and started running so he had run after him. It was only when they got to the pump room that Chris had briefly explained what he had seen. They went inside and split up and the next thing he knew Chris was yelling. When he found him the shirt he was wearing was smouldering around his right bicep and he was yelling that he had been attacked by the Phantom.' Amanda flicked through her notes to see if there was anything key that she had missed. ‘That's about it.' she concluded.
