by steve higgs
‘You reported the incident on Friday 8th. This was at,’ I checked my notes, ‘four o’clock. Yes?’
‘That is correct, my dear,’ he said, his voice a rumbling baritone.
‘Can you please describe the event? Give me as much detail as you can please.’
I listened as he started to describe going to the roof to have a smoke. The pentagon is the highest structure around that is easily accessed and he liked to go up there and enjoy the view. On the way back down, the lift had stopped. The lights went out at the same time, but it was only for a second or so. He thought nothing of it until he had arrived on the ground floor and noticed that his bag was missing. He had just bought a new pair of Nike trainers in Foot Locker and was going home. He assumed he had left them on the roof and had just imagined bringing them into the lift with him, but he could not find them there either. It was only then that he remembered hearing something about odd occurrences at the Pentagon on the local news the night before. He told me that he had wondered who he should tell, but then while he was standing next to the lift, he had spotted a pair of Police officers and waved to them. He told them the tale but could see one smiling to the other while he took notes. Then they asked him how much weed he had on him and confiscated the tiny bit he had left with a warning.
I wondered who the cops had been as this was pretty dodgy behaviour. I did not ask though. Instead, I pressed Mr. Franklin for more information. Asked him what else he remembered. There was nothing though. I thanked him for his time and thanked him again when he wished me good luck in my quest to solve the case.
I moved on to the next address. Two hours later I had visited six more victims, all of whom had similar tales to tell. There were a couple of differences though. One was a pretty girl called Poppy who had taken her little brother shopping to get a present for their mother's birthday. Poppy was seventeen, her baby brother, as she called him was fifteen and had a black eye. The black eye it transpired had been delivered by Poppy in the lift when the lights went out and someone had grabbed her left boob. She thought it was her brother and had whacked him in the face. Only when she saw that the shopping was gone, and he continued to deny any wrong doing did she concede that it might not have been him after all. Then she said something else that sparked my interest. She said that the lift had an odd smell to it. Like someone had been in there with food. I asked her to describe the smell but neither she nor her brother could pin down what it was they had been smelling. The best they could do was label it as something meaty. My interest dwindled – it was probably nothing more than the previous occupant getting in the lift with their lunch. Walking away from their house, I wondered if the smell meant anything, but I had learned that the ghost liked to cop a feel. My guess would have been that it was a man behind this anyway, but it seemed more certain now.
I would have ignored the remark about the smell had I not heard it again from a different victim that had lost their shopping on a different day in a different lift. Alison Daniels had not had her boobs fondled but she said the lift stunk and she almost got out again when she stepped in and gagged on the smell. Her description was of very heavy garlic but somehow not. I filed the information away, wondering if I could add two and two together to arrive at four, or if this was a red herring that I should ignore.
I was tired when I got home. Too tired to cook anyway, so dinner was a fishfinger sandwich using bread I had in the freezer. I made a few notes about the case on an A4 pad I had to hand but when my eyes started to droop, I went with them and fell into bed.
My Apartment. Wednesday, October 20th 0600hrs
The alarm went off at 0600hrs, drilling a hole into my brain until I found the off switch. My shift was the last in this particular sequence. Usually, the pattern was four earlies, then two off then four lates then two off ad infinitum, but in my notice period I had unused holiday to take so was using it up by chipping days off. I had three days off after this one. Buoyed by that thought I swung my legs off the bed and headed to the shower.
As I lathered my hair with the last dregs of my favourite Aussie shampoo, I made a mental note to add it to my shopping list and considered what I needed to do about the Pentagon ghost today. I wanted to get some cameras and see if I got lucky with them but would not have enough time after work to collect them from Tempest in Rochester and get them to the Pentagon in Chatham unless I arranged it with Martin and I did not want anyone to know that I was doing it. Maybe I could get Tempest's LGBT, cross-dressing assistant Jane/James to drop it off on his/her way home. He/She lived near Maidstone somewhere, so it felt possible.
While I was in the shower, I decided I ought to perform some downstairs maintenance before my date with Brett. Just in case… I had no intention of him seeing any of it yet, but equally, there seemed no harm in paying some attention to detail. I also shaved my legs and then went the whole hog, scrubbing my body with my favourite Molton Brown exfoliator. I left the shower, dried myself then liberally applied a matching Molton Brown moisturiser all over. I felt good and that was probably all that mattered.
I blasted my hair with the dryer and went into finishing touches. A tinted moisturiser, a swipe of mascara, nothing else. I didn’t feel the need for a huge effort at work. I had no interest in the men there and honestly could not care what they thought about my appearance.
I threw on skinny jeans and a jumper, added a pair of boots and headed for the door. I would change into uniform once I got to the station.
On my way there I called the Blue Moon office from the car. It was Jane/James that answered. How did I address him/her if he/she did not say who was speaking? I decided to always go with James if I did not know.
‘Blue Moon Investigations, Jane speaking. How may I help you?’ That made things easier. He had decided to be a girl today.
‘Hi, Jane. I need to use some of the camera equipment, the really small ones, but I cannot get there today to collect them. Will you be able to drop them off at the station on your way home later?’
‘Err, yeah. I don’t see why not. How many do you want?’
‘How many do we have?’ I asked.
‘Six, I think. I will check. Shall I just bring them all?’
How many did I need? I have eight banks of two lifts, so I would have to put whatever we had into some of the lifts – probably the ones with the most frequent occurrences and hope for the best. ‘Yes, that would be great. Thank you. You can ask for me at the front desk but if they say I am unavailable you can just leave them there for me.'
‘No problem. See you later.’
I pulled into the carpark behind the station where the sky was threatening to rain. There was moisture on the breeze and a dangerously dark sky in every direction. I was down to work the dispatch desk again today so it hardly mattered.
Inside though, once I was in my uniform, I found that I had been switched out and would be on the streets instead.
‘Hey, girl,’ called Patience as she crossed the room juggling a set of car keys, ‘Dannermann and Jones got injured and are on the desk. You and I get to go out for the day.’ She was looking rosy and chipper. Why was she looking so pleased with herself?
OMG she actually slept with Big Ben last night!
‘Did you shag Big Ben?’ I said a little louder than I ought to. Everyone in the room turned to look at us.
‘Damn, girl. Can you say it a little louder?’
‘Sorry,’ I blushed, ‘You did though, didn’t you?’ Our voices were hushed now so others could not hear what we were saying, and they had gone back to whatever they were doing.
‘A lady never tells,’ she said demurely.
‘Yes… but you’re a total slut,’ I pointed out politely.
‘Girl, that boy is fine. What is wrong with you that you didn’t already hit that? How come you’re always around all these fine-ass men and you never get any dick? I wasted no time. I rode him like a carousel.’
I couldn't deny that Big Ben was incredibly attractive, but like David Beckh
am, the illusion was broken when he opened his mouth.
I needed to move Patience onto a new subject before I got a full breakdown of last night while we stood in the office. What I said was, ‘Never mind that. How did you wangle getting the two of us on patrol together?’
She checked around to see if anyone was listening then leaned in close like she had something secret to tell me, ‘I didn't. They put you on with that Hardacre doofus, so I switched the names around on the board. We need to get out of here quickly before someone notices.'
‘Patience…' I started but then realised that I didn't care. I was no longer chasing a career here. I had nine shifts left including this one, so the old me that would have toed the line and done as I should have, was rebelling and up for some fun.
‘Let’s go,’ I said snatching the keys from her hand.
‘Hey! I’m driving,’ she yelled after me as I headed for the door. The hell she was. Patience was a terrible driver. It was one of the primary reasons she was on the dispatch desk.
Outside the rain had started, it was a steady drizzle that threatened to get worse. I held the key fob in the air and watched to see which car would react. A silver Ford Fiesta plipped its lights, so I dashed across to it and dived in before I could get too wet. Seconds later, Patience plopped into the passenger seat. If she really wanted to drive the car, she was showing no sign.
I started the car and pulled out into traffic. We had nowhere that dispatch was trying to send us yet, so we were supposed to take up a position on the outskirts of Maidstone town, close to the motorway. The inactivity was unlikely to last long, but now that I was not trapped at the station, I wondered if I could get away with whizzing over to the Blue Moon office in Rochester. I could grab the cameras and then later, if we were quiet, I could whizz to Chatham and put them in.
Yup, I was going for it. The best route at this time of day would be up Bluebell Hill and then down through Borstal to the back of Rochester Castle. It wouldn’t take long.
I knew Patience well enough to know that she was waiting for me to ask her about Big Ben. I also knew that if I ignored the subject or danced around trying to avoid it, she would get ratty.
I gave in and asked her, ‘Soooo… about last night?’
‘Girl I am exhausted! That man is like the energiser bunny. He kept going for hours. We did it in positions I’ve not seen before and trust me I’ve done a few. My Hoo-ha is still recovering this morning. I feel like I have been riding a horse all night.’
I could not say I was surprised. Ben had apparently slept with a lot of women and had a lot of random, emotionless sex. What did surprise me was the look on Patience’s face. ‘Patience, do you like Ben?’
‘Honey, I don’t know Ben, but I like his body. And his dick,’ she whispered, ‘So that’s enough for me to give him a second go.’
‘Patience, I hate to break it to you, but Big Ben doesn’t do second goes. He’s a one night only kind of man from what I know. I don’t want him to break your heart.’
Patience burst out laughing, ‘Honey, don’t you worry about me. This has nothing to do with my heart and the only thing likely to get broken is my Hoo-ha.’
The conversation about her Hoo-ha and Big Ben's amazing dick lasted most of the fourteen-minute drive to Rochester. The roads were clear, and people tend to just get out of the way of a police car. I parked next to Tempest's Porsche and went through the bottom door that led up to his office. There was conversation coming from the office, I could hear Tempest and Jane discussing something. They stopped though as they heard boots on the stairs and a head peered around the edge of the half-open top door.
‘Good morning, Amanda,' Tempest said. As always, he was well dressed in casual, but new, office wear. A pair of Ralph Lauren tan jeans with a white Gant shirt. He was a good-looking guy that looked after himself.
Behind me, Patience had clearly spotted him as I heard her whisper, 'Hot damn.' under her breath.
‘Hi, Tempest. I was put on patrol, so I have come to collect the cameras instead of having Jane drop them off.’
‘Cameras?' he asked. Clearly, Jane had not told him I planned to use them.
‘Yes,’ said Jane, invisible behind the door until Patience and I reached the top of the stairs, ‘Amanda is using them to catch the ghost at the Pentagon.’
‘Well, I hope I can capture it in action. Trouble is there are more lifts than we have cameras.’
‘Any theory about what is happening there?’ Tempest asked.
‘Not yet. At least I don’t think I have anything tangible. The Pentagon manager is a little odd, there is something off about him. But so far, all I know is that there is something odd going on.’
Patience cleared her throat. We had been ignoring her.
‘I’m terribly sorry. That was rude of us,’ Tempest said thrusting out his hand for her to shake. He was always so terribly British, ‘I’m Tempest Michaels. How do you do?’
‘Patience Woods,’ she replied, letting his hand go, ‘I thought I heard two men when I was coming up the stairs.’
‘Hi, I’m Jane,’ said Jane standing up.
‘Whoa,' Patience was gawping at Jane. It was the effect she had on most people when they discovered the tall, but petite, pretty, blond girl was, in fact, a man. Today Jane was wearing a wool dress and Ugg boots between which were a pair of patterned tights. It was all in hues of burgundy. Around her neck was a scarf that was mostly cream, but it was big enough to hang down over her flat chest to disguise it. ‘Are you a dude?' she asked.
‘Not today, no. I have two personalities fighting for dominance, one male, one female…’ I had heard the explanation a few times before. I was surprised that Jane did not get bored reciting it.
Patience was looking Jane up and down, inspecting her. Jane finished explaining that she awoke each morning gender neutral and let her mood dictate which underwear drawer she opened.
‘So, you have a cock?’ Patience asked. I rolled my eyes and walked away. Tempest had gone across the room to where he kept the equipment such as cameras and listening equipment. He also had night vision goggles and some other gear as well as a few weapons – nothing illegal and it seemed to stay put in the cupboard, so I made no comment about it.
Behind me, Patience had a list of questions to ask Jane, so I busied myself helping Tempest get the cameras out of the box they were in. He was checking each one turned on and that they had a battery charge.
‘Six of them. Unless you want to take the infrared as well, in which case I have another two which will make it eight. The infrared will not pick up much unless it is dark though,’ he explained.
‘Hmmm, that might work. The lights are reported to go out whenever there is an incident. The lights go out, the lift stops for a couple of seconds and then they come back on. Something is happening when the lights are out as several people have reported their shopping bags have gone missing.'
‘So, we have a thieving ghost riding an elevator?’ Tempest said, amusement in his voice. Tempest knew with utter conviction that there was always a rational explanation to the odd cases he investigated.
‘That is what I intend to find out,’ I replied, meaning it.
I knew how the cameras worked. They were tiny things, barely bigger than a thumbnail and would run for most of a day on a single charge. Like tiny webcams, their output could be linked to a single computer anywhere and watched remotely with all feeds on one screen.
‘You need anything else?’ Tempest asked.
‘No. I don’t think so.’
‘Well, if you come up with something you do need just call me. I will bring it. I do not have a lot going on here today.’
‘No case?’ I enquired. ‘It sounded like you were discussing one when Patience and I were coming up the stairs.’
‘A banshee. Jane had a very convincing email from Rita Underworth. A banshee living in her bedroom closet, keeping her awake at night, should she be worried about it sucking out her lifeforce when she did sleep.
Could I help, etcetera?'
‘It sounds just like your kind of case.’
‘Exactly. So, I made a phone call and discovered that Rita Underworth is nine years old. I spoke with her mother and the banshee is the old boiler which makes noises in the night as water gurgles through it. Jane and I were just laughing about it when you turned up because I almost drove to the address instead of calling first.’
My radio squawked from its position clipped to my lapel. Dispatch had a job for us. I took the box of cameras, thanked Tempest for his help and told him I expected to be able to wrap the case up in a couple of days. Patience was still asking Jane about her junk and where she put it so that it didn’t show up if she was wearing tight jeans. I shoved her towards the door. We needed to go.
The Pentagon. Wednesday, October 20th 1347hrs
The call we responded to was a domestic disturbance. Fortunately, it was this side of Maidstone and we got there in just a few minutes – before dispatch enquired where we had been anyway. Dealing with it, arresting the lady of the house when she continued to be violent even after we arrived, took up the rest of the morning and it was after lunch before we were free to consider going to the Pentagon to put the cameras in. That was what we did though.
I parked the squad car right next to the doors that led from the car park to the shopping centre. Why circle looking for a spot when I had my own park anywhere-I-like device? Patience asked what we were doing, so I explained as best I could that I was going to put the tiny cameras on the ceiling of the eight lifts that had suffered the most frequently reported incidents.
I considered telling Martin Miller what we were doing but decided against it. If no one knew, then there was no chance of a warning getting back to the person or persons behind this.
