by steve higgs
Dozer was still upside down on her lap, snoring gently. She scratched his chest a little, her face thoughtful. I kept silent, waiting for her to coalesce her thoughts into… something. A name would be useful.
Nothing came though and soon I realised she had fallen asleep. I collected Dozer gently from her lap and clipped him back to his lead as he blearily came awake. Tapping Basic gently on the shoulder and with a finger to my lips we left Edna sleeping peacefully in her chair and let ourselves out.
That the Klowns had delivered a message, even if she had not comprehended its meaning, had to mean something. The messages the Klowns delivered to me had felt personal. I didn't understand them, but now I wanted to know how many others had been given similar messages as they were stabbed or beaten or robbed? It was a question I intended to have answered.
As we pulled out of the carpark my phone was ringing. The screen in my car claimed it was Big Ben calling.
‘Hey, buddy.’ I said as the call connected.
‘Tempest. Get me out of here.’ he was whispering.
‘Ben? What going on?’
‘I’ve escaped. They are probably looking for me. I need you to come to the hospital and get me now.’ his whispering voice was still able to convey a tone of desperation.
‘I thought you were enjoying yourself there, working through all the lady staff.’
‘Yeah, well, I was. Now they are starting to fight over me, arguing about whose turn it is. I think they have a roster up somewhere. The food is awful, even on the private plan they have put me on, and I am getting so much action I actually think that my dick is starting to erode.' I was finding it hard to feel sorry for him.
‘I am in the car with Basic. I cannot collect you – only two seats. Get a taxi?’ I tried, helpfully.
‘No money. I had to leave without getting my things. I don’t know where they are and when I asked for them yesterday, they became suspicious.’ The trials of being a sex god. How difficult it must be.
‘Just grab a cab to my office. I’ll sort the bill out there.’
He thought about that for a second. ‘Okay, Tempest. I think that will work… Hold on… Oh, nuts! I think they spotted me. Gotta go.' The line went dead.
‘Is Ben okay?’ asked Basic from the passenger seat.
‘I believe that depends on one’s perspective.’
‘Perspexitive?’
‘Yes, Basic, Ben will be fine. I expect we shall see him shortly. He was just being dramatic.’
The short conversation had taken us out of Tonbridge. It was very much lunchtime according to my belly, so I aimed the car at my house rather than the office.
The Blue Moon Office. Thursday, October 27th 1512hrs
Basic was quiet in the car on the way back to Rochester apart from when he yelled out "High score!" causing me to swerve the car as I jumped. I had been deep in thought, working through the problem I faced.
‘Sorry, Tempest.' he said, thumbs twirling on his Gameboy.
I let my heart rate return to normal and went back to the Klown conundrum. I called James from the car as we were setting off from Tonbridge and tasked him with digging out a list of every student Mrs. Wilkins had ever taught. I just hoped it wasn't going to be a wild goose chase. He had been about to leave, heading to a salon before his evening out in Rochester for his birthday tonight.
I kept checking my mirrors for the silver Mondeo or any other car that might be shadowing me. The road I was on though was a straight line that wound through all the villages between Tonbridge and the Motorway and then did the same thing once past the motorway all the way to Rochester. Conceivably, a car could sit behind me all the way from A to B with no evil plan being hatched. Furthermore, silver Ford Mondeos were common as muck. There was one behind me now about five cars back, but I could not see the occupants and it was gone the next time I checked.
Despite the possibility that Big Ben was on his way to the office, I needed to eat, and I wanted to drop the dogs off with my neighbour since I was going to be out this evening and really could not have them with me.
There was some deliberation over lunch as Basic did not want the spinach and courgette omelette I intended to eat. He had pulled a disgusted face when I suggested it. We settled on grilled ham and cheese sandwiches with pickled onions on the side. While they were heating through in my pan I popped around to see the lady next door.
As expected, Mrs. Comerforth was once again only too pleased to have them come to stay with her. I would not be back late so would collect them from her house before she went to bed. I gave her their food and bowls and dropped them off after Basic and I had eaten our sandwiches.
On our way from my house to the office in Rochester, we went via his house to check on his mum. She came to the door and gave me a wave as I sat in my car. Basic went inside but came out just a few moments later carrying a Tupperware box that looked to be suspiciously full of cake, which, it transpired, it was. His mum had baked a Victoria sponge for us, just in case we got hungry. He cracked the lid to show me when he got in my car, instantly filling the interior with the sublime smell of freshly baked goodness. My stomach growled at me despite the lunch I had just eaten.
Zipping along the tight country lanes that led through the villages close to the river, the phone rang again. I had taken the scenic route back to the office, partly this was because years of living as a theoretically attractive target for terrorists had drummed into me the need to vary my route and avoid predictability and partly it was because I was no in particular rush. Sometimes I was and would take the motorway, today I was not so I was cruising.
I jabbed the answer button on my steering wheel as the screen identified Big Ben as the caller.
‘Ben? Did you escape yet?’ I asked with amusement in my voice.
‘Damned right I did. I am nearly at your office. Have you got some cash?’
‘How close are you? I am about ten minutes away.’
‘Nuts. I’m about two-hundred metres away. Just coming past the back of the Castle.’
‘I’ll call James. He can bring some money down from the office.’
‘I need some clothes too.’
‘You are naked in the cab? Does the driver have wipe clean seats?’ I heard a woman laugh in the background.
Was he naked in a cab with a woman?
‘I managed to snag a gown and some pants but that's about it. The first three cab drivers refused to pick me up. Fortunately, Shelley, say Hi Shelley.' In the background, the woman's voice said "Hi". ‘Was good enough to understand my plight. We are going out this weekend.'
Naturally, he had picked up the cab driver and arranged to have sex this weekend while escaping from his hospital sex prison. What else would Big Ben do?
Big Ben and Shelley were now giggling about something in sexy, flirting tones. I said I would see him at the office and disconnected.
Ten minutes later I pulled into my parking space behind the office just as Big Ben was finishing up paying Shelley for the ride. His stupid, great-big head was shoved through the driver's side window where he was probably kissing her. He was indeed wearing only a hospital gown and some pants. In typical Big Ben style, he had not really bothered to do the gown up, so leaning forward it was hanging around his neck by a single spaghetti strap leaving him almost naked in the street. People were looking, which was, of course, the general idea.
He withdrew his head, beaming a big naughty smile and waved her off.
‘Hey, guys.’ he said, seeing Basic and I approach.
‘Doofus.’
‘Hardly fair.’
‘Naked in the street in October, been held captive for five days.’
‘Held captive by women in nurse uniforms so that they could have sex with me. It was not exactly torture.’
‘Why did you escape then?’
‘I appeared that I had gone through the list of willing ladies and some of them were coming back for seconds. There are too many women in this world to sleep with the same one
twice.’
‘What about Patience? Is she a special case?’
‘Actually, maybe. That lady knows her way around the bedroom. I tell you…'
‘NO! Basic and I have no desire to hear about your exploits in detail. Come on, I have a job for you since you are here.’
I started moving towards the pedestrian exit from the carpark onto Rochester High Street.
‘I’m a bit cold, mate. I could do with some clothes and a tidy up. I was hoping to borrow your car to get home.’
‘In a bit. You are perfect as you are for the task at hand.’
The task at hand was to visit Dr. Parrish and his make-believe Paranormal Investigation Agency. I did not take kindly to having my customers poached. Since I had Basic with me, who looks like an evil villain's henchman and now had an unkempt, mostly naked and slightly deranged looking Big Ben to accompany me, I felt it set the right tone for the conversation.
We drew a few stares walking along the High Street, mostly from women checking out Big Ben, so I was glad that his office was less than one-hundred metres from mine. I pushed open the spotless glass front door, making sure I pressed my hand to the glass and missed the chrome inset panel designed to keep people’s handprints from marking it.
Inside, I was met by the same tall, attractive woman behind the reception desk. Today she had on a different suit but looked equally well groomed. She looked up as I came in so I could see her eyes widening with the arrival of Basic and then Big Ben.
Scanning the room, there was no sign of Dr. Parrish but a closed door and muted voices coming from behind it told me where he was. I walked in a direct line towards the office.
‘Excuse me.’ The reception lady jumped from her stool to intercept me. Her face was cool and impassive.
‘I got this.’ said Big Ben from behind me.
Just as I was reaching the door it opened. There was Dr. Parrish, holding open the door for an older couple. They looked troubled.
‘Mr. Michaels. Always a pleasure. Won't be a moment.' I allowed him to slip by me to show the old couple out.
‘Oh, my.’ said the old lady. ‘Come along, Herbert.’
Turning around to watch him revealed what the lady had reacted to. Big Ben had the reception lady bent over in his arms, hanging from his embrace like a willing ragdoll. He was kissing her deeply. I still had no idea how he did it. He was good looking admittedly, but women just look at him and throw their knickers away.
At the door, Dr. Parrish went ahead of the older couple to hold the door open and bid them a good day, at least that was what I assumed his intention was. Instead, he glanced back at me, then legged it down the High Street. He checked over his shoulder once before he was lost from view in the crowd.
I guess I will deal with Dr. Parrish later then.
Left standing in his shop, I could not decide if we had just appeared too threatening, or if his guilty conscience had forced him to flee.
Big Ben looked up. ‘We done?’
‘Yup.’
He simply let go of the woman and stood up. She crashed to the floor at his feet, looking shocked and hurt. Walking away he blew her a kiss, ‘If you want more you know where to find me, naughty girl.’
Instead of hurling insults, which I am quite certain would have happened to me, the woman smiled to herself. Big Ben was unbelievable.
We wandered back to the office with Big Ben attracting yet more appreciative looks from female pedestrians. A young lady on a bicycle rode it into a raised flower bed while staring at him. Big Ben went to aid her, so Basic and I waited while he picked her out of the flower bed, dusted the dirt from her clothing and handed her bike back to her. All the while he was chatting amiably with her and complimenting her outfit. Then he handed her a business card.
He was wearing pants and a hospital gown!
I did not wish to dwell on where the card had been, but I had seen them before, he kept a supply of them to hand out to girls when he was short on time to chat them up. The card was little more than a “get it here” token. Again, I wondered how he got away with it. Back upright and back on her bike she wobbled off down the High Street with a grin on her face and almost crashed again as she checked him out over her shoulder one more time.
‘Come on, walking penis.’
‘Tut, tut, Tempest. You should be observing and learning, not getting envious.’
I rolled my eyes and went inside and up to my office. Basic and Big Ben followed me. It was warmer inside, making me realise just how cool it was outside and thus what a convincing job Big Ben had done of ignoring it.
‘Hi, guys.’ James said as we came in. ‘Anyone for coffee?’
We all nodded. ‘James, have you been able to find any victim or witness statements that refer to the Klowns delivering messages during their attacks?’ I asked him as he headed over to the kettle and cups. I went to the window and looked out.
‘Err, one or two, I think. It is not a detail I have been looking for.’
‘I am going to spend some time on that now. Are you staying for the afternoon?’
‘If you need me to. I was heading to a salon to get my hair done and then meeting Simon for a little food before drinks tonight, so I might as well just stay here rather than go home first.’
‘Perfect. We can tackle it together.' I said, still looking out of the window.
‘Is everything alright?’ James asked.
‘There are two chaps on a bench across the street.’ Big Ben, Basic and Jane came to look with me.
‘Yes, there are.’ Big Ben acknowledged.
‘They look like cops to you?' I asked. They were in their late twenties probably, wearing cheap suits and had functional haircuts. They were talking between themselves, but they were not eating lunch, they were not eyeing up passing girls and they did not fit in.
‘Maybe.’
‘Hey, Fellas!' I called out loudly. They both raised their faces to see where the shout had come from. I memorised their faces so I would know if I saw them again. I had a distinct feeling I was being tailed.
‘I could do with going home to get clean and maybe find some clothes.' said Big Ben.
‘Sure thing, just take the car and leave it at my place once you are done.’ I stepped down from the window and handed Big Ben my keys.
‘Are you coming tonight?’ asked James.
‘Most certainly.’ He replied. ‘I’ll get a taxi back from Tempest’s when I drop the car off later.’ Big Ben departed, leaving us to the task of yet more research.
I left James trying to find any record of the Klowns saying cryptic things to the victims and called Amanda. While I waited for it to connect, I went back to the window. The two men were gone.
‘Hi, Tempest. You are lucky you caught me; I am just going out on patrol.’
‘Have they got you working crazy hours?’
‘Pretty much. They have trebled the presence in towns and villages, in shopping centres and at any event that is taking place. Lots of overtime pay, which is nice for a while and most of the chaps want it, but it will get tedious soon enough. I am telling myself this is the last time I will ever do any of this, but it has meant that my shift countdown clock went out the window. I only had three shifts left and suddenly they have shoehorned in another four, plus each one of them is more hours. What can I do for you, anyway?'
‘I have a sneaking suspicion about the Klowns motive. Can you get me whatever information there is in the victim and witness statements about the Klowns saying things to them?’
‘What sort of things?’
‘Well, I don't really know. The old schoolteacher that was attacked…' I went on to explain the message they delivered to her and how I wondered if there was some personal connection. She agreed that my theory made a kind of twisted sense. I got a feeling there was something she wanted to tell me, but that she was holding back. When I pressed her for it she clammed up.
She had to go, so we said goodbye, I wished her a quiet patrol and I got back to the
task at hand. As always, James had found something.
‘There is a fellow here that was chased and robbed and given a beating two weeks ago in Borough Green. He was interviewed by the Weald Word in which he is reported to have said, “They told me I had earned it. I was a know-it-all bossy twat and had it coming.” He goes on to say that he had no idea what they were talking about.’
The statement fit the pattern I was looking for – it was a personal message delivered by the Klowns to an individual that I believed they had deliberately, not randomly targeted. But why? For the next hour, James kept on at the computer while I looked up numbers for the victims. These were not easy to come by as most people are unlisted now, the era of the mobile had killed the home phone market, but I was able to find a handful and that was enough. A young woman in Dover had been attacked leaving work in the carpark behind her office. The Klowns had not hurt her exactly, it had been one of the very early attacks, but they had certainly scared her and had told her she should have said yes when he asked her out. They had not elaborated on who he was.
Then I found another woman who the Klowns had slapped on the face repeatedly all the while asking her how she liked it and why did she think she had the right to slap his face?
James found another report in an online news feed. They all pointed to the same thing – the Klowns were targeting people with pinpoint accuracy. Everyone they had gone after was for a specific reason.
My whiteboards were filling up with information, getting to the point where I could barely understand them myself. I stood back and looked at the list again. Could I call it a pattern? Or was I forcing the pattern into existence because it suited my theory? I asked James, he just shrugged.
‘I really need to think about going, Tempest. Simon has a table booked for six ‘clock.’ I resisted asking him if he meant 1800hrs because I would just sound like a dick if I did. My watch claimed it was 1747hrs so it was indeed time for James to go.
‘Basic, can I get you a taxi home?’ I asked. He was taking his mum to bingo. He had been quiet all the while we were going over the case, sat at the table adding hues of greens and browns to a complex scene where herbivores were coming out of a swamp and eating the trees that lined the water’s edge. In the background was a carnivore watching them. He had done a good job.
