Under a Ghostly Moon (Jerry Moon Supernatural Thrillers Book 1)

by William Moore

  "Yes, along with Graham, my partner. We take it in turns to work the counter."

  "And do you get a good level of trade here?"

  "Well, it's enough to make ends meet and with the Internet sales we do quite well."

  "So you have an online store as well?"

  "Yes. It's quite a competitive business but we have the advantage that we make a lot of our own stuff so we have something different to offer."

  "Really?"

  "Yes, Graham makes a lot of the jewellery and I make the dresses. We do buy in some stuff like the leather gear but not having to rely on external suppliers helps to bring the costs down. Some of the stuff here might seem quite pricey but it's quite reasonable compared to other places. And, of course, it’s hand made."

  "I suppose that high prices come with being part of a minority customer base," observed Moon.

  "Yes, but most of our customers wouldn't think of it that way; appearance is a big part of being a Goth."

  "Jerry, what about this one?" asked Sonia, pointing to a small silver bat-shaped stud.

  "Don't you think it's a bit spiky? Anyway, with your lower topiary I'd have thought you'd want go for something with a bit of green in it to complement the ginger."

  "Damn, I guess so. Pity I'm too sensitive down there to dye it black."

  "Are you talking about what I think you're talking about?" asked the proprietor with a bemused laugh.

  "Yes, Kalysta, we are,” replied Sonia. “This is Jerry by the way. He's my latest squeeze - likes other people to call him Moon."

  "Hi, Moon," said Kalysta. "So someone's finally hooked our Sonia, and you seem like a nice guy too - if a trifle ordinary." Kalysta suddenly looked like she’d had an idea. "Sonia, if you can't dye your pubes why don't you go for a 'Hollywood' instead."

  "Uh-uh, no way," replied Sonia, "I'm not using anything sharp down there and I'm definitely not having it waxed, not after some of the horror stories I've heard. Anyway I'd probably get a rash. Some of the horrors I've seen in the showers at the gym are enough to put anyone off."

  Moon grinned. "I have to agree, plus 'Hollywoods' remind me too much of plucked chickens, I like a bit of bush."

  Sonia hit Moon on the shoulder. "This is my privates you're discussing in public!"

  Moon laughed. "Well you started it! Anyway, Kalysta, what would you suggest to go with a redhead, if that's the right term."

  “Well, there's this," replied Kalysta, pointing to a tiny green and gold enamelled dragon's head. "It's one of Graham's favourite designs."

  Kalysta opened the cabinet and handed the stud to Sonia. "I like it," she nodded. "Don't you, Jerry?"

  "I think he'll look great," replied Moon, "and kind of appropriate when you think of all those fiery curls down there."

  Sonia shook her head. "You're incorrigible!" she complained. "We'll take it, Kal."

  Moon handed over the asking price of twenty-five pounds. It seemed rather steep for something that would spend most of the time tucked away out of sight, but it was worth it for the smile Sonia gave him. "Now, let's see if there's anything here for you," she said, whirling him to face the racks of clothing.

  Moon ended up paying ninety-five pounds for a dark blue, high collared satin jacket with black lace on the cuffs and black brocade down the front and around the collar. He also forked out another thirty-five for a set of black, bat shaped shirt studs with matching cufflinks. "We can get a second-hand antique shirt to go with them in one of the vintage clothing shops up on Gloucester Road and then you'll really look the biz," said Sonia approvingly.

  Moon thought he'd got off lightly as Sonia had been egging him on to buy a pair of leather trousers with thong ties down the outside seams, which cost over two hundred. "I'm sure I will," he replied uncertainly.

  "Yeah, we've got to get you kitted out in time for the next band night," enthused Sonia. "What I think we should do is lighten your hair, bringing out the natural blond and you can have it cut in a close crop. That'll look better on you than black would and it'll emphasise the dark blue of your eyes. Luckily, you're already quite pale because you work nights, so a bit of pale slap and a touch of eye make-up and you should look really otherworldly."

  "I can't wait," replied Moon, trying not to sound as unenthusiastic as he felt.

  Before they left the market they stopped for a cup of tea and a cake at a vegetarian café in the glass-roofed area that lay between the covered market and the main hall. Moon was tucking into his date and walnut slice when a familiar voice from behind said, "Hullo, Mr Moon, Miss Crest, fancy meeting you here." Detective Inspector Whatley stood framed in the doorway to the main hall with several overflowing carrier bags in one hand and the hand of a small girl wearing a pink, hooded fleece and jeans in the other. A horsey-faced woman in a T-shirt and jeans stood next to him holding onto a pushchair in which was enthroned a bawling toddler of indiscriminate sex. "Sorry, Annie," said Whatley, handing the small girl over to her mother. "Do you mind if I have a quick professional word with my friends here?"

  "Okay," replied Annie with the hint of a sigh. "What do you want with your tea?"

  "A scone and jam, thanks, love," said Whatley, handing her a ten pound note.

  "Hello, Inspector," said Moon as Whatley took a chair at their table. Moon was surprised to see that his jeans and shirt looked like they had been put on crisp and freshly ironed that morning. Even the leather jacket he wore looked new and smart. It seemed that Whatley's reserved his scruffy persona for work Moon thought, with a badly restrained grin.

  "I'm off duty, Mr Moon, call me Art," replied Whatley.

  "You'd better call me Moon then and you know that this is Sonia." Sonia smiled at Whatley through a mouthful of cake. "Any developments with the murders?" asked Moon.

  Whatley nodded. "Well, nothing on those fatal attacks a couple of nights ago but we've arrested Andrew Gibbons for the murders of Dominic Llewellyn, Francis Walters and Lorraine Newton."

  "Andy killed them?" Sonia’s face fell with the shock of hearing Whatley’s news. "Why?"

  "Well, with Mr Walters it was a crime of passion as the French say. He and Mr Gibbons were lovers and Mr Gibbons killed him because he had accepted a job in Scotland but wanted to go up there alone. We found Mr Walters' body locked in a chest freezer at Mr Gibbons' address. Apparently, he couldn't bear to be parted from him even in death."

  "But what about the others?" asked Moon. "Surely, that wasn't enough to start him on a killing spree."

  "You'd be surprised," replied Whatley sagaciously. "But this is the part which might interest you. Shortly after killing Mr Walters, Andy Gibbons became involved with a local

  Evangelical church, probably because he couldn't cope with his guilt over what he had done, and, here's the odd part, he says that ‘the Lord’ told him to kill them."

  Moon's eyes flicked up to meet Whatley’s, filled with revelation. "Ah, this is beginning to sound familiar."

  "Isn't it just?" At that moment Annie arrived at the table carrying a well laden tray. She stuck a mug of tea and a small plate bearing a scone with individual portions of butter and jam under Whatley's nose. "Thanks, love… This is Annie, my wife and, Annie, this is

  Moon and Sonia. Moon's been helping me with a difficult case."

  "Pleased to meet you," said Annie with a sour smile. She gave Whatley a warning look. "We'll be over there on the next table but one, I'm not having the children exposed to the foul details of one of your cases, and don't be too long, we've got Debenham's to do before we go home and that place is murder on a Saturday," she told him sternly before she bustled off back to her table where the children waited. The toddler had stopped bawling and was happily attempting to cover its entire head and torso with freshly pulped banana, while its sister nibbled daintily on a slice of carrot cake.

  Whatley pulled a face. "Lovely woman most of the time but she hates shopping. Well, I can't take too long talking then, can I? Where was I?"

  "Andy Gibbons getting divine revelation
s," prompted Sonia.

  "Oh, yes. He said ‘the Lord' came to him at night wearing a cloak of darkness and told him that he was to kill one of the Goths who frequent the Hangman's Rest. Who he killed didn't matter but it was important that their body must be found and it must look as if they'd been killed by a vampire. He’d made this special contraption out of a king sized mole clamp and some plastic fangs – it’s the oddest thing but did you know that you can..."

  "...Get them off the Internet. Yes, I know," interrupted Moon, nodding his head resignedly. "But why did it have to look like a vampire attack?"

  "The 'Lord' had our Andrew convinced that your friend Mr Kievitch is a vampire in more than just pretence and that it was he that was truly responsible for Mr Walters' death. It wasn't poor innocent Andy's fault. Oh no. The evil 'vampire' had put the dark 'fluence on him and made him murder the love of his life. The plan was that, by leaving fresh kills around the places that Mr Kievitch frequents, he would draw attention to the evil 'vampire' and this would lead Mr Kievitch's 'true nature' being exposed so he could be dealt with in the traditional manner. Now is that certifiably crazy or what?"

  "So it was okay to kill other people to do this? It doesn't seem to make a lot of sense," said Sonia.

  "Oh, the 'Lord' assured him that anyone he killed would never be 'saved' so it was okay to bump them off because their lives were worthless anyway. 'Give me that ol' time religion,' eh? Unfortunately, he hid the first body too well so he had to kill again, this time making sure the body was more easily found." Whatley regarded Moon seriously. "Now, this would all look like a classic case of guilt driven delusion, if not for the fact that over the last three days there have been a large number of vicious and seemingly random attacks where each perpetrator has told almost exactly the same tale with a few minor variations. So either this is some kind of crazy lunatic's conspiracy or something very odd is going on… something very odd indeed."

  "Well, Art," said Moon thoughtfully. "We think we have some leads but I doubt if it's anything that would go down too well on a police report sheet."

  Annie Whatley, who was getting up from her table and had started to gather her children and carrier bags, yelled firmly, "Art!"

  "Just so long as we can find a way to stop it, sunshine," said Whatley, grimly as he rose from his chair. "Must be off, it seems," he continued, winking at Sonia. "Keep me posted on anything you get from your 'contacts'. I dread to think what's been happening out on the streets today now there's no rain to keep the loonies off the streets. Let's get this madness over and done with really quickly, eh?" The pleading look on his face betrayed the stress and concern he had endured over the last forty-eight hours.

  "I'll do all I can, Art," replied Moon sincerely as he shook Whatley's hand.

  "Just one thing, Moon…" Whatley waved to his beckoning wife to say he was coming and turned his knowing gaze back to Moon. "Your mate, Uri, he really is a vampire, isn't he?"

  "I can't say, Inspector," replied Moon as truthfully as he could.

  "Thought so," Whatley's face was a mask of shrewdness. "Well, as long as he keeps his nose clean on my beat he can expect no trouble from me, tell him."

  "I'll do that," said Moon to Whatley's retreating back.

  "Well, well, well, DI Whatley, the hen-pecked husband," muttered Sonia with a small smile. "I wonder if his wife knows what he wears to work."

  "I reckon it's his little bit of rebellion," replied Moon with a wink. "He’s not allowed to be scruffy at home so he makes up for it at work. He probably has a pristine suit in his locker that he puts on just before he goes home." They both laughed.

  "Whatley's right though," said Sonia. "There could be attacks happening right now. Do you think we should have gone back to Uri's last night after all?"

  "I don't think Uri was in a fit state." Moon shook his head. "Rurik's return seems to have really shaken him up."

  "Is there anything we can do on our own, do you think?"

  "I don't think we can do anything to stop any attacks from happening today but there could be something we can do to prepare for this evening."

  "What's that?" asked Sonia, eyes brightening with interest. "I think it's time for you to meet a very special little girl," replied Moon cryptically.

  Chapter 18

  Moon and Sonia caught the bus from the city centre then walked the three hundred metres from the bus stop to Moon's flat. "I want to see you in that gear when we get up there," said Sonia with a predatory smile.

  "That may have to wait for a while," replied Moon as he fumbled for his door keys. "I apologise for the state of the place, I'm not much of a housekeeper."

  "Not too many men are in my experience," replied Sonia.

  As they were climbing up to the second floor landing Anna popped into view. "Hello, Jerry," she vibed. "Who's this?"

  "Hi, Anna, this is Sonia, my new girlfriend."

  "Is there someone there?" said Sonia, her eyes peering into the patch of thin air that Moon seemed to be speaking to. "You know, I can almost see something - is it a little girl?"

  "She can see me?" vibed Anna with surprise.

  "Yes, I thought she might," Moon vibed back silently. Aloud he said: "I thought you might be able to see her, with a little effort. Those spooky feelings of yours got me thinking that you could be a latent psychic."

  "Why's she dressed like an extra from a sixties' vampire film?" asked Anna as she gave Sonia’s outfit a critical once over.

  "You watch too much television," teased Moon. "It's because she's what's called a Goth. I'll explain later."

  "Did she speak to you just then?" asked Sonia.

  "Yes, she was asking about the way you dress."

  "I thought that was what she said… something about vampire movies? And you actually replied to her without speaking?"

  "Yes, I call it vibing. Sometimes it's more convenient to use the ghost wavelength when there are living people around and I need to speak to a spirit.

  Anyway, I'd better introduce you so we can get off the stairs. Sonia, this is Anna, she died here nearly a hundred years ago when she was four years old."

  Anna curtseyed and said, "Hello, Sonia."

  Sonia laughed incredulously. "I actually heard that! Hello, Anna."

  "Anna," said Moon, "I was wondering if you'd be willing to teach Sonia what you taught me yesterday. I want to get her as familiar as possible with her own psychic abilities before this evening. Uri's going to train us to fight spirits and I think we could do with us both having a bit of a head start. It looks like there's some real trouble coming and I want Sonia to be able to protect herself."

  "Fine, Jerry, I'll meet you upstairs." Anna eyed Sonia for a second. "Although I don't know what you're worried about; in that get up she'll frighten away anything that wants to attack you."

  "You should see her with fangs," Moon vibed back with a

  grin.

  "Hey, hang on...!" complained Sonia, but Anna had already vanished upstairs. "She's got a smart mouth for a four- year-old."

  "Yeah, well she's had ten decades to perfect it," replied Moon as they climbed the stairs. "Don't take it to heart, she's just terminally bored and not used to company."

  "And has a crush on you the size of the Atlantic, or hadn't you noticed. She's jealous, Jerry!"

  "Oh?" Moon hadn't noticed. "I hadn't thought of that. I mean she's so young."

  "Four years old and going on a hundred? Anyway, little girls get crushes just like big girls do - poor thing it must be so confusing for her being stuck on earth like that. Not to say frustrating."

  "Well, she goes in for a little poltergeist activity to let off steam. Perhaps we'd better not make love here if we want to spare her feelings." He opened the door to his flat.

  "I think that might be for the best," replied Sonia. "Oh God, Jerry, this is squalid," she continued as she saw the inside of his bed-sit.

  "It's okay," said Moon defensively, "and I'm not forking out five to six hundred a month to pay someone els
e's mortgage."

  "I suppose so," replied Sonia eyeing a damp patch on the wall.

  "I'm here, Jerry," vibed Anna from the sitting area.

  "Hi, Anna," replied Moon. "Let's get started shall we?" Sonia tilted her head as if she was trying to pinpoint the source of a small noise. "She's over there by the settee, is that right?"

  "Yes, that's right." Anna, jumped up and down.

  "Thanks, Anna, I can hear you better than I can see you." Sonia sat down on Moon’s shabby green settee.

  "Describe how you see and hear me," said Anna. "It's important."

  "I sort of see you here," explained Sonia, pointing to the centre of her forehead. "And I hear you a bit behind that. It's almost like imagining something, but not quite."

  "That's called 'clairsentience'," explained Moon, drawing on the research he did when he had first discovered his gift. "It means that you don't exactly see or hear the Spiritual but sense it instead. Whereas I'm fully clairvoyant, meaning that I see the Spiritual pretty much as if it's part of normality, although I hear it more like a clairsentient medium, inside my head."

  "I call it 'ghost sense'," interjected Anna. "If you can sense with it then theoretically you should be able to fight with it as well."

  Anna proceeded to teach Sonia how to use her ‘inner ghost’ to touch and harm spirits in the same way she had taught Moon. It took a little longer because of Sonia's more limited abilities but having the two of them learning together helped them both to refine their technique. Eventually, each was able to snap hard at the other's inner ghost with a psychic extension, causing pain and - Anna assured them - spiritual drainage.

  "Now, don't over exert yourselves," she cautioned. "You both need to be fresh if Uri's going to put you through your paces tonight."

  "Okay," said Moon, turning on the television. "It's time for the evening news. Let's see what extra damage Rurik's crazies have done today." But surprisingly, although they watched through the entire national and local news programme, there was no mention of further attacks.