5 The Witches of East Malling

by steve higgs

  ‘Amanda went to check something out. A potential client. Right, sign writers. You want to call them yourself?' James asked as the printer churned and spat out a sheet of A4 paper. I picked it up. Efficient as always, James had given me all the signwriters in the area.

  ‘I’ll call them shortly. You want a cup of tea?’ I asked as I headed towards the kitchen. Then I remembered something.

  ‘Sure thing.’ His voice drifted through from the other room.

  I turned the kettle on then went back through to the office rather than shout through. ‘Where’s Hilary? Did he go out?’

  ‘Yeah, said he needed to go for a walk about an hour ago.' James replied without turning away from the computer screen. It was probably for the best that he didn't mope about in my house. Having decided that he was not going to work, he needed to find something else to do with his day. The kettle button clicked off to announce the water was hot. I left the office.

  ‘How did the research go?’ I called back from the kitchen loud enough for him to hear me.

  ‘I found your coroner lady. You were right about her being super-hot.' I was still sure I hadn't used the term super-hot. ‘She was also the coroner on the first victim, the client's father.'

  Was she now?

  I scooped up the two mugs of tea and walked back through to my office/dining room.

  Just coming off the printer was a photograph of the coroner. Victoria Mallory. James had taken the photograph from the coroner's department website. It listed her qualifications but gave away no personal information. I walked it to the wall and pinned it to a cork board I had there. Then I moved to a whiteboard and wrote her name, then the names of the two victims and linked her name to each of them.

  I needed to gather a lot more information, but I also wanted to quiz Dr. Victoria Mallory. I wondered if she would agree to meet me. As with many other things, there seemed no harm in trying. I had a couple of schemes brewing, a couple of ideas to get inside the group of wives at the centre of this and find out more than they might willingly tell me. At this stage, I was unknown to the ladies, which might give me an edge.

  The thing that was troubling me more than anything though was the incredibly violent nature of the death. Mick had said that her stepmother Mabel had an alibi for the time of his father's death. I also knew that Barbara had an alibi for the time of her husband's death. I was with her when it happened. So, if it wasn't lightning causing the freak deaths, and the ladies were nowhere near them when it happened, then how the heck were they pulling it off?

  Witchcraft.

  The answer presented itself for instant dismissal. I was stumped though. Try as I might, I could not come up with a way to make a man’s heart explode out of his chest.

  So, what did I need to do next?

  ‘James, what else did you find out this morning? Did you get anywhere with lightning strike research or find a local expert I could talk to?’

  ‘No local expert yet. The Universities around here just don’t do meteorology. I wondered whether I might have more luck trying the radio or local tv stations to see if their weather presenter might have worthwhile qualifications. I haven’t got that far yet though. What I did find was a similar heart exploding out of the chest incident from a couple of years ago.’

  ‘Show me, please?’ James pulled up a clip from a news report. It was more than two years old and one had to read between the lines to understand what had happened. The brief report said that David Melrose had been killed when a freak lightning bolt entered his chest and caused immediate death. It did not actually say that it exploded his heart, but the suggestion was there.

  ‘There are two more.’ James said, ‘Only weeks apart.’

  He pulled these up as well and the printer started whirring as it began printing them. The news reports were inconclusive, but they were a lead of sorts. The three deaths spanned a period of just over a month in total. Each victim was a middle-aged man, and each left a widow. The deaths were all in Tipton. I didn't know where that was and had to look it up. It was just outside Birmingham.

  ‘I wonder if there are any more?' I asked more of myself than James.

  ‘I’ll keep looking.’ James answered anyway.

  I nodded. ‘James, I am going out. Lock up when you leave. I'll take the Dachshunds with me.'

  ‘Okay, boss.’ He replied.

  Stake out. Monday, November 6th 1313hrs

  I had the home address for each of the ladies and had driven to two of them before I found one that looked like it was worth staking out. At the first two, which belonged to Mabel and Edna, there was no sign of activity. I had been able to determine that Edna's husband worked in the city in a banking job of some kind. He probably earned good money, but despite that their house was the most modest of the ones I had seen so far, certainly it was far smaller and less grand than Barbara's place, which she didn't have to share any more on account of her husband being dead and it was much less opulent than the palace Mabel occupied. Mabel's husband hadn't been dead long enough for her to have moved to somewhere new already, at least that was what I was telling myself, so the house I had seen earlier was the house they had together.

  Both Mabel and Edna looked to have gone out already. They both lived on the same side of East Malling and not far from one another. Barbara’s house was all the way over the other side of the village, which through the winding roads was quite a distance. Dorothy’s address though was right in the middle, so I went there next.

  As I drove slowly by her driveway, looking to see if it looked like she was home, I spotted a car on the drive. I had not been able to identify what car she drove yet, but the bright white Mercedes SLK had her name written all over it. I circled around and found a place to park. I had the dogs with me so I was going to walk them and accidentally lose one onto her property so I had to chase it.

  This was an easy effect to achieve. All I needed to do was suggest that there was a cat while letting go of a lead. The dog would do the rest. Once I had chased the dog down the drive I could have a quick look around to ascertain if anyone was there. If the lady came out because she had seen me I could retrieve the dog, apologise and make a show of having to chase the naughty creature.

  I hooked the leads onto their collars and plopped first one then the other dog onto the ground outside the car. I had parked less than fifty metres from her house but had gone no more than ten metres when, ahead of me, her car appeared at the end of her drive, indicating to turn left toward West Malling.

  I froze for a second, then scooped both dogs and threw them back into the car with an apology. I would walk them properly soon. This was exactly what I wanted though. She was going out, and I knew two of the other ladies to already be out. I was hedging a bet that they were meeting. I would only find out if I could get my arse moving and catch up to her before she took one of the many turnings available to her and was gone.

  Thankfully, with so many routes to guess from, she headed straight for West Malling and I was able to catch up to her. There was a silver BMW between us, so I was not too conspicuous I hoped, sat two cars back in my bright red Porsche.

  To prove that some days you just get lucky, I followed her all the way to West Malling where she swung into the main car park that serviced the small town. I didn’t want to follow her in, but my luck held, and a parking space came available in the High Street as a car’s reverse lights came on just ahead of me.

  I had lost sight of Dorothy of course and would need to carefully catch up to her in the car park. When I got out of my car though I spotted, on the other side of the road, parked right in front of the Spangled Star public house, the Range Rover from yesterday.

  Bull barked at me. He wanted to get out of the car and was telling me off. He was standing on the driver’s seat and trying to work out if he could get through the gap between my leg and the door. Maybe he had business to attend to.

  I placed both dogs by my feet on the bit of road between the cars. I wanted to have another go at
eavesdropping on the ladies, but I had elected to bring the dogs with me and needed to make sure they were comfortable first. I crossed the road and walked them in front of the pub window hoping to see the four ladies inside.

  I got a shock as they were at the table in the window and all looked at the man looking in at them. There was a fifth person with them.

  I cut my eyes away and continued down the street. The fifth person was another woman, or at least I believed that to be the case. She was wearing a black shawl with a hood, her face hidden from view, so I was judging gender by the shape of the shoulders and back alone.

  Walking down West Malling High Street, I was reminded how much I liked the place. There were so many wonderful shops to poke around in and not a franchise in sight with the exception of a coffee chain. I should bring Natasha here! I could collect her in my car, it was a nice drive that was unlikely to run into traffic anywhere and would give us a chance to chat. Thinking about Natasha made me feel excited. She had kissed me a while back and it had been very nice. I could imagine being quite smitten by her if we ever got that far.

  The lead in my right hand jerked to a halt. I hadn’t been paying attention and Bull was now hunched over in the street going about his business. It was less than ideal, but I don’t think dogs consider such things. When they need to go, they go.

  I checked my pocket to reassure myself that I had a baggy and waited for him to finish. I got a frown from a woman walking by. She was probably concerned that I might not pick up after my dog. I was an ardent fan of berating people for failing to do exactly that thing. Who wants to step in poop? I wasn't a fan of picking it up, who would be? But it went hand in hand with having a dog.

  Task complete, I walked to the end of the road and then back up to the pub. There was a nice park in West Malling where I would take the dogs for a proper run around after I had spied on the ladies. Until then, the quick walk would have to do, and I would get them a packet of crisps from the bar as a reward for putting up with being messed about.

  The pub had a back way into it via the car park. Rather than walk in through the front door and within feet of the group I intended to spy on, I came in through the other door instead. Weaving my way through the lunchtime crowd, I could see a space at the bar. I needed to be close enough to hear what the ladies were saying. It was the third time in a few days that I had been in close proximity to them. I worried they might have noticed me at the Golf Club yesterday and would now wonder why they were seeing me again.

  It was a genuine concern, but I could do nothing about it now so dismissed the notion and went to the bar. I would keep my back to them and listen for their chatter. If I could, I would try to get a look at the fifth person. With my back to them the whole time I was sure they would not even notice me.

  ‘Ooh look, Mabel. Dachshunds.' Cried Dorothy, pointing to Bull and Dozer.

  Of course. My plan to be inconspicuous had backfired. I had taken two small, cute dogs into an environment with women. The dogs immediately started wagging their tails. They were well-attuned to the cooing of women. It meant fussing and treats.

  They were straining to get me over to the table of women, I was trying to get to the bar where I was clinging to the hope that the ladies would go back to their conversation and let me eavesdrop.

  Dorothy was off her chair now though, as was Edna and both were happily ignoring me as they knelt to pet my sausage-shaped idiots. Both dogs had inverted themselves for tummy tickles and had their heads back and their eyes closed as the ladies obliged. Both dogs had a faraway expression on their face as they were transported to a happy place.

  Dammit.

  ‘Oh, aren’t they lovely?’ Cooed Dorothy.

  ‘Can I pick him up?' Edna asked of me, it was the first time any of the ladies had looked directly at me. There was no sense in her eyes that she had seen me before. She had Dozer at her feet and wanted a proper cuddle.

  ‘Of course.' I almost slipped up and said her name in my reply, catching myself only as the word formed on my lips. I reached down to unclip both dogs and watched as they were scooped into the air. ‘I'll be at the bar, ladies.' I turned around. Maybe this would work out after all.

  Edna and Dorothy went back to their seats and I listened. Now, bear in mind that Barbara’s husband was killed yesterday in the most horrible manner. One might expect her to be upset, inconsolable, tearful… pick an adjective you like but none of them would apply. With her three friends, it was business as usual. Barbara began berating Edna and Dorothy for being distracted by the dogs. They had important topics to discuss it seemed.

  Watching in the mirror, I saw the mystery woman raise an arm. From the sleeve of the shawl poked a bony hand, withered and old. The motion caused the other women to fall silent. The hooded face turned toward me, and I saw the person inside for the first time.

  It was a witch.

  I could not find another word with which to describe her. Were a child to draw a witch this would be the result. Hook nose with a wart on it, on her chin and under her nose there were a few thick and very visible strands of hair that anyone else would have plucked or shaved. A giant brown mole on her left cheek had yet more hair growing from it, and when she spoke I saw blackened and misshapen teeth. Her hair, what little of it I could see, was black, shot through with grey and unkempt inside the shawl. Her eyebrows were bushy and wild.

  She locked eyes with me. It was quite deliberate, and she pointed a bony finger at me, pinning me to the spot.

  ‘Spy.’ She announced, her voice like fingernails on a chalkboard. ‘He is spying on us.’

  Whoever she was, how she had identified me, did not matter. I was not going to be able to eavesdrop on their conversation and they would be looking for me now which would compromise my investigation. I could worry about that later. Right now, I needed to leave and to do that I needed to get my dogs back.

  ‘I think I’ll take these, thank you.’ I said, scooping the dogs from the laps of Dorothy and Edna. They both looked a little shocked, but then all the ladies did except for the witch. She was just watching me, her eyes accusing.

  It was a little unnerving. She somehow knew who I was or at least knew my purpose in the bar. Had she just guessed? Did my actions somehow betray me? I was back at the door of the pub and walking away, but then had a thought. I was busted anyway, so why not do something to advance my investigation?

  I walked back to the table, pulled out my phone and took a photograph of the surprised witch’s face. With a quick nod of thanks, I made good my escape. As I went, I emailed the picture to James with a request that he try to find her. It was a tough task I suspected but he surprised me all the time with what he could achieve sat at his computer.

  I had not managed to get the dogs their promised packet of crisps and was now going to bundle them back into the car yet again. I paused before I got to it though, there was another course of action open to me.

  Surveillance. Monday, November 7th 1404hrs

  I kept a few items of basic surveillance equipment in the boot of my car in a bag. One of the items was a small, battery-powered camera that linked to my laptop. It was very likely that all the ladies, except for Dorothy, had parked in the town's main car park behind the pub. I just needed to mount the camera in a place where it would pick up the cars as they left. I could see what car the witch was in, very probably get a shot of her number plate and through that James would be able to find out who she was. If she had a car and could drive, of course.

  I hit the button on my key fob to open the boot and fished out the bag with one hand. It had a shoulder strap which I hooked over my head to fish around in it as I crossed the road. If the dogs were confused about where we were going or what we were doing, there was no sign of it. Both were trundling along happily by my feet, their tails wagging as they went.

  Not far from my car, I found a convenient road sign that faced the car park exit. The camera had a magnet on the back so attaching it I barely broke my stride. I doubted anyone
would see it, it was not much bigger than a fifty pence piece, but there was a risk it would get stolen and it wouldn't do well with rain if the weather changed.

  I gambled that the ladies were not going anywhere for a while having only just arrived, so I packed the dogs into the car and took them to the nearby park. I could leave the car at the park and walk back, find myself a shady corner to stand in and have myself a little stakeout until they left. I was also a little worried that they might know my car. The witch seemed to know me, so it didn't feel like much of a leap. If they did, then I wanted them to believe I had left.

  Of course, I didn’t really think she was a witch. She was just an ugly old lady, but my natural conclusion was that she was at the centre of the deaths. Possibly even the one causing them since the wives each seemed to have iron-clad alibis. How she was doing it remained a key question.

  At the park, I wandered slowly back in the direction of the town centre, letting the dogs scamper back and forth. As they entertained themselves, I phoned Frank DeCaux, owner and manager of the Mystery Men bookshop in Rochester.

  ‘Mystery men. For all your supernatural literature needs.’ It was Poison that answered the phone. Ivy Wong, AKA Poison was Frank’s very attractive assistant. She was his only member of staff, she was nineteen years old and she had a thing for me that I was refusing to take advantage of.

  ‘Hello, Ivy. It’s Tempest. Is Frank there, please?’

  ‘Hello, Tempest.' she purred down the line at me, her voice instantly demure and suggestive. ‘He's right behind me. Somewhere you should be.' Her flirty words went straight to my groin. Mr. Wriggly had been very grumpy with my decision to not pursue nocturnal activities with Poison. If he could have sworn at me, he would be doing so right now.

  ‘Tempest?’ Frank’s voice came onto the line.

  ‘Hi, Frank. I have a picture to send you. I think this one is really a stretch, but I am wondering if you can identify a person. Hold on.’ I took the phone from my ear and switched it to speaker. ‘Photo is on its way to you now.’