by Ian Kidd
CHAPTER TWO
Ian, Matthew, Scott, Banix, Steve, Robert, Philip and Sarah filed into the office of Police Chief Steven Brick, who was sitting at his desk flicking through files.
Ian coughed.
Steven coughed. "Ah, Ian. Sit down, all of you."
The gang did so. "You wanted to see us?" Ian inquired.
"I did," Steven nodded.
"Well?" Matthew pressed.
Steven frowned. "I think I have a case for you."
"You think you do?" Scott queried.
"I want you to stop three babies from being abducted tonight," Steven told them.
"Sounds like a case to me," Robert noted.
"Mm," Sarah agreed.
"So who are the babies?" Ian wanted to know.
"That's just it," Steven fidgeted uncomfortably. "I don't know. In fact, I have no idea. In fact, I have no idea if it's even going to happen."
"Well, as long as we're not wasting our time or anything," Matthew whistled.
"I think you'd best explain, Steven," Ian told him.
"I suppose I had," Steven acknowledged, leaning back in his chair. "Today's Halloween. You're aware of Halloween?"
"A festival celebrating all that is evil and wicked in the world when small children knock on your door and demand sweets with menace, yes?" Ian summarised.
"Something like that," Steven acknowledged with a wry smile. "Two years ago on
Halloween night, three babies vanished from their homes. Literally disappeared from their cribs, never to be seen again. Oh, a massive search, inquiry, manhunt etc were all held, to no avail. Parents were suspected, everyone was suspected, it was a massive media circus. But no one was ever charged, and not one of those babies was ever found, alive or otherwise."
"Jesus," Philip commented.
"Mm," Steven nodded. "Then last year it happened again."
"What?!" Ian exclaimed.
"Three babies vanished, Halloween night," Steven told them. "This time, though, one of the cases was different. The parents were never suspected."
"How come?" Matthew cocked his head.
"They were found dead," Steven laid out a picture. "Nick Grover, thirty two, found in his doorway, dead. No apparent cause, but the door was wide open. Upstairs - " Steven laid out another photo, one that made all the gang wince, " - all that remained of his wife, Jessie Grover."
"Holy crap," Robert mouthed.
"That's NASTY!" Steve grinned approvingly.
"The baby was gone, along with two others that night," Steven continued. "Once again, no suspects. Once again, no trace of them was ever found."
Ian nodded, beginning to see where Steven was headed. "And now it's Halloween all over again."
"Exactly," Steven confirmed. "This is my first year as Police Chief. I don't want this Halloween to be three for three, if you know what I mean."
"It always happens at night?" Sarah questioned. Steven nodded.
"But how are we supposed to protect three babies if you don't even know which ones are likely to be targeted?" Matthew demanded. "There must be dozens of babies in Maltby."
"Forty born in the last six months, actually, twelve in the last few weeks," Steven told him.
"Even if you lot help, we can't possibly protect them all," Matthew objected.
Ian was eyeing Steven sagely. "There's something you're not telling us, isn't there?"
Steven nodded. "I've analysed the reports, checked the statistics, done the research. On both Halloween's, the three babies that were taken, they were the NEWEST babies born closest to Halloween night."
"Is that significant?" Robert asked.
Steven shrugged. "I don't know, but it's a hell of a coincidence."
"I agree," Ian said sharply. "That's not a coincidence, that's an m.o." He looked at the gang. "I think we can manage to protect three babies, don't you?"
"Will the families go for it?" Philip asked.
"They've already given their permission. I - er - assumed your agreement in advance,"
Steven smiled.
"Cheeky sod," Matthew nodded.
"Here are their names and addresses," Steven handed Ian the list.
Ian took it, looking at him. "Who do you think is behind these kidnappings, Steven?"
"I don't know, Ian," Steven replied honestly. "But someone bloody clever, and – judging from those photos - bloody dangerous, too."
"And what do you think they've done with the babies?" Sarah questioned.
"That," Steven admitted, "I'm not sure I want to know."
Ian's Gang Base, 5:15pm.
"Alright, we split into three groups," Ian was giving final instructions. "Scott, Banix,
Steve - you take the Winchester's. Robert, Philip, Sarah - the Sutherland's. Me and Matt'll take the Campbell's - Steven's gonna join us there. Everyone clear?"
"Clear," the gang chorussed.
Ian set his jaw determinedly. "Then let's go to work."
6:00pm.
Dusk was approaching, and as darkness fell, something was happening in a clearing in
Maltby Woods. The air parted, and materialising from nowhere were three green, old, revolting witches. In front of them was a black, bubbling cauldron.
"The soup looks good this year, Gladys," one crooned.
"Thank you, Esmeralda," Gladys croaked. "Of course, it still leaves the final, vital ingredient, does it not sister Wendy?"
"Indeed," Wendy cracked a horrible smile.
"Boiled baby fat!"
