by steve higgs
Not good.
Crowds are stupid. It was something I had learned long ago in Bosnia, but back then a short warning burst from the gun mounted on my armoured vehicle would get their attention and split them up pretty quick. I did not have that option here.
‘Ben?’ I enquired.
‘Yeah?’ he answered.
‘Just checking.' Time to try talking my way out of this. I dropped my ready-to-fight stance, straightened myself and attempted to combine a look of relaxed and non-threatening with absolute authority, ‘Assembled vampires,' might as well play along with them and try not to upset them any further, ‘My name is Tempest Michaels and I am investigating the recent spate of murders associated with vampirism. It was reported that this man,' I pointed to Demedicus, ‘may be able to assist with my enquiries. His injuries are self-inflicted and not of our doing. We intend him no harm, but now that he is injured, my priority is to tend to him before continuing any line of questioning. I ask you to go about your business, but to elect one member of your party to remain here to aid Demedicus and to report back to the collective.' I didn't actually want any of them staying here, but this was my best shot at calming the situation and getting them dispersed.
The sea of faces was all fixed on me and no one was saying anything.
‘It’s a hive,’ came a voice from somewhere near the kitchen door.
‘What?’ I found myself forced to ask.
‘A group of vampires. It’s not a collective, it’s a hive,’ the voice advised.
‘No, it's not, you plonker,' argued another voice, ‘It's a nest.'
‘What? Whoever heard of a nest of vampires,' asked the first voice again. In the gloomy room, I could not make out which of them were speaking, but the heads were turning away from me and towards each other as the subject came under greater scrutiny.
‘In Buffy the Vampire Slayer, episode seven of series four, Faith tells Buffy that she has found a nest and they proceed to clean it out. It's a nest,' returned the second voice, who I could now pinpoint as a scrawny ginger vampire-wannabe with glasses and what looked like a Count from Sesame Street doll sticking out of a coat pocket.
‘Joss Whedon's ridiculous view of vampires as aggrandising master villains with plans for world domination was an insult to us all. How can you respect yourself in this company if you look to him for reference?' The new voice was from a large woman, well probably a woman, but kind of hard to tell really. She/he had purple lips and eyes, crazy black and purple hair and stood a foot taller than most of the other vampires around her/him. ‘All the greats say it is a hive of vampires and I shall give a lecture on this subject at next week's meeting.'
The discussion was quickly turning to a fight between the vampires and I wanted to leave. It was not that I was scared necessarily, although I recognised the potential danger in my current situation, it was more that the only fight you really win is the one you don’t have. The army teaches you a lot of things when you join up and there is an inevitable change to your personal characteristics, but it took me a while to realise some of the changes the experience had made to my personality. How can I explain this adequately? If you cast your mind back to school, there was probably one kid in your class whose first reaction to any situation was to just thump someone. Generally, people have a natural resistance to harming other people; they need to be wound up or motivated to break social boundaries and strike out. The army removes that natural resistance, so that like a sociopath, the need to factor in the other person's emotions and concerns is not present. At some point many years ago I saw the truth of this and recognised that I was quite able to switch from well-mannered and polite to aggressively deadly with little thought involved. Nevertheless, I would rather avoid thumping anyone today.
I looked down at Demedicus, who just shrugged up at me. He was still sat in the chair holding a rag to his head. He still looked deathly pale and was still leaking blood. I was not going to get any answers here.
‘Mrs. Cambridge, I think it best if we take Jim to hospital. The cut to his head is quite deep and will need stitches. Would you like to come with us?' I wanted to get the hell out of there before any more trouble started and I wanted to isolate Jim as the ever more unlikely murderer.
Big Ben was hovering near the door. ‘Time to go?’ he asked.
‘Yup. I think it best but watch for the idiots outside.' I turned to Demedicus and gave him a hand up. He got shakily to his feet and with my arm around him for support, we moved to the door.
‘Coming, Mrs. Cambridge?' I asked back over my shoulder. We were at the front door and ready to leave. I needed her because the blood-soaked clothes had been moved and I wanted to take them with me. I suspected it would lead to nothing, but I knew I would forever regret not checking if I failed to follow up what might stop a killer. ‘We really need to go, Mrs. Cambridge,' I called again.
‘You go ahead, love. I need to get this lot out of my house and tidy up the mess.' Mrs. Cambridge looked royally upset about the house invasion and ready to grab a broom and start whacking people. I elected to get Demedicus out of the house and off to hospital with Big Ben. Then I would come back for the blood-stained clothes and help Mrs. Cambridge disperse the crowd. This was partly out of a sense of duty to little old ladies everywhere, even those that could put a big man down with one punch, and partly because I was now getting concerned about negative publicity. How long before the cops turned up? Or the press got hold of the story?
‘Ben get the door. We get Demedicus to the car and you get him to A&E while I clear up this mess, mate. Sound good?'
‘Any plan that gets me out of here will be good enough.' Big Ben opened the door and went out but following close behind with Demedicus propped against me, it all went to hell again.
The vampire-wannabes waiting outside had not been waiting patiently it seemed. As I stepped over the front doorstep, Big Ben disappeared under a pile of them as they all rugby tackled him as one. I hardly had time to register this and react before Demedicus was ripped from my grasp and I too felt hands grabbing me.
Anyone who has ever been in a fight knows that it is probably going to end up on the ground within a few seconds if the first flurry of blows does not end it. It is not a comfortable place to be, but there are advantages to it. The weight of my attackers bore me to the concrete, but I turned as I fell to get my back against the ground and thus my limbs available for striking out. It was a sea of black all around me and any number of ineffective blows were landing on my skull, arms, and legs while I protected my face and waited a few seconds for an opening. It was hard to see where one person ended and the next began, but then I spotted a nose and whipped out my right leg. It connected just under the target and I drove my leg hard off the solid surface beneath me. Suddenly daylight streamed in where the now departed vampire-wannabe had left a hole and I caught a foot that was trying to kick my ribs. The blow hurt but I was now able to angle my body and punch the attacker in his stationary groin.
Then the sweet sound of police sirens filled the air and as heads went up, I sent a stiff hand into the throat of the now doubled over, sore-groined vampire-wannabe whose foot I still held.
I glanced over to see Big Ben's feet poking out from between someone else's legs. As the police neared, the hands clutching me let go and I was able to stand up and take in the scene. Demedicus was sitting on the garden wall accompanied by two female vampires, one of them cut quite an attractive figure in her tight leather trousers, but he seemed to be okay if a little pale still. His head was covered in blood from the head wound and it had run down over his face and onto his clothes. Big Ben was also getting up, so he was okay. I doubted his attackers were feeling too clever though. All around him were injured people, people holding themselves, people bleeding, people tending to someone else who was probably bleeding, and they were all dressed as vampires. I had a fleeting premonition that I was not going to get a great deal done today.
A police car screeched to a halt in front of the prope
rty and I could hear more coming. First out of the car was PC thinkshesfunny from yesterday morning at the river. Out of the driver's side emerged PC Hotstuff. Both PCs looked nervous as if expecting trouble and prepared to deal with it. They had their hands on their batons and were ready for action. The fight was over though, the danger gone. I stepped forward to speak with them but was immediately jostled by vampire-wannabe number one, as he tried to get to the police first. I guess his nuts had recovered. Perhaps this was a shrewd move on his part - point out the perpetrators and lay the blame early. I wondered if he would turn out to be Obsidian - the man Demedicus had called.
We were in a tiny front yard laid to lawn with a few rose bushes now bereft of flowers in the mid-Autumn. To beat Obsidian to it, I would have to trample the flowers which seemed unfair and I had faith that the truth would be revealed by Mrs. Cambridge soon enough. I let him crack on.
PC thinkshesfunny spoke first though, giving possibly Obsidian no chance to voice his side of the story. ‘Nobody move. Especially you, Mulder,' still funny then. He took a few steps to his right, never taking his eyes off the people in front of him. ‘You lot, move around to the front of the house.' I guess he had seen more of the vampire-wannabes lurking at the side of the property which was confirmed when they began trudging around to the front as instructed. Not all of them clearly though as he yelled after someone that had elected to hop the fence and head for freedom. PC thinkshesfunny leaned his head down into the radio pinned to his lapel, spoke with someone else and the lead police car coming down the hill towards us swept straight past the property to head off anyone fleeing the scene. I doubted it would be too difficult to spot them given the outfits being worn.
Two more police cars pulled up, the rearmost containing a Chief Inspector going by my limited knowledge of insignia. He stood up and turned to face us, putting his hat on as he did so.
The rest of the morning turned out to be distinctly boring. An ambulance arrived to take Jim away. Before leaving with him, the medic on board treated several minor injuries, mostly cuts, and bruises from the scuffle. Big Ben and I were handcuffed and left sitting on the garden wall for more than an hour while the Chief Inspector spoke with Mrs. Cambridge and several of the vampire wannabes.
PC Hotstuff had taken preliminary statements from us as we were handcuffed, which had at least given me a chance to explain that we had reacted to a request for our presence and that none of the property damage if there was any, nor any of the injuries sustained, were our fault. My statement was received with little emotion until I got the part where Mrs. Cambridge believed she had blood-soaked clothes that could tangibly make Jim the serial killer. At that point, she had hustled off to find the Chief Inspector, leaving us with PC thinkshesfunny. Then there was much radio squawking and in less than fifteen minutes two more police cars arrived on the scene followed by vans with SOCO looking chaps and cases full of equipment for gathering evidence.
It was not an easy task to check my watch with my hands cuffed behind my back, but I always felt more balanced if I knew the time. I stretched my arms as far to the left as possible, hooked my right hand upwards to snag my sleeve and wriggled to get a look at my watch: 1143hrs. Nearly three hours had passed since we arrived, so my thoughts were turning to lunch and to what my dogs might be doing. They would have happily spent the morning asleep but would need to go out soon.
‘What do you think will happen next?’ Big Ben asked me.
‘You will be taken downtown and spend a night in the cells while we try to work out why you started a riot in a peaceful village on a Saturday morning,' PC thinkshesfunny offered. I really didn't like him. ‘You need to learn to leave investigative work to the professionals and take up something you are better suited to.'
‘What are you doing, PC Hardacre?' Ah, the voice of tranquillity and reason. At least I hoped it was. PC Hotstuff was speaking from behind us as she left the house and walked down the garden path, ‘A word, if you please.' She came into view as she left the garden, motioned to PC thinkshesfunny and continued to the other side of the road.
I wanted to say, ‘Run along now,' but it seemed too juvenile and unnecessary. I let him go without a look in his direction.
‘Is it me or is he quite difficult to like?’ I asked Big Ben
‘Tempest my friend, he is a practicing dick bag and should be ass-banged to death in public by donkeys.' Goodness. Not much grey area there. Big Ben had little tolerance for people he didn't like.
Across the road there appeared to be an exchange which looked less than friendly. I could not hear it, but it looked like PC Hotstuff was berating PC thinkshesfunny. I liked her even more, although I doubted she was doing it for me. She finished speaking and left him across the street as she came back to us. As she approached, I tried hard to focus on ignoring the voice in my pants and his ideas about handcuffs and police uniforms.
‘It seems your story checks out. The Chief Inspector wants a word, but I expect you will be released soon.’
‘Any chance we can have our handcuffs removed?' she turned to look at Big Ben who flashed her his most winning smile. Usually, the smile is enough to get him into a girl's pants, but he must have suffered a misfire or something because it had no effect at all. Her face registered no emotion, but she shifted her focus to look behind him just as we heard male voices exiting the building.
‘PC Harper you can release them.' PC Harper then, not Hotstuff, but perhaps my name was more apt. My guess was that the voice came from the Chief Inspector which was confirmed when I turned my head to look. Big Ben and I stood and turned so that our handcuffs could be removed. ‘Gentlemen, you have had a busy morning,’ the Chief Inspector said.
‘Not really,’ said Big Ben, ‘We have been sat on this wall for most of it.’ Probably not the time for annoying the nice Chief Inspector but too late now.
He seemed not to notice the comment though as he introduced himself, ‘I am Chief Inspector Quinn.' Chief Inspector Quinn was a shade over six feet tall and modestly built, like a triathlete perhaps. I judged that he had been born locally given his accent. I guessed his age as early forties, but perhaps older given that he appeared to look after himself. There was a small scar on his nose that probably had an interesting story but could have been from a childhood accident and he had the air of patient authority that senior public officials must develop in order to survive. ‘You are being released, but you may be called for questioning later so don't leave the area. You have not committed a crime, but what you should have done is called the police,' Inspector Quinn was displeased clearly, and his voice had an angry tremble at the back of it that I felt he was doing well to suppress, ‘The suspect has a head wound that may complicate the investigation and you have contaminated the building, which may have contained key evidence. Thanks to you there are dozens of additional fingerprints that we now need to catalogue and eliminate. Mrs. Cambridge appears none the worse for her eventful morning; a tough old bird that one, but I want to make this completely clear - I don’t like what you do. You strike me as charlatans with all your paranormal nonsense. Stay away from this case, or I may find the time to investigate your business. I believe I will enjoy that more than you will.'
He was stood directly in front of me, speaking directly at me and giving additional emphasis with his eyes to show me that he meant it. This was a bust. I would not get paid for responding to Mrs. Cambridge's request, nor would I get near Jim again. If he was guilty, which to be fair seemed unlikely, I would not be involved or credited.
‘Very well, Chief Inspector. Are we free to go?’
‘Yes, Mr. Michaels.' There was no point in trying to get in the last word. He was wrong about me, about my motives and about my business, but I would only be able to prove that with actions.
‘Let’s grab our gear and get out of here, Ben.’ I hated being on the losing end. Who does? I was going to be in a crappy mood for a while, but just as I turned to go, PC Hotstuff winked at me and gave me just a little smile. It was f
leeting, but I didn’t imagine it. I paused to see if there was more, but she turned her head away to speak with a colleague and was already walking away.
After Demedicus. Saturday, September 25th 1257hrs
We travelled home in silence, each thinking our own thoughts. I should be angry about what had happened, not that being angry was constructive, but I felt it was a natural reaction. Instead, I was thinking about PC Harper. She was very attractive that was for sure. Mr. Wriggly had all kinds of activities planned but ignoring that I had to wonder now if she had smiled at me, or at Big Ben. He had been laying the charm on thick and it rarely failed. I was interested in her from a basic attraction level, nothing more. Acknowledging that allowed my thoughts to move on to more pressing subjects like what to do next with the case. Before I could frame my next thought, Big Ben broke the silence.
‘It’s not my fault they picked a fight with me. I was merely defending myself.’ It was the same explanation he had given to the police. Their questioning had largely corroborated this. He had thumped several bonkers vampire-wannabes, and this constituted a good morning for him. ‘I like hitting people. Is that wrong?’ he asked from the passenger seat as we had driven home. He looked across at me to gauge my opinion.
‘I think there is a certain balance brought to the universe when the righteous hand out a well-deserved slap, but I worry that this morning was not quite a case of that. People should have the right to dress as vampires and be as weird as they choose to. That kind of freedom was one of the things the army had us fight for. This morning I think they were genuinely convinced we were the bad guys and they were fighting on the righteous side.' Big Ben thought about that for a moment.
