Alex had actually made up her mind about Wilson some
days ago. All that was needed now; was opportunity. She relaxed in her
favourite armchair by the fireplace and flicked through the brown paper file
that ‘little Ivan’ the Messenger had delivered for Jericho. She slowly sipped
her brandy and read with some interest about the forthcoming assignment.
She peered over the top of the file and saw Mr. Parker
sprawled across the coffee table, cleaning his front paws. “This sounds quite
interesting Mr. Parker, we could have a trip to New York in the 1970’s. Well,
1972 to be exact, investigating some strange happenings in a city subway
station.”
She leaned across and stroked the big cat with some
affection; “That will make Wilson happy, going back to his glory days as a
Detective with the NYPD.” A naughty thought popped into her head and she
actually giggled a little. “If Wilson and I could get some time together –
alone for once – I believe I could pull it off.” She slumped back in the chair
and placed the file down. Then ran her hands around her breasts and imagined
his big hands cupping a tit and pushing it into his warm, wet mouth with his
tongue running across her erect nipple.
She was having some delicious thoughts about what would
follow that act when the study door swung open and the man himself wandered in.
He was clutching a paperback novel and he grinned at Alex, who dropped her
hands immediately. “For once, you actually recommended a book that was really
good. I loved it. I didn’t think a Frenchman could have such imagination;
submarines before they were even thought of and a bloody big octopus –
marvellous.” He dropped into the
armchair opposite and grinned.
“What’s in the report?” He asked, giving the book to
Mr. Parker to play with on the coffee table.
“Anything that we may find interesting?” He added, stretching his legs
out and relaxing. Alex stirred in her seat and smiled; “Do you want a brandy?”
She asked and rose from the chair and headed for the tray of glasses and brandy
bottle that Mr. Harris had placed there earlier. Wilson nodded; “Thanks baby
sister.”
Alex filled a glass and walked back; handing Wilson the
brandy. “You may find this assignment interesting; its back to New York in
1972.” She smiled again, slowly resuming her seat. She crossed her legs and straightened
her long dress, picking up her own glass of brandy. “Back to your glory days.”
Wilson chuckled; “I wouldn’t call them glory days – I
was killed, if you remember.” He sipped his brandy and thought about Alex’s
long slender legs, under that crappy Edwardian dress and he sneaked a glance at
those magnificent tits; hidden under that crisp white blouse. He licked his
lips and sipped his brandy again. His thoughts recalled Alex dancing naked
around that old tree stump at Hobbs Wood; those large and perfect tits bouncing
about – topped with dark erect nipples. He took a little breath, when he
remembered the sight of her shaven fanny, coming open and then closing, as she
squatted and opened her legs to lure the fucking demon out of its hiding
place.
Then, laying on her front and pushing her delightful
arse in the air and pulling her cheeks apart. He almost groaned, as he
remembered catching a glimpse of her bum hole being opened; what a fucking
invitation, little wonder that demon simply could not resist – what a fucking gorgeous sight! [See the episode ‘Alexandra and the Archaeologists.']
The memory of those few minutes haunted his sleep and
clouded his thoughts when awake. He finished his brandy and tried to drive such
memories away – but he couldn’t – no matter how hard he tried. The sight of her
vagina’s beautiful full lips; pink and clearly moist, simply would not depart
his thoughts. He smiled at her and visualised her sitting naked, opposite him
on that damn armchair; crossing and uncrossing her legs just for him.
“Penny for your thoughts.” She smiled at him, as she
caught the look upon the big man’s face and her own thoughts were about his
magnificent, large black cock. They both chuckled, as if they knew each other’s
erotic thoughts.
“Do you want a refill?” She asked and he nodded; yes.
He watched intently as she walked to the drinks tray again. Her perfect peach
arse seemed to hypnotise him and he watched the swing of her hips with real
passion. She looked over her shoulder and gave a little – almost knowing –
smile. “Not a penny, but a bloody pound.” Alex actually giggled a little and
bent over the tray, pouring another couple of brandies. She knew that his eyes
were fixed firmly on her bum and she smoothed the back of her dress; so that he
could get a better view.
“Apparently, it all centres’ around a subway station
that is closed and under refurbishment; 153rd North Street Station, I
believe.” She could feel the big man
watching her and that made her smile; maybe I should drop him a little hint
about what’s on offer. But he’s already seen me stark naked, so it would have
to be something a little erotic and naughty – but what? That thought really did
make her happy and she walked back with their drinks.
They sat opposite each other; talking softly about what
the mission could entail. “I would have to find an appropriate costume for the
period, but you could go just as you are.” Alex laughed, then added; “You could
give me some advice on that front, after all, you must have noticed what girls
were wearing back then. So tell me what I should wear.” Wilson took a little
breath and grinned.
“Well, if you were my white bitch and I was taking you
up town. You would be wearing a real short skirt with bare legs and heels. A
low cut top with no bra - a little black leather jacket and matching bag. Your
hair would be tied with a ribbon and around your neck would be a black collar;
meaning your my bitch.” He really did smile, at the thought of Alex dressed
like a black man’s bitch; he sipped his brandy with some joy.
Alex nodded; “Well, l if you think such an outfit would
be appropriate, I would wear it. But what panties would I be wearing? – For the
sake of authenticity, of course.” Wilson shrugged his shoulders; “Little white
cotton panties, they were always a favourite of mine. So, if you’re pretending
to be my bitch, you’d certainly be wearing them.” He could feel a slight shift
in his cock – Jesus, he thought, she’s giving me an erection, just by talking
about her damn panties; never mind seeing them, or better still, slowly pulling
them off. He swallowed down his brandy and moved awkwardly in his chair, his
swelling cock could be a real problem.
He was saved by Owen bouncing into the room; followed
by a serious looking Jericho, who picked up the file and read it quite slowly.
Owen poured himself a drink and asked if anyone else wanted one. Jericho
muttered a ‘yes please’ and dropped into the chair that Alex had vacated. She stretched
by the fire and accepted a refill from Owen. Wilson watched her closely. Her
gentle movements, pushing out those wonderful tits and peach shaped arse, he
took the brandy from Owen without comment.
Jericho coughed and everyone turned to him; “According
to newspaper and television reports coming out of the city in 1972, several
people have complained that they saw strange figures about the empty – its
being repaired – 153rd North Street Station in the city. It's been derelict for years. One report is particularly
interesting for us, it says that a certain construction worker, a Mr. Monroe Jones actually saw a women in strange old fashioned clothing, walk straight
through a wall opposite him; he dropped everything and ran for it.”
Everyone chuckled; Earth bound spirits – usually the
souls of people who had died and weren't too happy about it and refused to accompany their collectors
– for whatever reason. “Why would they be congregating in an old subway
station?” Owen asked and stroked Mr. Parker, who threw the book Wilson had
given him and kicked it away with his back legs. Owen also stared at the stretching
Alex and really did smile; she was a very good friend to him – a very good
friend. He slumped in the chair opposite where she stood; talking to Jericho
and remembered that quiet afternoon with great fondness and pleasure.
“Maybe all the disturbance of the station has unearthed
something that affects them?” Alex offered her opinion and caught the look on Owens’s
face, as he stared at her; smiling and remembering. He would certainly hold Alex to her promise.
2. SOLOMON COHEN'S HOTEL, JULY 1972, BROOKLYN NYC.
"The room's at
the back so it's quiet - very little street noise - and the room's here are
clean and well furnished. Solomon does a lot of good trade with Jewish businessmen and so he keeps
the place up to a good standard." Wilson dangled the key and they walked
to the elevator after signing in. The small lift was ‘out of order’, but
the pair just laughed about it and almost ran up the stairs to the fourth
floor and their ‘suite’. They went past another big black man slowly walking
down, smoking a giant reefer and wearing a bright red cowboy hat and a vivid
yellow sheepskin coat. He tipped his hat to Wilson and smiled broadly, but said
nothing. Wilson stopped and watched him disappear down the stairs. “Fuck! That’s
the bloody ‘Loan Ranger’ and he knows me. Shit!” They started back up the stairs and Alex
had to ask about the man’s nickname: was it because of his cowboy hat and coat?
Wilson shook his head; “No my sweet, he’s called the ‘Loan Ranger’ because he’s
a fucking loan shark who operates at 50% interest. If you don’t repay, his boys
take it out of your knees at first, then if you still don’t cough up, he has a
man called ‘Mincer’ take a chain saw to what’s left. But – apparently – he’s
good to his mother!”
That made
Alex laugh: he smiled at Alex in her 1970's costume - which was quite respectable - and the pair found Room17 on the fourth floor. "I thought a 'midi-dress' and blouse would be fine with these heels." she explained as Wilson quickly unlocked the door, adding; "Besides, I couldn't wear a short dress with the bloody underwear I'm wearing." Alex giggled a little and Wilson really smiled in happy anticipation. He absolutely loved being back in New York City in 1972 and on his old stomping grounds. All he had to do was avoid bumping into himself or worse, into his wife or her
sister!
He placed the small suitcase down and headed for the mini-bar and found two miniature bottles of brandy and a couple of clean glasses. Alex sat on the huge 'King-sized' bed and bounced up and down for a few seconds; it felt good. He handed her a glass and raised his own; "To Brooklyn." he muttered and Alex returned the salute saying; "And for what we are about to receive." They both chuckled and sipped their drinks. Alex placed her's on the bedside cabinet and stood. Wilson watched her carefully with a spreading smile. Alex slowly removed her blouse and skirt to reveal a black Basque that simply couldn't restrain her large breasts and her big nipples spilled out over the top. She was wearing sheer black silk stockings and suspender belt with tiny 'see-through' lace panties. She gave Wilson a twirl, bending over to show her magnificent peach shaped bum to him.
Wilson placed his empty glass down and gathered her to him and they kissed passionately for some minutes. Then Alex pulled off his jacket, shirt and tie while he ran his hands over her body. She unbuttoned his bright coloured 'flared' trousers and snapped open his belt. They dropped to the floor and her hands went straight into his shorts and found what she wanted. She eased his big erecting cock out and caressed it gently. "I know what you would like." she whispered and knelt down, easing the monster into her mouth. She worked his throbbing shaft with her lips and tongue, pushing her soft wet mouth down upon his erection with some skill. He stoked her hair gently and groaned a little with sheer pleasure: for some reason he didn't feel guilty about his wife and put that down to being actually dead these days!
Alex slipped onto the bed and lay on her back; legs open, slowly removing her Basque and Wilson crept between those long legs and gently pulled down those little black panties. His mouth and fingers went straight on her already wet vagina and with some skill, worked on her clitoris as she groaned stroking his head and whispering encouragement; not that the big man needed any! Alex reached to the bedside table and pulled her handbag down; fumbling inside and finding the 'KY' jelly. She knew damn well that she would need plenty of the magic potion to cope with Wilson's big cock. He knelt over her as she smeared her fanny and his cock with the jelly. He then mounted her and pushed his cock into her willing cunt; gently at first and then started to thrust with some determination and joy. She gripped his shoulders and said softy; "Fuck me hard like a black man's whore." He chuckled and replied; "I can sure do that." And did.
Wilson fucked her hard and fast causing Alex to have a couple of little orgasm's quickly. Their mouths came to together and the passion exploded between the two. They were soon rolling about the bed, fucking in various positions and when Alex was astride him riding like a Rodeo rider, her first big orgasm came. It was so powerful that her legs shook and she screamed with sexual passion, really bouncing up and down. Wilson now gripped her swinging breasts and held on as she fucked him hard. Alex had a couple more -much smaller - spurts and Wilson thrusted upwards, cussing a little as he finally came inside of her. Alex's mouth found his and they lay kissing with some real passion. They were still locked together when the bedside phone buzzed. Wilson reached over and answered it as Alex kissed his neck and shoulders; he spoke softly to the caller for about two minutes and replaced the receiver. He embraced Alex again and said quietly; "That was the receptionist; he says that witness - Monroe Jones - called and said we could call around this evening after he finishes the afternoon shift. I know the address." Alex sighed and stroked his face; "Yes, but we do have time for some more, don't we?" Wilson just grinned and turned her gently onto her back, pulling open her legs as she giggled. "Damn right we do." was all the big man said.
They fucked for another half hour and both lay exhausted on the bed, caressing each other and kissing. Their conversions were just whispers and Wilson checked his watch; "Let's grab a shower and get on with the job." Alex nodded and smiled; "I thought we just did." They both chuckled and kissed passionately some more before - reluctantly - departing for the bathroom to share a well earned shower.
3. MONROE JONES APPARTMENT - PART 1.
Alex was wearing a real short skirt with bare legs and heels. A low cut top with no bra and a little black leather jacket and matching bag. Her hair was tied with a ribbon and around her neck was a black lace collar; meaning she was Wilson's white bitch or 'sno-bunny'. She had followed Wilson's advice to the letter and he really appreciated it. They walked up two flights of stairs with Alex a few steps in front so that Wilson could really, really appreciate her outfit. He chuckled; "Sweet Jesus Alex; if those little white panties were any smaller they would be a finger plaster." She just looked over her shoulder and smiled.
Wilson banged on the apartment door and they both could hear music coming from behind it. "Monroe has taste; that's Jimi Hendrix's 'Who know's' playing." He said as the door was pulled open. Alex and Wilson stared, then smiled, refraining from laughing outright. The well built black man was dressed in a superb white cocktail dress with all the accessories including white heels. He smiled at the pair; "I like to dress comfortably in the evenings after finishing work for the day. Do come in and have a drink. What would you like I have quite a bar." He gestured for them to enter and they did; still smiling. As Monroe fixed them drinks; Wilson whispered to Alex; "I've dealt with Monroe before; he's a Drag-Queen who does turns at the Apollo Theatre in Harlem and he has quite a following." Alex nodded looking around the incredibly glamorous apartment which was furnished like - in her modest opinion - a Paris brothel! But she said it was lovely when asked by Monroe as he handed around the drinks.
Alex and Wilson sat on the huge pink, fur covered sofa and sipped their brandies. Monroe confessed he had made himself a 'Manhattan' cocktail. He sipped it with some grace and sat very lady-like on the big pink armchair. Wilson asked him about the subway ghost and Monroe happily recounted his tale of seeing the woman dressed in 1920's clothing disappearing through a solid wall, right in front of him. "I nearly wet my panties because I know fashion and she was dressed like a 'flapper' from the 1920's." He spoke quietly between sips of his large cocktail. He was quite amusing with little 'one-liners' and near the knuckle jokes [for 1972] especially about President Nixon. He re-filled their glasses and Alex asked where the bathroom was; she really needed to pee. He pointed to a vivid red door marked 'LADIES?' and smiled. "Straight in there darling and don't mind Honey Bunny; she's crashed out in the bath."
Alex noticed another door - painted jungle green - was marked with a sign declaring 'CHARLIES ROOM'. Like a lot of New Yorkers, Monroe must share his apartment to help pay the rent she mused and pushed into the bathroom.
"My God Wilson darling where did you get her from? She's absolutely gorgeous and does your wife know about her?" Monroe asked Wilson quietly and Wilson just smiled, explaining that Alex was his partner for this operation; Detective Alex Cappanni from the 23rd precinct. Monroe grinned and rolled his eyes; "Of course darling. If Lizzie [Wilson's wife] believes that, then so do I!" Wilson just chuckled at that and finished his drink. Monroe leapt up and headed for the kitchen/bar to fetch more. Alex re-joined Wilson and spoke softly; "There's a stark naked young woman laying in the bath - probably been taking something more than aspirin - covered in feathers; the bloody things are everywhere, she must have busted open a couple of pillows." Wilson nodded; "Honey Bunny is a part time actress and prostitute who works the hotels around here. Her tricks are normally middle aged white business men and her most popular costume is a Cheerleader. She's OK actually, but does smoke a lot of weed and pops some pretty interesting pills." Alex sat and smiled; "You really did have an interesting career, didn't you?" That made Wilson laugh and they were joined by Monroe with more drinks.
They sat talking and drinking until the bathroom door opened and 'Honey bunny' wandered out - still stark naked and with a few feathers in her hair - she smiled at everyone and without a word went in the kitchen. Alex now noticed the thin red stripes across the girls buttocks and Monroe lowered his voice; "One of her best paying and regular tricks likes to cane her on occasion; usually makes her dress in his teenage daughter's cast-offs. He makes her piss on him too. I understand he works on Wall Street."
'Honey-Bunny' joined them clutching a huge glass of Bourbon and coke and sat cross legged on the floor and smiled at everyone again. Finally she spoke; "I know him, he's a cop and he's alright according to Fingers and the Bear. But that is some high class white hooker he has there." She spoke directly to Alex; "I bet you make fifty or sixty dollars a turn don't you?" Alex just smiled as Wilson explained - again - that Alex was also a detective. 'Honey-Bunny' just laughed and swigged her drink with gusto; "Yeah and I'm President Nixon's bit on the side." Alex said nothing and finished her drink, tapping Wilson's leg as a signal they should go; he had promised to take her to a Disco-club.
Monroe showed them out, insisting they do drop in anytime and pushed several tickets to his show at the Apollo into Wilson's hand. He kissed Alex on the cheek and whispered; "My you are lucky girl. I've heard he's built like a donkey and knows how to use it." Alex smiled and thanked him for his hospitality. Wilson waved down a yellow cab and told the driver to head for the 'Roller-Disco'. He smiled at Alex; "I do hope you can roller skate and dance at the same time." She eased into the cab giving him another close up of her 'sticking plaster' panties and said; "You'll be surprised at what I can do." He climbed in and placed a kiss on her head; "Believe me I know what you can do." The cab pulled away as the dark was closing in and Brooklyn's night life was starting to wake up.
They made it back to the hotel just before midnight and the Night-Porter let them in and Wilson slipped him a couple of dollars for his trouble. They dived into their room, pulling each others clothes off almost in a frenzy and were soon naked and fucking on the bed and the floor. Wilson whispered to Alex and she groaned; "Bloody men. But you'll have to take care, even my bloody bum hole isn't that big."
Alex was bent over the big armchair with her knees on the seat and both hands gripping the back. Wilson had his big hands on her shoulders and his big cock pushed into her well lubricated bum hole. He was thrusting gently, but deep and slow. He was groaning with real pleasure; if he was a cat he would be purring right now. Alex took little deep breaths as she felt every inch of his cock pushing into her back passage. "What is it with bloody men and bum love?" she asked quietly between almost gritted teeth. Wilson just chuckled and started to thrust with a little more speed. "I'm in heaven darling, so keep bloody still while I enjoy every inch of your arse."
He fucked her for almost twenty minutes before he came in her arse and then he sat on the chair; still buried in Alex's backside and she pushed an arm around his neck and they managed to kiss. She stared down between her legs at the big black cock up her arse and with her other hand rubbed her fanny vigorously, soon joined by Wilson's hand and she climaxed groaning loudly. They remained together for some minutes, kissing and whispering, then separated and collapsed on the bed and slept well.
4. “I DON’T BELIEVE IN NO GHOSTS……”
Maurice
‘Mo’ Breckenridge pushed his hard hat back and took a long
draw on his cigarette and waved his hand down the steps of the South Entrance
of 153rd North Street Subway station; “Get those silly buggers back down there!
How the hell can I call the Office and tell bloody Mister Taylor that the
bloody crew has walked
off site because they saw a bloody ghost! I’m not making that call, we’re
already five days behind schedule, now get the lazy buggers out the vans and
back down there!” The small man gripped his hard hat with both hands and tried
to smile; “I’ve told them that Mo and they just told me to fuck off…. I think you
should speak to them on this one. Sorry.”
Mo
grunted and threw his cigarette down and patted little Derek on the shoulder;
“Ok my old friend. I will, now get that cement lorry backed up to the Shute; if
we don’t pour this afternoon, we will be in the shit good and proper.” Little
Derek smiled and was gone. Mo straightened his jacket and lit another
cigarette, then headed for the two vans parked outside the Italian café. He
wasn’t happy to find the vans empty and his crew sitting in the coffee shop.
“Fuck it.” Was all he said and strode into the café causing all conversation to
stop.
The
café owner had to ask him to moderate his language because there were ladies
present, but Mo’s men got the message alright. Back to work or their wages
docked. Slowly and very reluctantly they left the café and walked back to the
derelict subway station entrance. Little Derek shepherded them back down the
stairs and they gathered on the old South platform. Mo walked back to his
Plymouth and eased in, leaving the door open. He removed his hat and jacket,
cursing this wonderfully clear but hot day. He lit another cigarette and
watched the traffic passing slowly.
He
pulled the blueprints from his battered old briefcase and stared at them. 153rd
North Street Subway station had closed in 1929 after the new 14th West Avenue
Subway Station opened and lay closed and unvisited since. Well; except for the
odd inspection Team from City Hall. It had been one of those teams that found
the damage to the South platform and the disused offices.
Serious damage warranting immediate action and thus the Cities Emergency
Building Team was on scene. The Engineer in charge was Frank Taylor and he was
a hard task master. Well, he was an utter bastard actually, but Mo seemed to
get on with him.
“Fucking
ghosts, I don’t believe in bloody ghosts.” He muttered to
himself and leaned back in his seat and then noticed the old patrolman Sean
Finlay walking towards him. He had known the cop for at least fifteen years. He
held up a hand and shouted.
“Sean! What’s up man?” Sean had his hat off,
wiping his brow and neck. He sauntered over and smiled. “How are your ghosts
getting on Mo my friend?” and chuckled shoving his hat back on and leaned against
the car door. Mo just sighed and then smiled; “You know what those fuckers are
like, they would down tools if a mouse ran up their trouser leg.” Sean chuckled
again; “So you haven’t heard the news about the experts coming from Boston
University. Real experts my friend and they will tackle your ghost problem for you!”
Mo
groaned and didn’t smile; that’s all he needed now; bloody ghost hunters from a
bloody university! He nodded; “Finding them two dead vagrants down there has
fucked up all my schedules. Now my moronic workmen are seeing fucking ghosts.
That’s all I bloody need. Do we know what killed the mangy old bastards?” Sean
shrugged his shoulders; “I knew both of them; they had been together for years
around here. Both liked paint stripper and Budweiser cocktails, so I dare say
that didn’t help. But I do feel kind of sorry for them; one was an ex-Ranger
who landed at Normandy and that fucked his head up apparently and the other was
some kind of disgraced bank clerk who did time up In Rochester, back in the
fifties, lost all his family and friends and couldn’t get any kind of work.
They would beg around here to do odd jobs to pay for cigarettes and booze.
There was no real harm in either of them. Still can’t fathom why anyone would
want to murder the poor pair of old bastards!”
He
stood back from the door and tipped his hat back, adding; “Apparently they will
be here tomorrow and here’s the worse bit; three of them are limey’s including
the professor in charge and one’s a bloody woman.” He smiled broadly at his
friends face; Mo didn’t like anyone who wasn’t American and he certainly didn’t
like women in positions of authority. “How the fuck can you be a professor of
something that don’t exist? That doesn’t make any fucking
sense. Shit, what a pile of crap.” Mo said and threw his cigarette butt down.
Sean just smiled and walked off towards the Italian café; it was time for a
coffee and a doughnut: he would have disagreed with Mo over the existence of
ghosts but kept that experience to himself. He had tried to tell people about
it but soon
got fed up with the laughter and piss taking; so now he said little about the
incident which happened just days after he left the Police Academy and was
posted to his first patrol which was usually on foot in those days. Part of his
foot patrol covered the derelict streets of ‘Little Italy’ now empty and closed
down awaiting further redevelopment. He passed a dark and gloomy alley when a figure
caught his eye outside a boarded up Italian ice cream parlour. Young Sean stood
in shock and awe as he watched the figure fall to the floor, as if fighting
some invisible foe. Sean was already running to help when he realized what or
rather who the figure appeared to be: the helmet and stick rolling on the floor
and the smart uniform told Sean this was a New York patrolman from years ago.
In fact, he had seen such figures in photographs at his precinct and knew that
uniform was worm by New York’s finest before the sodding First World War!
Suddenly
Sean found himself in an empty deserted alley outside a derelict shop named
‘Galina’s Ice Cream Parlour’. Still in a state of shock Sean continued on his
patrol believing he had some kind of dream while a wake! It wasn’t until a few
days later, when helping out around the station he garnered enough courage to
ask ‘old Crabby’ the twenty-three year veteran about the alley and the ice
cream parlour. Patrolman Crabby sat sipping his sugar filled black coffee in
the Precinct canteen and nodded to himself a few times at the mention of the
street and shop.
“Christ!
That would be where a young patrolman, some kid called Gafferty or Rafferty was
killed by a couple of boys robbing the damn ice-cream parlour for dimes and
nickels! He disturbed them and the younger boy panicked; sticking a bloody big
fucking knife he took from his mum’s kitchen, into the young cop, causing a
fatal wound and the young cop died there and then. If I do remember the story
right it was just before the First World War and all the lefties and do-gooders
petitioned the State Governor to stop their execution by hanging because of
their age. I think they were released in the early fifties, or rather one was:
the other had died whilst in prison.” He finished his coffee and jerked a thumb
at the canteen door; “I think there’s a photograph of him somewhere on the main
staircase, along with quite a few others
who have died on duty in this Precinct area since the station opened back in
1890. Too fucking many if you ask me.”
The
pair rose and left the canteen heading back to Records where Crabby now spent
his time. The young new copper walked behind his colleague with a new and
profound view of life and death. He soon stopped telling his tale because of
the reactions he received and now as he sat in the Italian café sipping coffee
and enjoying his doughnut, a little wry smile appeared on his face.
Mo
made his way back to the subway station and descended into the cool dim
station. He grunted with satisfaction as the cement pour was under way and
stared up at the fantastic roof murals; now they did impress him. They showed
famous monuments of New York City; well famous before 1929. He really admired
the craftsmanship in them. “Fucking real builders back in the day; not like the
fucking cowboys and so-called architects of today who are mostly fucking
faggots anyway.” He muttered to himself and lit yet another cigarette. That’s
when he saw the two men standing on the tracks by the tunnel entrance to the
platform. He watched as they threw down their shovels and turned, running like
hell towards the platform. They scrambled up the platform edge screaming;
“There’s a fucking train coming!” Mo watched in utter disbelieve and horror as
the carriages flashed past him and the two men groveling on the platform floor.
There was no sound whatsoever and the ‘train’ passed down the tracks and quickly
disappeared south in an instance.
There
was absolute silence for a second or two and then a dozen men ran up the
station stairs; some screaming and shouting, tools clattering down the steps
followed by hard hats.
Unsurprisingly,
Mo was one of them. He had changed his mind about ghosts.
5. “WHO YOU GONNA CALL?”
‘Mo’ Breckenridge sat
sweating and lit another cigarette; this wasn’t going to be pleasant. He stared
through the glass door of Frank Taylor’s office and saw the big man sitting at
his cluttered desk; phone in one hand and huge cigar in the other. Mavis – the
secretary – handed Mo a cup of coffee and whispered; “He’s been on the phone to
the Mayor’s Office twice this morning already. Apparently the Mayor is having
kittens about all this; the press is all over the story.” She walked back to
her desk and continued typing and the keys hitting the ribbon and paper seemed
to annoy Mo.
He sipped his coffee
and jumped a little when Mavis’s phone rang. She answered it and said ‘Yes’ a
couple of times and placed the receiver down. She actually managed a small
smile; “They’re here Mo.” Was all she said and eased from her chair and walked
to the door and opened it, then stood waiting. Mo stood slowly and wiped his
face and neck with a gaudy orange hankie. He stared past Mavis into the
corridor and saw the lift doors open; five people slowly walked from the lift,
heading towards him and Mavis.
One man he knew was
Phil DeVine; from the City’s Building Works Department. He was actually smiling
and talking with a very well dressed younger man. Mo then noticed the big black
man – again, in an expensive suit – and thought he looked like a cop. The other
younger man looked like a faggot and Mo sighed; they get everywhere! He then
saw the woman walking at the rear and Mo really smiled – for the first time in
days – she was an absolute stunner in a dark mini-dress with matching shoes and little hat. She could
easily walk a ‘catwalk’ with that body and beautiful face; so what the fuck was
she wasting her time chasing ghosts for? He straightened his tie and wiped his
face again. Mavis showed them in and offered coffee’s all round. Phil knocked
on Frank’s door and stuck his head in. “That team from the Dean’s office at
Boston University are here Frank.” He walked back and sat on the edge of
Mavis’s desk and admired the lady from Boston.
Frank Taylor appeared
in the doorway and stared at his visitors. “Which of you is Professor Tibbs?”
he asked, sucking on his cigar and Jericho held out his hand and introduced
himself and his team. Frank crushed his hand and smiled; cigar gripped between
his teeth. “I’m glad to meet you prof and I really hope you can fucking help; I’m
nine days behind schedule and up to my arse in fucking ghosts. The Mayor is
crawling up my butt and I have newspapers popping out of every hole that ain’t
already occupied!”
Jericho rubbed his
hand and managed a smile; “Thank you Frank. That was quite a succinct appraisal
of the situation.” Owen couldn’t stifle a little giggle and got a strange look
from Mo who shrugged his shoulders; I was right about him, another fucking
queer. Frank ushered everyone into his much bigger office and turned up the air
conditioning. Like Mo and Phil; he couldn’t take his eyes off Alex; who he
offered a chair immediately and watched – almost memorized – as she sat so
gracefully and ladylike despite the short skirt. He noticed her bare legs and
smiled; no fucking pantyhose, so just a little scrap of cotton covering
heaven’s gateway. Phil speaking drew his reluctant attention back to the meeting.
“I’ve authorized the
professor and his team full access to the old station for them and their
equipment. They’re keen to get down there. Apparently they will be joined by a
certain Father Adams from the Cardinals office in Boston. He’s another expert on
these matters and if the Church is involved, then we’re in good hands.” Phil
spoke to the group, but stared at Alex’s long bare legs the whole time. Like
Frank he wasn’t too subtle about showing his appreciation of the female form.
The meeting broke up
and Frank stopped Alex as she was last to leave and suggested a drink at a
little Irish bar he knew. She just smiled at him and joined the team heading in
silence to the lift.
The city had placed a
hire car – a station wagon – at their disposal and use. Wilson
would be the driver; he obviously knew the city well. The team picked up the
car and threw their baggage in and headed for their hotel which was just a
block down from the old subway station. Owen suggested they walk from the hotel
and Wilson just sighed; “Walk from the hotel if you wish my baby brother; but
you may not reach the subway station in one piece.” He chuckled and the ‘ghost
busters’ drove to the ‘Plaza Hotel’ and booked in. Wilson parked the car in the
basement parking area and chatted with the two ‘brothers’ who ran the place.
Alex noticed some dollar bills were handed over and she knew that parking was
free for guests.
She asked him about
that; “Well, the brothers believe I’m some rich black dude from Boston and
they’re now sweet and will take good care of the car. Their friends can steal
someone’s car that isn’t as generous as me.” He grinned and Alex pushed her arm
through his and they walked into reception and found Jericho was already
signing for keys and arranging the luggage to be taken to their rooms. He
smiled broadly; “Father Adam’s should be here by this afternoon.” Everyone
smiled at that; they all liked the old priest. [See the episode ‘Sister Sarah dreams of demons’ Series 2 –
Episode: 7. Of The Temporal Detectives series of books.]
Jericho and Alex had
their own room each and Wilson shared with Owen. They were on floor twelve and
Jericho would share with Father Adam’s when he turned up. Unusually, he didn’t
mind sharing with his old friend. He respected the old priest and was actually
looking forward to the conversations the pair would have. After they settled in
their rooms; they met up in the hotel restaurant for lunch. It was excellent
and Owen had two helpings of everything ordered. After lunch they would meet up with Mo at the
haunted station.
Alex pointed out that
her door had two ‘Chubb’ locks and two heavy duty chains. She had also noticed
that there was a red ‘panic’ button by the bed’s headboard. “They take guest
security here quite seriously.” She told the others and Wilson chuckled; “They
sure do; a few years ago they had some guests murdered by burglars and the law
suit nearly broke the place.” Strangely enough that didn’t make Alex too happy!
Jericho called the
briefing to order and outlined what was being reported about the old station.
“The two vagrants were found dead by Mo’s workmen
last week and they appeared to have died of heart attacks. Both were in really
poor health and had received no medical care for their conditions, so that
wasn’t too strange. But what the living didn’t realize was that no souls were
collected, they are missing souls. The Pathologist who dealt with them believed
some kind of immense shock caused the pair’s demise. They basically saw
something that scared them to death!” Wilson flicked through his notebook and
grunted; “Demon Ingress reports that no demons were recorded in this area at
the time of their departures. So it has to be just the earth bound spirits that
apparently infest the place. One may have gone poltergeist.”
Owen chuckled; “What
about the bloody ghost train that was seen by nearly a dozen workmen, including
Mo Breckenridge who admitted to being a lifelong skeptic about the
supernatural. Now a manifestation of that strength is really unusual without
demonic presence.” Everyone nodded their agreement with Owens’s deduction.
Jericho continued; “The workman downed tools after seeing two men, one in an
old style suit and the other in an old combat uniform cross the platform and
walk straight through a wall. Now our two vagrants had been a banker and a
soldier. Bit of a co-incidence, don’t you think?”
Alex sipped her
coffee and said quietly; “If that was the souls of the two vagrants, then
someone or something is holding their souls in that place. normally only a
demon could do that, but we know that there was no demonic activity about the
place. That’s really strange.” Jericho finished his coffee and tapped the cup
with a finger; “Then we’re left with only one option in this case; there must
be a witches Coven operating around here under a real Warlock, a warlock with real
powers granted by the Dark Prince himself. That makes him a really dangerous
foe and he certainly wouldn’t show up on Demon Ingresses records of movement.
We have to find him and strip him of those powers. That’s where Father Adam’s
will come in; he knows how to deal with such a man. Good human against bad
human.”
Alex actually
chuckled at the look on Wilson’s and Owens’s faces. “Come on you two! You know
that our Inspector is always several steps ahead of us in all our cases. He
already summoned the good Father before we even arrived.” She raised her coffee
cup to Jericho and smiled broadly; “Yet again Sir; our respect.” Both Wilson
and Owen muttered their agreement with her salute.
6. “LISTEN. I SMELL
SOMETHING.”
“I’ll stay up here
thank you very much.” Mo politely declined the team’s invitation to show
them about the old station and so they descended down the worn steps
into 153rd North Street Subway station. They stood on the South
Platform and everyone admired the beautiful ceiling murals. Owen consulted his
mirror and pointed towards a rusted metal door by the North bound tunnel
entrance. “That leads up to some offices and stores, staff restroom and the
like.” He wandered over and stared at the heavy door with Alex.
Wilson climbed down
and stood on the tracks and shone his mirror down the derelict tunnel. He
smiled at the discarded shovels and hard hats lying between the rails. “This
must be where Mo’s men first saw the bloody ghost train coming at them.” The
tunnel twisted a little left and right and disappeared into darkness. Jericho
stood by the edge and consulted his mirror; “According to my mirror there are
no less than five uncollected souls around the place.” He saw Owen and Alex
gesturing to him.
“This door has been
opened recently; it could have been Mo’s men.” Owen shouted over and he and
Alex managed to pull the door open. Owen shone his mirror down the metal stairs
and saw several footprints in the dirt and dust. “Yep, someone’s been down here
recently.” That’s when he stopped and wiped his face. He stood still and held
up a hand; “Listen. I smell something.” Alex just sighed and peered down the
staircase. She held a hand over her mouth for a few seconds. “Jericho, you best
get over here because I think there’s a human heart and other bits decomposing
at the foot of these stairs.” Jericho didn’t argue how she knew that; she was a
doctor after all.
He helped Wilson back
onto the platform and they joined Owen and Alex by the old door. Owen tapped
his mirror; “They use to belong to a certain Harold Polanski who died six days
ago and is a missing soul. His death was unscheduled and there’s been no
temporal team assigned to it yet, despite the Collector calling it in.” He
looked up from his mirror and then sighed; “Correct that. Operations have just
assigned us the case!”
“Do a body search and
find the rest of him.” Was all Jericho said and consulted his own mirror. Owen
almost smiled; “He’s down here somewhere in one
of the rooms. Well, the rest of him I mean.” Alex grabbed the stair rail and
started to descend with Owen close behind. Jericho and Wilson followed. They
found the late Harold Polanski in the old canteen/restroom. His decomposing
corpse lay on a big metal table; there were black candles and black sheets
scattered about the floor and footprints everywhere in the dust. A bucket
caught Alex’s eye and she peered in; “I think his stomach and other organs
including his penis are dumped in this.”
Jericho sighed; “Full
on Black Magic ritual with human sacrifice. They cut him up whilst still alive
I suspect. A gift for the Dark Prince to savour.” She was kneeling by the
bucket and didn’t look happy. “I can’t be sure without a proper examination but
these organs were removed with some skill. A doctor, surgeon or good mortician
could be involved…or a very good butcher. Anyway, they were done with some
skill, almost like an autopsy. Except as you say Jericho; he was still alive
when it was done.”
Jericho shouted a
couple of times. “Harold Polanski!” and they watched without any emotion or
surprise as the little man came through the wall and stood staring at them.
Jericho turned to Owen to call a Collector, but saw he was already doing that.
He smiled at Harold and asked what happened. The small man wrapped his arms
about himself; he was wearing a shabby suit and appeared unwashed and
dishevelled. He had clearly been a vagrant when alive.
“They promised me
some whisky and food; she promised she would take care of my pains. I suffered
with terrible pains in my stomach and back. She told the others it was probably
cancer. I didn’t question them; they were so nice and helpful. I mean you trust
the Sally Army and a fucking doctor don’t you?”
Alex rose from the
bucket; “She was a doctor you say?” He nodded and almost smiled; “At the mercy
Hospital. She gave me an appointment and some pain killers which were great.”
He stopped smiling; “Then when I woke up….I was here….they cut me, they were
all naked with a big man wearing a goats head. I pleaded and screamed but they
just cut me….cut me up…like a piece of beef. “ He stared at his rotting body
and sat quietly on the floor. Suki the Collector appeared and the team greeted
her with some warmth. “One for you Suki, I think.” Jericho muttered, but had a few more
questions before Harold was taken to the light; finally.
The
team stood back on the platform and Jericho rubbed his chin; they would have to
report the finding of the human remains to the police, but they couldn’t
explain how they knew the details of his murder or who the murderers actually
were.
“So we have a certain
Doctor Pascoe at the Mercy Hospital and an unknown captain from the Salvation
Army who is probably the bloody Warlock, I suspect.” He spoke quietly and
checked his mirror again. Wilson folded his arms; “That hospital is about four
blocks away and that’s the only place people like Harold could go to get any
sort of medical help. I wonder how many of the other lost souls were street
people?”
Jericho nodded;
“That’s a good point. We need to visit the place and get a look at this deadly
Satan loving doctor and her Captain of Salvation. They couldn’t have a better
cover to pick up people for their gruesome rituals; people who nobody would
even miss or know had been killed. Come on.” The team in a very subdued mood
headed up the stairs to tell Mo that he had bigger problems than just ghosts to
deal with.
The young woman
watched the team depart and smoothed down her dress, she was joined by the
soldier and the disgraced banker who asked her about the four strangers.
“I don’t know who they were but they helped Harry and they now know about
those evil bastards. They may be able to help you two?” The
soldier nodded; “And you Kath.” She shook her head and stared at the
tracks; “No, I threw everything away and I’m condemned to stay here as
punishment. There is no heaven for the likes of me.”
She stared again at
the tracks and could see the stupid young woman running towards the platform
edge and the train driver’s face as she appeared in front of him. That was in
1925 and she relieved that day over and over again. She now asked herself daily
why she didn’t go with that nice young man towards that bright light. She
sighed and the three lost souls were gone.
From the shadows of
the old toilets came another figure that stood on the deserted platform and stared
up the staircase towards the bright light of day. He shuffled back into the
darkness and checked his little fob watch. It was always 5.45pm. He disappeared
back into the shadows and was gone, cursing his luck.
Mo almost had a
coronary there and then when Jericho informed him of the body and cursing like
a banshee, walked quickly to the Italian café to summon the police. The team
stood on the deserted pavement, which had been closed off the length of the
station frontage. That’s when two ‘brother’s’ called out to Wilson from the
busy sidewalk opposite. Everyone looked at each other; they had called Wilson
by his name!
They came strolling
over and stood by the barrier. Wilson actually groaned and ran a hand over his
face. “Bloody fingers and the bear! What chance meeting those two here and
now!” Alex had her arm through his and smiled; “Friends of yours big man?”
Wilson shook his head; “No, they were a couple of brother’s that I paid for
information about dealers. They shouldn’t be here; they never use to leave
Queens.”
Jericho almost
smiled; “That’s the chance you take dropping back into a time and place you
were active in when alive. See what they want.” Wilson nodded and said; “Money
probably.” and walked over to the barrier. Owen tapped Alex; “He knows some
interesting people; I mean bloody fingers and the bear?” Alex smiled; “Just
street names, I’ll explain it sometime.”
The sound of police
sirens could be heard and Mo was returning to the station and he certainly
wasn’t smiling. “Keep your statements short and succinct, we don’t want bloody
Shakespeare.” Jericho cautioned his team as the first police car came to halt
by the barriers.
7. “WE’RE THE GHODST BUSTERS.”
The big homicide
detective sergeant fascinated Owen, who couldn’t understand how the big sweaty
man could hold a cigar between his teeth, talk and chew gum all at the same
time. “It will be called multi-tasking later on down the century.” Alex
reassured him. He stood notebook in hand and just shook his head. “So, run that
past me again. You say you’re Supernatural and paranormal event investigators
from Boston University here to study, catalogue and document spectral activity
at this old subway station?” Jericho nodded and smiled. The big sergeant just
stared at him for nearly a minute. Jericho stopped smiling and sighed; “We’re
the Ghost Busters.”
Alex and Owen
chuckled at that.
“Ah, now I
understand.” The big sergeant called over to Wilson and wagged his pencil at
him; “How the hell did you get over here from 19th precinct so damn
quick? I just saw you heading to the Bronx with that little Italian partner of
yours.’’ Wilson just nodded and smiled; “Had to stop and see a friend
sergeant.” Alex held up her hand and
smiled; “Sorry sergeant I insisted.”
The sergeant stared
at her and shook his head in disbelieve and turned back to Wilson; “For Christ
sake Franklyn! That’s some snow-bunny you have there! Does that wife of yours
know?” he chuckled and gestured his three uniform colleagues down the subway
stairs and followed; still laughing.
“Snow bunny? What the
hell is a bloody snow bunny?” Alex asked and Wilson smiled; “Just a slang term
for a white woman or girl that likes black men.” He shrugged his shoulders and
Jericho asked him what his other friends wanted. “Help – for once – finger’s
cousin ‘Honey Bunny’ is missing. He wants me to take a look at it. She’s been
gone a couple of days now.” He and Alex exchanged a glance; they had seen her three days ago on their unscheduled and unauthorized dirty weekend. But they had to keep that to themselves.
Owen rubbed his chin;
“These people seem obsessed with bloody rabbits.” He looked across the road at
the billboard advertising the ‘Bunny Club’. He shook his head; “Bloody
obsessed.” He muttered and Wilson continued; “This is the best bit and will
certainly get your interest; Honey bunny was complaining about small hives on
her back, thought she might be allergic to something and so she had an appointment
with a doctor at the Mercy hospital. Guess the name of the doctor?”
Jericho nodded; “If
that’s the case, we need to find her quickly and so I think a visit to the
doctor is on the cards; undercover of course and that’s one for you and Alex my
friend.” Wilson nodded; “We’ll get an appointment with the doctor and see what
transpires.” The team headed for their station wagon and returned to the hotel
to find Father Adam’s waiting for them. They were all a little shocked to see
how much he had aged from their last encounter which was back in 1958 when he
was still relatively young. He commented on the fact that they hadn’t changed a
bit.
He, Jericho and Owen
sat in the hotel restaurant whilst Wilson and Alex changed into their disguises
and set off for the hospital. “So I’m dressed like an expensive hooker because
that’s how ‘Snow-Bunny’s’ dress?”
Alex asked as she held onto Wilson’s hand, walking towards the
hospital. He grinned and said; “Of course and you really look the part!” He
smiled at her outfit; very short ‘hot pants’,
white heels and bare legs. A bright red blouse tied around the waist which
struggled to retain her magnificent breasts without the assistance of a bra;
dark classes and her long dark hair tied in a pony tail. A huge flowery knitted
bag was slung over her shoulders.
Several ‘brother’s’
called after the pair; shouting at Wilson about his ‘Sno Bunny’. Wilson ignored
them, but took a causal look at her bum in those shorts. He groaned and said;
“Alex your bloody arse is like a peach and hanging out those damn shorts. No
wonder we’re attracting attention.”
Alex just grinned;
“So you want me cover up?” Wilson now grinned; “Don’t go putting words in this
brother’s mouth….” They both laughed and entered the out patients. Wilson
stopped in his tracks as the young woman ran down the steps and stood staring
at him and Alex. “What the fuck are you doing n****r?” she exclaimed and folded her
arms. Alex released Wilson’s hand and smiled; “Hi, detective Alex Cappanni,
it’s nice to meet you.” Wilson coughed and said “Celeste this is my partner for
this operation; Detective Alex Cappanni from the 23rd precinct.”
The woman held a hand
over her mouth and then laughed; “Sweet Jesus Wilson; No wonder your wearing
that honky white dude suit and hanging around with some white bitch. You’re
playing a pimp and his crack head hooker!” Wilson laughed and nodded; “Spot on
Celeste.” And held up a finger up to his lips and smiled. She nodded and
whispered to Alex; “Shit girl, that’s the best disguise I’ve seen. You really
look like a paid white whore. Hell, that’s good.” She wished them well and ran
down the steps, calling for a cab.
Wilson didn’t smile;
“Celeste is my sister-in-law; Lizzie’s sister.”
Alex patted his
shoulder; “Your other self may be a little confused when he gets home tonight.”
and smiled. Wilson just sighed and they walked in the reception area. He
stopped and didn’t smile; “Shit! This time travel lark really messes with your
head. I now remember Lizzie asking me about some undercover gig with a white
officer who really did look like a hooker. I just played along; didn’t want to
spend hours arguing with her about her daft sister and what she may have
seen. Nothing came of it and I must have
forgotten all about it.”
8. MONROE'S JONES APPARTMENT - PART 2.
Monroe was genuinely concerned about the disappearance of Honey Bunny and made Alex a large brandy and a very large Manhattan for himself. She had called on him to question him about Honey Bunny. Monroe was wearing a loose pink fluffy dressing gown which flapped open, revealing he was wearing a white Basque and stockings with matching garter belt and panties. Alex couldn't stop herself looking a few times at the bulge in those panties. He was probably the best equipped Drag-Queen/Transgender she had ever seen. They sat on the sofa together and recounted what Honey Bunny had told him about meeting a new client on the day she disappeared; some hospital doctor - a white woman - she had dealt with before. Alex didn't smile; she knew exactly who that was.
They sat talking and Monroe produced more drinks and appeared to get more upset with each one over Honey Bunny until finally he cried and Alex comforted him. He wiped his face and confessed that he was very emotional as a child and a teenager. He blew his nose into his hankie and smiled as he remembered how his mother would comfort him by letting him suckle her big breasts; "It was the only thing that settled me down and oh, how I wish I had a lovely big set of breasts to comfort me now." He sobbed quietly until Alex sighed and pulled up her low cut T-shirt, allowing her bra-less tits to escape. Monroe just stared at them, then smiled; "Oh, you are really a generous lady." Alex smiled; she had certainly been called that before!
Monroe sucked gently at first, making sure he had a fair amount of Alex's tit in his mouth before working hard on the big nipple. He was delighted and calmed down after just a few minutes. Then at Alex's insistence, he sucked hard; really hard and Alex suddenly found herself with damp panties. She groaned a little as he worked on her big breasts with some skill and real pleasure. She ran a hand up her short skirt and rubbed her fanny through her now moist cotton panties, whispering to Monroe who nodded; but his mouth didn't want to leave the big tit he was enjoying. Alex reached down and eased his cock from those little white panties and caressed it with skilful fingers. It grew in her hand as her eyes widened. She whispered again to Monroe and he nodded again.
She sat astride him; skirt pulled up, as he sat back on the sofa and feasted on those big tits of hers. Alex eased his big cock into her willing and very wet vagina and began to move slowly up and down and back and forth. Her little panties were around one ankle and they waved like a flag as she started to speed up. She was soon bouncing with some real determination and pleasure, though her tits were now a little sore from the endless suckling of Monroe. Within a few minutes she had a little orgasm and that encouraged her to want more.
Alex couldn't believe Monroe's stamina and staying power; they changed positions several times and he constantly fucked her hard and fast in whatever position she wanted. She had several little orgasms, but it wasn't until Monroe pulled a big white rubber cock from under the sofa and inserted it into her arse as they fucked 'doggy-style' on the carpet, that she really let go. He groaned, thrusting it up her willing anus telling her it was already lubed; he was going to enjoy it himself, but she had turned up and so he hid it under the bloody sofa!
The monster orgasm came quickly now and Alex groaned, panted and finally screamed as Monroe pulled his cock from her to allow her to spurt, which she did, cussing and crying as the liquid flew from her throbbing vagina and spattered his thighs and cock, before he quickly pushed it back in and fucked her some more. They rolled about the carpet; fucking furiously with the big dildo up her arse and Monroe's still stiff cock buried in her fanny; Alex had another monster orgasm which finished her; and she collapsed on her back and watched through tearful eyes as Monroe continued to fuck her hard. She reached down and pulled the dildo from her bum and just lay there until finally Monroe came. Alex actually screamed a little as she filled with cum; he must have spurted four or five times and she felt every drop. He collapsed on her and she stroked his face and kissed his cheeks.
His mouth went back to her heaving breasts and enjoyed them for another few minutes before Alex slipped from under him and walked - quite awkwardly - to the bathroom; she was busting for a pee now. Monroe called after her, but she was desperate to relieve herself and didn't really listen. She pushed open the bathroom door and sat on the toilet and pissed 'like a horse'. She then looked up and saw the big python uncurling itself from inside the bath which was half filled for him. It's tongue darted out several times quickly; tasting the air and it rose from the bath quickly; it must have been at least seven feet in length. Alex didn't hang around to measure it accurately because she ran screaming from the room, pulling down her t-shirt and skirt; screaming hysterically. She really had a thing about snakes and it wasn't a nice phobia.
Monroe watched her disappear through the front door and he quietly called after her; holding up her discarded panties. "It's only old Charlie, I use him in my drag act. He's quite harmless." He said and lowered the panties; "Oh well, I'll add these to my collection." He walked to his bedroom and opened the bottom drawer of the big dresser by the small window and dropped them it; he now had quite a collection from all the women he had fucked; many of them falling for his 'comfort & suckle' routine. He sighed and closed the drawer muttering; "I had better finish scrubbing Charlie for tonight's show. I hope her bloody screaming hasn't upset him otherwise the bloody old bugger will have to sleep in my bed tonight." He chuckled and walked to the bathroom.
9. “THERE’S SOMETHING VERY STRANGE ABOUT THAT MAN.”
In the privacy of
Jericho’s hotel room, Father Adam’s pulled his notebook from his battered old
‘Gladstone’ bag and a large brown envelope. “I was intrigued when you told me
about the earth bound spirits at the Subway station. So I’ve done some
homework. Here’s a map of the area with all unusual sightings
Over the last fifty
years. Everything appears to have started soon as contractors broke ground for
the station back in 1895.” He pulled a Zerox copy from the envelope and showed
a red circle drawn around the streets surrounding the station. There were red
dots everywhere. “I also think I know why the ‘Black Goat Witches Coven
operates from there. You go back to a map drawn up in 1710 and you see that the
area now covered by the station and a couple of blocks surrounding it were
sacred ground to the Lenape Indians. It was a burial ground for them.”
Jericho nodded;
“Well, that would certainly attract our Devil worshippers to the area. Did the
original contractors report finding skeletons and Indian artefacts?” Father
Adam’s nodded; “Didn’t delay the city fathers at that the time; they just slung
the remains away at a city landfill site and carried on. That’s how they
treated native Indians in those days.”
“So what do we have
on this ‘Black Goat Witches Coven’ Father?” Jericho asked and father Adam’s
pulled more papers from the envelope and opened his rough old notebook. “The
Vatican has quite a record on them. They are one of the oldest covens on the
East coast; been in existence since about the 1820’s. This particular nasty
individual is the known Warlock now.” He slapped a black & white photograph
on the coffee table. “Wallace Edward Coalman did seventeen years in Rochester
Penitentiary for a sex murder when just eighteen. Apparently in prison he
became a born again Christian and a model prisoner. He was released a couple of
years ago and is now a captain in the Salvation Army; working amongst the poor
and homeless. But he’s the local Warlock all right.”
Father Adam’s pointed
to an entry in his notebook; “Whilst in prison he shared a cell for some years
with John Abbott; yes, that John Abbot.” Jericho sighed and rubbed his chin;
“How did Temporal Intelligence miss that cracker?” Owen tapped the photograph;
“Who was John Abbott?” Jericho smiled a little; “A four time child murderer who
died in prison; they would never have released that animal back into society.
He was also a practicing black
witch and surprise, surprise no soul was collected when he died. He
terrorized the other inmates and the staff; he had actually sold his soul for
real powers form the Dark Prince and I have no doubt that Coalman has done the
same; too much of a co-incidence otherwise.” Father Adam’s agreed with that
assessment and Owen lifted the photograph.
“He’s probably out
there now, amongst the homeless and destitute, picking his next sacrifice. The
fucking arsehole.” Owen said quietly, adding; “They’re perfect victims. No one
will even notice they have vanished, never mind been killed and who would
suspect a Salvation Army captain and a bloody doctor?”
It was almost
midnight when the team arrived at the subway station and the street was
unusually deserted for such a warm summer night. Jericho lifted the ‘Police –
Do not cross’ tape and they descended down the stairs after Wilson had dealt
with the padlocks on the old metal gates. “They must have another way into the
station, these padlocks are untouched. Well, until now.” He said quietly and
they gathered on the dark derelict platform, switching on their mirrors to illuminate
the place.
Jericho stood right
by the Northern Tunnel entrance and shone his mirror down. “Come on, this way I
think.” They carefully lowered themselves onto the rusted rails and make their
way up the tunnel. They walked for at least ten minutes before they saw the
carriage, tilting a little to the right, ahead of them. “Probably been down
here since the station closed in 1929, would be a museum piece if they could
get the damn thing out of here.” Owen said quietly. Everyone suddenly stopped
as the noise and vibrations came over them; “A subway train passing on the new
line.” Jericho said and consulted his mirror as Owen and Alex climbed up the
rear of the carriage and pulled open the door.
They shone their
mirrors in and Alex said quietly; “Jericho, I think you best come and see this.
There’s a passenger sitting here reading a paper!” Jericho just stared at her
and then quickly made his way over with Father Adam’s and Wilson just behind.
They joined Owen and Alex in the carriage and the young man lowered his paper
and checked his fob watch; it was 5.45pm of course.
“Good evening Jericho
and I do believe I have the honour – at last – of meeting you Father Adam’s.”
he smiled and pushed his watch back into his waistcoat pocket and slapped the
old paper back onto the seat. He stood and thrust both hands into his dark
black trousers and smiled at Alex, bowing a little. “You truly are a beautiful
woman Lady Alexandra. It’s a privilege to meet you.”
He nodded to Wilson
and Owen and sighed. “Well, are you going to introduce me to your team
Jericho?”
Jericho nodded;
“People, I would like you to meet Alistair Tibbs, you could say he was my
younger brother, but there’s only three minutes between us. We are twins, not
identical one’s so we just call ourselves brothers, not twin brothers.”
The young man did an
elaborate bow and held up both hands. “I bet my dear brother has never
mentioned he had a twin brother in the same field so as to speak.” Everyone
stood in shocked silence until Alex finally said; “No, he never mentioned you,
may I ask why that is?” she directed her question to Jericho who stood
clutching his mirror. He sighed loudly; “Alistair works for a special section
of the Temporal Investigations Directorate; they report directly to Arch-Angel
Michael and really have no rank structure; they are called Special Agents.”
Wilson nodded; he had
heard of them, but never met one in person. They were legends in the
department; they normally received their assignments directly from the big man
himself. Strangely enough, he wasn’t surprised that a brother of Jericho’s had
reached such a position. It meant one thing; they were bloody good at their
job. No one actually knew what powers himself had bestowed upon his ‘Special
Agents’ – they certainly weren’t knights - but probably possessed the powers of
Guardians. They appeared to be something in-between the two.
“What brings you here
Alistair?” Jericho asked and everyone noticed the coldness between the two
brothers. “Oh, just paying a flying visit to my dear brother, seeing how he’s
getting on. It’s been a while since we met up.” Jericho nodded; “About ninety
human years if I remember.” Alistair smiled; “I’m flattered you remember
brother dear.” Jericho gestured to him with his mirror; “So what’s the real reason
you’re here Alistair? Or can’t you reveal your mission – like usual – to mere
temporal detectives.”
Alistair didn’t
smile; “I’m hurt that you think that. But you’re right of course, I
can’t say. What I can say is that you watch your back very carefully on this
one. The witch’s coven covers something far more sinister than just human
sacrifice and worship of Prince David. Coalman’s mentor John Abbott was a very
special pet project of the Prince. All I can say is watch for the dark light my
dear bother and keep your little team close; especially Alexandra.
Remember our dear Prince Jesus was betrayed by a kiss.” He was gone.
There was silence for
a few minutes and finally Owen tapped his chin;” "There's something very strange about that man." Jericho nodded;
“Amen to that, now let’s get on.” Alex and Wilson exchanged a glance; they both
knew that Jericho had not been pleased to see his brother and what the hell did
he mean about Alexandra? The team jumped down from the carriage and continued
walking in silence for another few minutes before Jericho stopped them. He
shone his mirror at a rusting door marked ‘MAINTENCE ONLY’ and nodded; “I think
we’ll find that this leads up into a building at street level. This could be
their entrance to the subway station and tunnels from above.
Wilson and Owen eased
the big door open and could see that it opened readily. Someone had definitely
been using it recently. That’s when the tracks beneath their feet started to
vibrate and they pressed against the wall and watched in amazement as a train
rushed past them, disappearing into the darkness. Owen finally managed to say;
“For fuck sake! Did you see that? It had people sitting in the carriages; I
mean they looked like real people, reading papers and smoking!”
Jericho grunted; “By
the style of their clothes, they were supposed to be from the 1920’s. Our
Warlock manifest’s them to scare off any intruders and keep up the ghost story
cover for this place. But it also means he knows we’re here.”
Father Adam’s stepped
through the open door muttering; “Smoke and mirrors will not help you my dark
friend.” Everyone followed and ascended the stairs very carefully. They came to
a dingy corridor lit by a single bulkhead lamp. They could hear voices and
music coming from behind a black painted door. Wilson gripped the bar and
looked at Jericho who just nodded and Wilson leaned down on the bar and pushed
the door open; they rushed in and stood in silence. Alex and Owen started to chuckle and were soon
joined by Wilson.
They were in a packed
New York disco with ‘Outa Space’ by Billy Preston playing. Two young girls
passed by them, giggling. They wore very little apart from real short
mini-skirts and cotton vests. One grinned at Owen and gestured to the busy
dance floor; a glass in one hand and a cigarette in the other. “Let’s get it
on!” she shouted and Owen
just stared at her. Wilson shoved him hard towards her. “Well, go on baby
brother.” Both girls grabbed him and dragged him onto the dance floor. Jericho
gestured to the bar; “The first one’s on me.” They gathered around the bar and
Jericho ordered drinks and they sat in a booth by the toilets. Father Adam’s
received a few stares as did Alex and Wilson when they took to the dance floor
and strutted their funky stuff!
Father Adam’s leaned
over the dirty, glass strewn table and grinned; “May as well make a night of
it, before we head back into the fray!” Jericho chuckled and knocked back his
bourbon in one hit. “Amen to that Father.” was all he said.
10. “WE’RE READY TO
BELIEVE YOU.”
Alex and Wilson
slumped onto their chairs; grinning and laughing. “I didn’t think I’d feel over
dressed in this outfit.” Alex shouted over the throbbing music and Wilson
chuckled. “It’s the heat in here.” He said and stared at two young women
dancing right in front them. They were wearing nothing but hot pants and bras.
They were giggling and giving each other an occasional kiss and hug. Father
Adam’s returned from the toilets as Jericho placed down another tray of drinks.
He smiled; “There’s a young couple having sex in a toilet cubicle; they didn’t
bother to close the door.” He accepted his whisky from Jericho and added
without smiling; “Two young men are sprawled on the floor shooting dope,
sharing the needle. Very stupid.” He sipped his whisky.
“What happened with
Doctor Death? Jericho pulled Wilson close and he waved a hand around; “She
wouldn’t see us. The receptionist practically told us to bugger off. It appears
she only helps the real underprivileged. Probably though I was a pimp or
something!” Jericho nodded; “Well your friends cousin hasn’t had her soul
collected – yet – so she’s still around and alive.” Wilson then looked up and
groaned; “Talk of the bloody devil.” Now that made Jericho sit up
until he realized that Wilson had spotted ‘Fingers’ and ‘The Bear’
heading to their table. He stood and greeted the grinning
pair who squeezed in and Fingers grinned at Alex; “Hi baby
sister, do you move right to the grooves?” Wilson saw the look on her face and
whispered in her ear; “He means do you dance?” Alex managed a nod and Fingers
grabbed her hand and dragged her onto the dance floor. The bear just sat
grinning; he was clearly stoned.
Jericho sighed and
said to Father Adam’s; “Dante knew what he was writing about.” And the priest
agreed with a smile. That’s when they heard the shouting and whistles. Wilson
slapped a hand over his face and shouted; “It’s a bloody drugs raid! Let’s get
the fuck out of here; this may take some explaining.” Jericho agreed with that
and they headed for the open exit that they had come through earlier; scooping
up Owen – and the two drunk girls – then Alex and Fingers. Alex was quite happy
about the interruption; she had found out why he was called ‘fingers’.
They slipped through
the door and Wilson slammed it behind them. They made their way down the dingy
corridor and back down into the tunnels. The bear stood in the darkened tunnel
– lit only by the teams mirrors – and asked Wilson if Evening Mass had started;
grinning at Father Adam’s.
They made their way
back through the tunnels and climbed onto the south bound platform. Both girls
had their arms through Owens’s and were all over him. Fingers wouldn’t let go
of Alex despite her protests. They stood on the platform and Jericho gathered
them together. He gestured up the stairs and told them to leave quietly, then
realized just how clean everything was. Everyone stood looking around; the
posters were all new and quite readable and Owen noticed that the peanut
machine was full.
Jericho pulled out
his mirror and sighed; wiping his face. “It’s the 12th July 1925 and
the sun will be up in twenty minutes and this station will be opened for
business. We’ve slipped back in time!” Fingers finally let go of Alex’s hand
and grinned; “Man, your shitting me, that’s some crazy gig right there!” The
Bear just laughed and asked if the Italian Pizza palace was open. The two girls
just giggled and wouldn’t let go of Owen. Father Adam’s tapped Jericho and
dourly said; “I think your brother could have warned us about a rouge time
portal. Little wonder people have been reporting ghosts
around the place for years.” Jericho nodded and consulted
his mirror again. He didn’t have much choice because he
could hear the metal station gates being opened and voices of
the staff coming on duty.
He activated his
mirror and the morning staff found an empty platform; except they all swore
they could smell alcohol and perfume. The group stood on the deserted platform
and a couple rats scampered past them. Jericho checked his mirror and found it was 1972.
They emerged into the early morning sunlight and found several New York
Policemen staring at them, standing around their patrol cars eating doughnuts
and drinking coffee.
Jericho grinned and
said ‘Good morning officers.” and started to walk towards the road barriers. A
big uniformed sergeant held up a hand and smiled. “Excuse me sir; but would you
mind explaining what the hell you were doing down there, intoxicated and
dressed for a bloody party?” Jericho slowly smiled; “Well, actually…” Fingers
interrupted the pair.
He waved his
arms about; “Wow! Sergeant Murphy we all were digging it, you know, grooving
and moving, doing our thing. Then Pow! Slap! Bang! We grooved back in time; the
old days man. You know before now. It was unreal man. Crazy!” The Bear asked the
sergeant if he had any pizza on him. The two drunken young girls giggled and
shouted at the sergeant that they had been dancing with a novice monk and he
was really cool. A bad version of Donny Osmond, they both agreed.
The sergeant stared
at Jericho and Father Adam’s who both shrugged their shoulders; “They’ve had a
real good time sergeant.” Was all Jericho said and the sergeant just smiled;
“We’re ready to believe you.” He muttered.
11. "YOU DON’T ACT
LIKE A SCIENTIST. YOU’RE MORE LIKE A GAME SHOW HOST."
Phil DeVine wasn’t
impressed about being called to the precinct station at 7am to bail the
visitors from Boston out. “We only did it because we got a call from the
Cardinal’s Office in Boston about the old priest. As for you; you don’t act
like a scientist. You’re more like a game show host.” Jericho just nodded and
the team trailed into their hotel and made straight for the restaurant; they
were serving breakfast.
After filling their
faces, the team split and grabbed some sleep before meeting up again before
lunch. Wilson dropped off Owen a couple of blocks away
in a down town area where the vagrants, drunks and homeless hung about. He was
disguised as a ‘down & out’. Jericho, Alex and Father Adam’s sat in the
back of a van supplied by operations, which was parked opposite where Owen was
dosed down and settled in. “He’s certainly making friends.” chuckled Alex as Owen
was accosted by other vagrants and drunks trying to get
money or drink off him. They must have waited about an hour with Alex
constantly moaning about the heat in the van. She was soon sitting just her hot
pants and blouse again. The only break in the tedium of the surveillance was
when two youngsters tried to force open the front passenger door. Jericho
suddenly appeared behind the seat and they ran off. That’s when Alex said
quietly; “I think he’s here.”
Wilson buzzed Jericho
to say that Doctor Pascoe had arrived in a black sedan and was parked around
the corner. He was sitting in the station wagon and had a good view of Owen and
the team’s van. He did ask how much moaning Alex had done.
The team watched as a
three Salvation Army people decamped from a marked van and opened the doors.
The vagrants started to form an orderly queue behind the doors. Jericho jabbed
a finger at a small man in uniform who was directing the feeding. “That’s our
man alright.” They watched as Coalman walked amongst the homeless and
desperate, talking with each in turn. “Maybe he missed his vocation. He should
have been an actor.” Grunted Alex who was now perspiring and yes; she was
moaning about that too.
“Bingo, we have touch
down.” Alex muttered as Coalman approached Owen and the pair stood talking.
Jericho took a sip from his water bottle and offered it to Alex who declined;
she needed something stronger! Alex operated her mirror and read for a minute
or two. “He belongs to this time and place and is not scheduled for departure
until 1986, when he’s killed in a burglary at his home. No suspect was caught
or convicted for that one, but Human Records show it was a certain May-Lee
Curtis; a troubled teenage girl who stabbed him to death in the bath.”
Father Adam’s nodded;
“Does it say if she was in the bath Alex?” That made Alex chuckle; “You dirty
old devil Father, but no it doesn’t give us that information; Jericho would
have to get permission to view
the life record to discover that.” Jericho sat back and rubbed his chin; “Our
Owen has already queued twice for the bread and
soup and scoffed the lot. Coalman is back talking to him; the bastard is
interested; I think he’s taken the bait.”
Jericho pushed the orb back into his jacket pocket; there had been no
signals showing any demonic presence. “So it’s just bloody evil humans to deal
with – at the moment.” He whispered to himself, a little relieved.
The team watched as
the Salvation Army people packed away their mobile kitchen and the van drove
off. Wilson reported that the black sedan with
the doctor was still parked up. “Owen can’t join us until she goes.” Father
Adam’s stated and the team had to wait another fifteen minutes before doctor
Pascoe departed. Wilson picked up Owen and headed back to the hotel. The van
followed.
They gathered in
Jericho’s rooms and Alex waved a hand over her face; “For heaven’s sake Owen,
get a shower!” His disguise had been that good. He even ruefully admitted to
pissing over his shabby coat for authenticity. Wilson groaned; “I bloody
wondered about that awful smell in the damn car.” Owen just grinned and made
his report; “Coalman told me that they run a hostel over on Grant Square and I
should make my way there. It’s for young homeless people. He really played it
up saying the people there will help me get a job or get me back into
education. Funnily enough, he also mentioned I need some clean clothes. The
place is an old hall apparently, named after some bleeding general.”
Wilson nodded; “Grant
Square – in this time and place – is a rundown area of the Bronx and the hall
he’s talking about is called the General Custer. Fifty years ago the square and
surrounding streets were quite affluent; now it’s just effluent.” Alex liked that description and stood by the
little fan on the floor; cooling down. None of the men complained about the
sweet smell of perfume and perspiration that now spread around her. Wilson
whispered to Owen; “Now that’s a little scent of heaven baby brother.” and
chuckled at the puzzled look on Owen’s face.
Jericho lowered his
mirror and thanked Owen for his efforts. “Well, you are going to take him up on
his generous offer and get a bed at the hostel. Stay in character; I’ll have
your dinner sent up to your room, I don’t think a posh hotel like this is quite
that charitable.” Wilson groaned at that; he was sharing a room with him. “I wonder if the
bloody hotel will object to me moving my bed into the corridor.” He told Alex
and meant it.
That evening Owen was
dropped off a block from the hostel. Wilson was right about the state of the
local area; derelict shops, old cars, pimps and hookers with numerous vacant
and boarded up tenement blocks. The van passed a blazing car surrounded by
youngsters who threw anything they could pick up, at them.
Wilson spotted a big
red, brand new Cadillac driving slowly packed with young
black men. “Jesus Christ, that’s a local drug dealer called ‘General Jackson’.
I busted him a couple of times when I was on the drugs squad. He’s a clever
bastard; his lawyer got him off both times. He also supports the local Black
Panther group with money and it’s suspected, with guns too.” Wilson said dourly
and turned the van into Grant Square, adding; “We need to keep a close eye on
Owen; a young white dude around her – a vagrant or not – will be a target for
the gangs around here.”
Alex was now
concerned and called Owen on his mirror to keep his bloody eyes open and stay
alert. Jericho chuckled; “Is that the mother in you coming out our Alex?” She
just ignored him. Wilson parked in a quiet alleyway and switched off the
engine. They watched as Owen ran up the steps into the hall and Alex sighed
with relief. Father Adam’s patted her arm; “He’ll be fine my dear. He’ll know
when to yell for help.”
They waited for about
twenty minutes with Alex constantly checking her mirror for Owen’s call. Then
she looked up as Wilson cursed and said angrily; “They’re never around when you
need them, but appear when you bloody don’t!” She saw the black & white
police car pass slowly across the front of the alleyway. A few seconds later it
reversed slowly back and a torch was shone down the alleyway. “Fuck!” was all
Wilson said and gave a couple of flashes on the van’s headlamps. “Leave Wilson
to do the talking.” Was all Jericho said.
One patrol man jumped
from the car – his service revolver out – and shouted for them to get out the
van; with their hands in full view. The other was cop was leaned on the roof
with a pump action scatter gun pointed at them. Wilson slipped from the van;
both hands held up and shouted for the patrolman with the pistol on him to
stand down. “Detective Wilson Franklyn from Homicide!” he shouted
and gestured into his jacket. The patrolman gestured
for him to come forward, but the other cop was already walking around the
police car; shotgun now over his shoulder, he shouted;
“Wilson you mad bastard; what the hell are you doing here
and who are your playmates?”
Wilson laughed; “Fuck
me, I thought you retired last year Ernie!”
They stood talking
just inside the alleyway and both patrolmen were annoyed that they could have
blown a stakeout by Homicide. “Nah, we weren’t told anything about a bloody night operation in
the square Wilson. Shit! Someone has fucked up.” Ernie groaned
and Wilson slapped his arm; “You know what that new Inspector is like; couldn’t
organize a piss up in an Irish pub. He’s straight out of city hall. Must know
someone in the fucking Commissioners office.” The other cop laughed at that.
That’s when they
heard the shouting and the sounds of glass smashing followed by several shots.
The two cops dived for cover behind their car and Wilson ran back to the van.
“Keep your heads down!” he yelled as he jumped back in. The patrolmen were
shouting into their radio; two gangs were fighting and now spilling into the
square. There were multiple shots and a car crashed into an empty shop with
three Hispanic boy’s crawling from it. The driver was dead behind the wheel.
They were firing their guns and screaming. Only the team could see the
Collector gathering up the boy’s soul.
Flames and smoke was
now pouring from an abandoned building as petrol bombs were thrown. “The blacks
and Hispanic’s are fighting over the drug and prostitution trade!” Wilson
shouted to the others who kept low in the van. The two police officers were now
firing their guns and sirens could be heard in the distance. “Some quiet
surveillance job this turned out to be.” Muttered Jericho and buzzed Owen’s
mirror; there was no answer. “Where the fuck are you boy?” he added, now
concerned.
Above in the night
sky a bright light was sweeping down; a police helicopter was now over the
square and police reinforcements were arriving in strength. The square and
surrounding streets were in riot and uproar. “Time to fuck off!” was all
Jericho shouted and operated his mirror. The van was now empty.
The team arrived
outside the lighthouse with some relief until they realized that Owen wasn’t
there. Jericho actually cursed loudly and operated his mirror again. “Where the
fuck is he?” he shouted and the team
returned to the van. They immediately noticed the police car across the alley
way entrance was ablaze and there was no sign of the two patrolmen. The place
was in full riot with the gangs
fighting openly in the streets. Jericho operated his mirror again and the team
appeared by the doors of the general Custer hall; Wilson shoved open the big
doors and the team fell through; bullets thudding into the woodwork around
them.
“You certainly know
how to show a lady a good time!” Alex shouted at Wilson who
slammed the big doors shut and dragged a large wooden bench across them. Father
Adam’s stood by the inner door and waved everyone over; the hall was in
darkness and completely derelict. There were no beds, no helpers, no vagrants
and certainly no Owen.
“This place is no
fucking hostel.” Wilson shouted and switched his mirror’s torch on, sweeping
the huge room. It hadn’t seen people in a long time. Jericho checked his mirror
and did a body check for Owen. “Found him, come on!” Jericho pushed through a
big door marked HALL MANAGER ONLY and found a staircase spiralling downwards.
“Is he OK?” shouted Alex, now really concerned for her friend. Jericho just
gestured to follow him. They found a locker room and Wilson basically knocked
the door off its hinges and shone his torch in.
Owen was sprawled
across an old table, groaning and holding his head and ribs; he had been given
quite a kicking. Alex and Wilson pulled him gently up and Jericho asked; “What
the fuck happened?” Alex gave him her hipflask and he took a big swig. “They
jumped me soon as I appeared; three of them and dragged me down here. They
would have killed me but the big fella with one-eye stopped them, soon as he
thought I was a cop. But they stole my mirror. Sorry.” Jericho patted his arm; “Why did they think
you were a cop?” he asked.
Owen - with a shaking
hand - picked up the gold badge from the floor; “Wilson gave me his old
detective badge just in case I needed to pretend I was. Thought it might come
in handy and it certainly bloody did!” Alex leaned across and kissed Wilson
with some force and just smiled. Wilson shrugged his shoulders; “Best idea I’ve
had in a long time.” No-one disagreed with him; especially Owen!
“I take it Coalman
wasn’t one of them. He’s too clever to get his own hands dirty.” Jericho sighed
and then added; “Come on, our cover’s been blown.”
He operated his mirror and the team arrived back at Jericho’s
hotel rooms, where Alex patched up Owen and father Adam’s poured brandies and
handed them around. “If they think Owen was an undercover cop, then they will
close down their evil operations for a while. Maybe even move from the area.”
Father Adam’s concluded. Jericho nodded; he was already informing Operations
Control about the loss of the mirror, then he suddenly grinned and chuckled.
Alex and Wilson
exchanged a puzzled glance and Jericho rubbed his chin; “Taking the mirror was
the worst mistake they could make.”
12. FINGERS AND THE BEAR.
The team returned to their hotel rooms to clean up and have a well earned brandy. Alex took a shower and stood by the large window, wrapped in a towel and read her mirror, then carefully replaced it back in her handbag. That's when there was a knock at the door and she peered through the security spyhole.
Alex pulled open the door of her hotel room, leaving the thick chain on, and smiled; it was Fingers and behind him - as usual - the Bear who smiled broadly and removed his hat. "Evening Ma'am." was all he said. Fingers grinned and looked about; "I...We have a little proposal for you baby that you should think about really carefully for Wilson's sake otherwise he's in some big shit." Alex nodded, now a little concerned and let the pair in; keeping a hand on her handbag that contained her mirror. They both stood smiling and Alex asked; "What is it Fingers?" He grinned - again - and ran both hands through his thick Afro-style hair. "Well, it's like this baby, Wilson owes us for keeping our mouths shut about you, I mean what would his sweet little wife say? And I...We think that deserves a little something don't you? That's only fair ain't it?"
Alex folded her arms and nodded; "What sort of something do you have in mind?"
Fingers chuckled and ran a hand over the crotch of his faded blue jeans; "You let us fuck you, one at a time or both together, we don't mind. Then all this will disappear from our minds and if you throw in fifty dollars we'll even back up Wilson's story if asked. Now you can't get fairer than that sweet baby sister, can you?" Alex sighed and stared at the pair, fumbling in her bag and pulled out forty dollars saying; "That's all I have on me." Fingers quickly took the money and grinned - yet again - chuckling; "That'll do fine darling. We'll take the other ten dollars out of your arse." The Bear smiled; "I can have that, can't I Ma'am?" as he started to pull of his clothes.
The bed was bending and shaking as they fucked. Alex was quite naked with the Bear rammed into her backside; he really was groaning and cussing with pleasure as he trusted hard, gripping her hips with some determination. Underneath her, Fingers had his hands and mouth full of Alex's big tits and thoroughly enjoying them. He thrusted upwards as the The Bear pushed down and Alex really could feel the two big cocks inside of her and she moaned; gripping the bed sheets with both hands. Her first orgasm came quite quickly and she cussed as it ran from her cock filled fanny and down her thighs. Fingers laughed; "You can't shout rape now darling! Your enjoying our big cocks too much!" She told him to 'shut the fuck up' as she squirted again, calling him everything from a pig to a dog. He absolutely loved that abuse and fucked her as hard as he could.
The Bear came in her arse and eased from her, giving her bum cheeks quite a hard slap. He immediately started to jerk his cock to raise another erection. Fingers fucked Alex for a few more minutes and then came too. He pulled her down and whispered into her ear and she called him a cunt and lifted herself off his cock. She pushed his cock into her mouth and started to suck and jerk it, feeling their cum loads running down her legs. The Bear grunted with anticipation and ran a hand between her legs and rubbed her soaking wet fanny quite vigorously as she felt Fingers cock start to erect in her mouth. The Bear lay on his back gripping his now stiff cock and Alex climbed onto him and pushed his slippery erection into her wet fanny. He already had hold of her tits and was squeezing them into his mouth with real delight.
She felt Fingers mounting her arse and his hands gripped her waist and he fucked her butt with real determination, giving her bum cheeks a regular hard slap. He moaned and muttered; "This is certainly worth ten fucking dollars of any fucker's money!" he laughed and really rammed his cock up her back passage. It made her eyes water a little. The Bear was thrusting his hips upwards and gripping a nipple with his teeth and mouth. Alex groaned loudly under the determined and frenzied assault by the two big cocks and had a big orgasm which necessitated her lifting off the Bear for a few seconds to let the juice spurt out. He quickly pushed it back inside of her and she rode him with some sexual passion, having another - smaller - orgasm.
They changed position with Fingers back underneath and Alex sitting on him; his cock still buried in her back passage and still rock hard. The Bear climbed back on her and continued to fuck her hard. This lasted for about another ten minutes before the Bear came in her and stayed to suck and squeeze those big titties he had come to adore. Fingers came with some force in her arse and she felt every drop flying up her back passage. The threesome sat quietly in the aftermath of their sexual exertions and the two men made no attempt to pull from Alex. Fingers reached to the bedside table and grabbed a whisky glass; telling the Bear to fill it as he pulled his cock from the 'little white whore' who must be thirsty after all that fucking. The Bear chuckled and did as he was told; easing his cock out and holding the glass under Alex's pouting fanny. the cum quickly ran out and into the glass.
When he had finished, Fingers - still in Alex - lifted her over and then into the kneeling position and took the glass. He gave her bum a hard slap and laughed. He slowly and carefully extracted his cock from her arse and held the glass between her quivering cheeks. The cum slopped from her bum hole and ran into the glass. He raised the glass and then handed it to Alex. "Now down that little cocktail in one and we won't fuck you again." he said and really smiled as Alex sat up and held the glass to her lips and called the pair a cunt each. She knocked the 'cocktail' back in one and threw the glass onto the floor; it's didn't shatter. The two men slipped from the bed, laughing and giving each other a 'high-five' and talking about how easy white whores were to fuck. Alex pulled herself against the pillows and grabbed a sheet to wrap round her abused body as she watched the pair dress and head for the door. Fingers stopped as the Bear disappeared through it; still laughing softly.
Fingers smiled at Alex and waved a hand; "Goodbye darling, next time we see that cunt Wilson, we'll tell him what a good, dirty fucking, little white whore you are and if we ever bump into that pretty wife of his, she'll find out all about you!"
Alex said nothing but stuck up a single finger which made Fingers laugh out loud as he slammed the door behind him. Then a delicious thought popped into her head and she smiled; "I wonder if James will do me a favour and wipe the memories of a right pair of bastards. For Wilson's sake of course." She actually giggled a little, then admonished herself for not thinking of it before she let the pair fuck her brains out. Still, the Bear had been quite polite about the whole thing!
She headed for the bathroom and realised this would be her third shower today and cleaned herself up; especially her bum which was a little sore from the two big black cocks that had ravished it. Alex smiled a little and thought about Wilson enjoying his favourite hole. "The things I do to keep secrets and now I'm keeping them for bloody Wilson." she said quietly and chuckled.
13. “I’M FUZZY ON THE
WHOLE GOOD/BAD THING. WHAT DO YOU MEAN BAD?”
They sat in the old
van and it was Wilson’s turn to moan; “Bloody Supplies, giving us this piece of
junk just because the other van was burnt out in that bloody riot. It wasn’t
our fault.” He folded his arms and stared at the derelict church beyond the
wire fencing and the big notices telling people to keep out. “How long has this
place been closed up?” Owen asked him, sitting behind the driver. Wilson
sighed; “I think the local diocese closed it down in 65. It’s been the haunt of vagrants and drunks
ever since. I seem to remember they found a young woman’s murdered body in
there a few years ago. She was a hooker who met the wrong client.” Wilson
gripped the wheel and cussed again; “Bloody old Joe from Supplies doesn’t like
giving us his precious vans.”
Jericho lowered his
mirror; “Well, the signal is quite strong, Owen’s mirror is definitely in the
place – somewhere.” Owen sat back and didn’t smile; “I feel bloody naked
without it.” Alex smiled and patted his arm; “We’ll get it back baby brother.”
That made him smile; “You’re spending too much time with Wilson; your starting
to sound like him.”
Father Adam’s was
rummaging in his old bag and muttering to himself. Alex smiled at him; “What’s
up father?” He shook his head and then a smile crept over his face. He pulled
out a small glass tube sealed with red wax at one end. Alex peered at it; “What
is that father?” she asked and the old priest now smiled; “Tears my girl. Tears
of an angel.” He carefully pushed the little tube into his robes and Alex
stared at him; “Do you mean they’re actual tears from a angel?” the father
nodded and now relaxed a little. Owen rubbed
his face; “Can I ask how a living human got hold of angel’s tears, when our
angels – like the dark prince’s – can’t enter the realm of humanity?” Father
Adam’s grinned and jerked a thumb towards Jericho; “He got them for me.”
Jericho shrugged his
shoulders; “I told angel Margret a sad story and grabbed some; with her
permission of course. You don’t just go around shoving test tubes under an
angel’s nose….or rather eyes in this case.” Owen grunted and shifted in his
seat – the old van was bloody uncomfortable – he rubbed his chin again. “What
sad story?” Jericho chuckled; “Well, anyone concerning you actually.” Alex and
Wilson laughed at that and Jericho suddenly held up a hand and stared at his
mirror. “There are several humans in the old church and I think they’re moving
downwards; must be a crypt below the church. Now that’s unusual for a New York
Church.”
“Heads up; we have
visitors.” Wilson said quietly and the team watched a new van pull up at the
padlocked gates. A big man jumped from the passenger seat and unlocked the
gates for the van to pass. Owen slapped his hand down on the back of Wilson’s
seat. “That’s the big one eyed bugger that took my mirror!”
Jericho tapped his
mirror and looked quite grim; “Was the name of that missing friends of yours; Susan
Grimes?” he asked Wilson who nodded; “Yeah, her street name is ‘Honey bunny’.”
Jericho lowered his mirror; “Well, she’s in the back of the van.” They watched
the big man padlock the gates behind the van and jump back in. The van
disappeared behind the church. “Bloody typical; devil worshippers and witches
get better vans than we do.” Owen said softly as he shifted on the seat which
was like sitting on stone.
Jericho said quietly;
“Set your mirrors to stun, I think we have a damsel in distress to rescue.”
Alex and Wilson pulled out their mirrors and everyone just stared at Owen who –
from under his seat – pulled a baseball bat and slapped a hand against it.
Wilson had to ask; “What the fuck are you doing with that?” Owen grinned;
“”It’s ok; I’ve set it stun only.” Father Adam’s slapped a hand over his face
and sighed. Jericho just shook his head; “Come on people, let’s get this done.”
They left the van and headed for the
church. “Nice night for it.” Owen told Father Adam’s who gripped his old bag
close to his chest. “Quite so young Owen, any night is nice, that we go after a
bunch of murdering, devil
worshipping witches in the name of our Father.” They pushed through some
fencing at the side of the church that Owen and Wilson had opened earlier and
made their way to the rear door. The sun was starting to sink and causing long
shadows to be cast around the old gravestones.
Wilson stopped by the
door and looked about; “Do you know I remember something about this old church
when I was alive. It happened a few years before I was killed in that liquor
store. I recall the papers carried a story about it.” He shook his head; “Can’t
recall the details now.” and forced the lock on the door.
They slowly crept into the gloomy church and
found the place in an utter state of disrepair. All the pews were missing and
the stone alter lay broken, there where holes in the roof and weather damage
everywhere. Jericho gestured towards the alter; “I think my mirror indicates an
entrance near there.” He said very quietly and a couple of pigeons flew past
the team and settled in the eaves. Alex
knelt by the broken alter stone and pointed to behind the huge crucifix with
the figure of Christ hanging to one side. “There appears to be some sort of
doorway there.”
Jericho cautiously
lead the team into the little dark doorway and everyone stood in silence; they
could hear chanting. “The ritual is on.” He whispered and slowly they descended
the stone steps and found themselves behind a dark curtain, he peered behind
the edge and nodded; “All stark naked and dancing around someone laid upon a
big stone table. Looks like it was taken from an old mortuary…” he hesitated
and then continued; “The Warlock’s here, wearing a goats head and carrying a
bloody big knife. There are seven of them; three women and four men.”
Jericho checked his
mirror and then pulled the orb from his jacket pocket and held it out. It
remained clear indicating no demonic presence. He almost smiled; “On my signal
we go; stun everyone.” He whispered and sighed at Owen slapping his bat on his
hand. He took a little breath and said; “Go!”
The temporal
detectives crashed the witch’s deadly little party with some surprise; they
rendered three unconscious immediately with their mirrors and the goat headed
knife carrying Warlock
received Owen’s bat over his headdress and he staggered around the room
screaming. The elaborate creation had shattered but the remains were forced
down over his face and he couldn’t get
it off. He ended up crawling around the
stone floor, cursing loudly and struggling with it. Owen kicked him up the
arse; purely for self satisfaction. Wilson managed to hit one of the escapers and
she fell to the floor, but the last two had gone through a dark little hole in
the rear wall.
Wilson hit the
struggling ‘Warlock’ with his mirror and the man lay still on the floor. Owen
really had to pull to get the mask off; it was the one-eyed man. “So, where the
fuck is Coalman?” he asked the others. They checked the one’s they had got and
Coalman certainly wasn’t one of them. Doctor Pascoe wasn’t one of the fallen
women either. Jericho cursed; the two principal witches appeared to have
escaped – if they were actually here in the first place.
Alex was checking Ms
Susan Grimes who lay naked and drugged on the table. She wrapped the girl in
her jacket and shouted to the others; “She drugged but untouched, she’ll be
alright!” Father Adam’s had found a suitcase sized chest on a small table by
the foot of the table. He was impressed; “Jericho, look at this chest; it
appears Ancient Egyptian!” Jericho lowered his mirror and told the priest to
step away from it; fast. Father Adam’s didn’t argue with that order and backed
away.
The lid began to
shake a little and the chest appeared to be throbbing. Suddenly the lid flew
into the air and dark grey smoke started to flood from it. Father Adam’s was
already scrambling in his old bag and to everyone’s surprise; cussing like a
Liverpool docker. He gripped the small
glass tube in one hand and raised the cross in the other.
Through the smoke
appeared an Egyptian priest in full robes; dark robes indicating a priest of
Seth; the God who manifested evil in the ancient kingdom. It was Coalman and he
was smiling; “Hello my friends! But you are not welcome here being the
followers of the false God. I serve the true God; the Dark Prince and he
command’s me to rid you from his sacred place!”
Jericho sighed
loudly; “You really are a very bad person Wallace.”
Coalman ran a hand
over his face; “I’m fuzzy on the whole good/bad thing. What
do you mean bad?” He raised both hands above his head and shouted in Ancient
Egyptian. The chest crashed from its table and darkness spread from it like
water flooding quickly.
Father Adam’s shouted; “The Dark Light Jericho! What your brother warned you
about!” the light moved like ocean waves and spread around the floor; the team
found they couldn’t move, it was like being wrapped in cords of tight rope.
They couldn’t even operate their mirrors. Coalman was laughing and commanded
Alex to pick up the huge knife that lay upon the floor. She did so, despite
screaming no several times.
Coalman gestured
towards Jericho; “Woman! Send this dog back to his master!” Alex lifted the
knife and shuffled towards Jericho who was struggling with no success. The old
priest suddenly stopped struggling and said quietly; “God give your humble
servant strength.” He smiled and threw the little glass tube at Coalman; it
shattered at his feet and brilliant white light exploded; so much so that
everyone closed their eyes. The darkness was swept from the room and Jericho
pointed his mirror at the stunned Coalman and rendered him unconscious.
Alex dropped the
knife like it was burning hot and breathed deeply. “I couldn’t stop myself; it
was like someone else was controlling my movements.” She said quietly to Owen
who leaned over the prostate Coalman and pulled his mirror from the man’s
waistband. It immediately came to life and Owen patted it like a favourite pet
or child. “Nice to have you back Cedric.”
Wilson folded his
arms; “You call your mirror Cedric?” he asked with some astonishment in his
voice. Owen nodded; “He was an old monk at the monastery who was good to me;
father Adam’s reminds me of him a lot.” Everyone turned to the old priest and
smiled. Jericho slapped him on the shoulder; “Father, the drinks are on us
tonight. But where did the strength come to break that bastards spell?”
The old priest
grinned and jerked a thumb upwards; “From a loving power that has never let me
down.” Wilson chuckled, heaving ‘Honey Bunny’ into his arms; “Amen to that
father. A bloody big amen at that.” Everyone chuckled and Jericho ran a hand
over his face and stared at the naked witches laid around the floor. “Now what
do we do with this bunch?” he asked himself and then smiled.
14. “I LOVE THIS TOWN!”
Wilson held up the
paper with his hands shaking with laughter and Owen joined in.
Alex had to find out what they were laughing at and jumped up from her armchair
and crossed the room. “Come on boys, what’s so funny?” she asked. Jericho and
Father Adam’s – who were playing chess – already, knew.
Alex took the paper
and stared at it in disbelieve; then started to laugh softly. She turned to
Jericho; “How the hell do you get away with this?” He just shrugged his
shoulders and returned to his game. The paper was full of the strange happening
at Rochester Prison; apparently a group of stark naked witches had set up a
‘Black Mass’ in the prison canteen and were found by the inmates who had turned
up for breakfast! The papers stated that
they had been charged with burglary of a federal building, outraging public
morals and assisting known felons. The paper also stated that one carried a
notebook in his own handwriting giving the details of several bodies buried at
an old subway station. He would be charged with multiple murders, so Coalman
wouldn’t be going anywhere soon!
“All in all, not a
bad result but we still need to find the evil doctor before she sets up another
coven somewhere else.” Jericho said as he moved his Queen. Father Adam’s
nodded; “She has disappeared from the Mercy Hospital and her plush apartment in
Manhattan with no word to anyone.” He moved his castle and muttered; “Check
mate.” Jericho just slumped in his chair and sighed “Best of five?” he had lost
two games already.
Owen look puzzled;
“Where the hell did you get the incriminating notebook?” he asked Jericho who
just smiled; “Oh I know a really good forger; he can copy your handwriting so
well that even you can’t tell the difference. He’s always willing to help out.”
Wilson started to laugh and Alex shook her head; “Jericho Tibbs; you are just
too much sometimes!” Wilson jumped from his seat and went to the drinks tray;
“Brandies all round?” he asked and everyone nodded. Jericho picked up his
mirror and sat reading.
“Apparently Ms Grimes
woke up in the Mercy Hospital and couldn’t believe she had been there five
days. She has no recollection of her treatment and her time spent there. But
her hives have gone so she’s very happy with the treatment; especially since it
was basically free.” Owen had turned a couple of pages and his eye
had caught a small article about the Mercy Hospital. Just below it announced
the departure of Doctor Pascoe for pastures anew. Jericho lowered his mirror;
“Human Records have located our
rotten doctor’s soul in a small town near Richmond Virginia. Let’s go people.”
Wilson groaned; he hated the thought of driving that old van all the way to
Richmond.
That’s when there was
a knock at the hotel door and Owen answered it. It was Phil DeVine and he
wasn’t happy. He blamed the ‘Ghostbusters’ for the total close down of works at
the subway station; the place was crawling with police and forensic staff. Not
to mention reporters and TV channels. Apparently the Mayor wasn’t happy either;
the bill from the construction company was mounting daily and nothing was being
done. He called Jericho a useless twat to his face and left.
Jericho just shrugged
his shoulders and told everyone to get their gear together. They booked out the
hotel and piled into the old van, but Jericho had one last task to complete. He
called Operations and asked that a senior Collector – preferably their good
friend Herbie – be sent to the subway station and attempt to collect the last
remaining missing souls there. His request was approved. “Maybe this time
they’ll go with the bloody collector.” He said and Wilson started the van and
turned into the slow moving traffic. “It will be better when we hit the
freeway.” He explained as they sat in traffic. They didn’t make the freeway for
some hours and had to find a motel on route.
The van sat in the
driveway of the little motel and Owen slapped a hand over his face; “Are we
really going to stay at the ‘Bates Motel and Diner’?” Wilson slapped the wheel
a couple of times; “Well, according to the map, the next motel is so far away
that we wouldn’t reach it before midnight and I’m knackered driving this bloody
heap of shit!” That settled the matter and they booked in. The motel reception
made them stand in utter silence; staring until the proprietor arrived. He did
look actually like Norman Bates!
He really made them
welcome and even offered them cold beers – for free – from his fridge. Alex
still couldn’t get over the foyer décor; there was wheelchair by the big window
and the curtains were shower curtains. A display cabinet contained various
large lethal knives and there posters of the famous movie everywhere. Jericho
signed the team in with a pen shaped like a knife and in red ink. Wilson
whispered to a still stunned Alex; “I wonder if our over friendly proprietor
knows what ‘bad taste’ actually means.” Alex nodded and whispered back; “I
wonder if he actually seen the bloody film!” He showed
them their rooms and admitted to Father Adam’s that he didn’t get many priests
staying here. Then with a big smile, added that he actually didn’t get too many
people staying here. Father Adam’s was – of course – very friendly and just
muttered; “No! I’m surprised by that.” The proprietor completely missed the
sarcasm in his voice.
Jericho and Father
Adam’s shared a twin room, as did Owen and Wilson. Alex was given a single.
Everyone settled in for the night and Wilson brought lots of beer from the now
very happy proprietor and they drunk them in Jericho’s room and then separated
for bed. All was quiet for about an hour and then Alex was banging on Wilson & Owen's door. Wilson opened it yawning in his striped pyjamas and Alex pushed in and climbed in his still warm bed. "I took one look at the shower curtains in the bloody bathroom and I knew I wouldn't sleep a wink." she said and smiled. Wilson just sighed as Owen chuckled.
Alex fumbled under the sheets and dropped her nightdress onto the floor and slowly pushed the covers down to reveal she was totally naked. She sat up a little and opened her legs; smiling broadly and said; "Do I need to send an invitation?" She certainly didn't. Wilson went first and fucked her hard for about twenty minutes before he had to cum. No sooner than he rolled off, Owen mounted her with some urgency and fucked her like a man possessed; he came in about ten minutes, swearing and groaning. Wilson lay next to them clutching his erecting cock; "Sweet Jesus baby brother, I hope you'll take you time when you have her again." Owen lay the other side of Alex and smiled; "I certainly will big man."
Alex reached her hands down and gripped their cocks, smiling; "Never mind that, are you going to toss a coin for who has my bum while the other uses my fanny? I want you both together at the same time." Wilson groaned; "Come on baby brother, we have our orders." Owen almost panicked; "But I don't have a bloody coin!" Alex laughed; "Well, alright, you can have my bum. Wilson has already enjoyed it." Now that did make Owen smile and the bed was soon rocking and straining as the 'threesome' got underway. They fucked for nearly an hour in various positions before falling asleep; Wilson and Alex sharing his small bed and Owen lay - exhausted - on his and everyone slept really well.
15. WITCH HUNT.
The little man sat back and accepted a bottle of beer from his amazed wife. He switched off the little Video monitor and sat back smiling. "I told you we would get some action with them. After watching the damn priest for an hour [he gestured to another switched off monitor; there was one for each guest room] and the young fellow playing bloody chess. Soon as that young woman stripped off and headed for their room I knew we would see something good." His wife sipped her beer and nodded; "I knew she was a whore, you can tell you know. I wonder how much she charges for a husband and wife?" They both laughed and enjoyed their beers; it would be soon time to feed the two little girls in the cage in the cellar. They had some serious filming to complete tonight when her brother turned up with his pals.
The breakfast was excellent; the proprietor’s wife filled their
plates and coffee cups, even Alex enjoyed her breakfast despite the sniggers
from Owen and Wilson. That’s when a sad looking proprietor shuffled over and
apologized profusely about their van being stolen during the night. Jericho
waved his apology away and told him not to bother calling the local sheriff. He
walked away a little stunned. Then the table burst into laughter and Wilson
raised his coffee cup and said: “I love this town!”
The proprietor returned to the kitchens - smiling - and spoke to his wife; "They didn't seem to care about the old van that your brother nicked last night to carry the bodies away. I just hope he gets rid of it for good." His wife lit a cigarette and nodded; "Clint knows what he's doing. Those girls won't ever be found."
Old Joe arrived with
the replacement van just twenty minutes later. He wasn’t happy. But did smile
as he handed the keys to Wilson and said quietly; “Try not to burn or lose this
one Wilson. But no one will be unhappy if you do.” He walked away chuckling to
himself. The team stood in the car park and Wilson just lowered his head and
cussed. Owen sighed; “It could be worse big man; at least it has four wheels
and one or two of them must work.” Jericho just said quietly; “Come on people,
it’s better than walking.”
The old, dull grey
bus was probably new when Roosevelt was first elected. But mechanically it was
sound. Owen pointed out the name which had been badly over painted; ‘New York
State Corrections
Department’ and they found restraining chains on the passenger seats
and all the windows were covered with wire. The driver had his own compartment
and Wilson barely fitted inside. The language
from the big man would have made a drunken sailor blush, as he drove down the
motel driveway. The Motel proprietor just wiped his face and stared in
disbelief; “City folk sure are strange.” He muttered to his skinny wife who
just stood and gripped her apron; staring at the departing bus.
Jericho consulted his
mirror and told Wilson to take the next left; a county two lane which ran
directly into their destination. They drove past endless corn fields on both
sides of the road. There was no other traffic until Owen spotted the little
sports car, apparently broken down – the bonnet was up – by the side of the
road. The lone woman waved frantically at the bus. It came to a halt next to
her and Wilson pulled the lever which made the doors spring open.
“Oh thank heavens! I
had given up hope of seeing another vehicle on this damn road and a State
corrections bus will do just fine.” She stood grinning until she stared at the
‘crew’. Jericho grinned; “Well do step aboard Doctor Pascoe, we were just about
to pay you a visit!” she turned to run, but Jericho got her with his mirror and
Owen, with Alex’s help pulled her aboard. Father Adam’s looked to the sky and
whispered; “Truly Lord you work in wonderful and mysterious ways!” None of Team 74 could argue with that.
The two sheriff
deputies sauntered up to the little car and stared in. One ran a hand over his
face and tipped back his hat; “Floyd, don’t she match the description of that
doctor wanted as an accessory to several murders up in the big city?” Clyde
nodded; “Suppose to be a witch so the bulletin says. Suppose that’s why she’s
naked and parked in the middle of a football pitch. The players said it was
real strange; one moment big Eddie was about to kick a field goal and the next
this car appears.” He sighed and told the crowd gathered around to move back a
little.
Doctor Pascoe came
around and stared at the police officers and crowds of people all staring at
her. Her mouth opened to scream, but nothing came out. Floyd opened the door
and tipped his hat; “I guess your witching days are over doc.” and slapped the
handcuffs on. Doctor Pascoe really did scream now and it could probably be
heard in New York City.
NOTES:
[1] Supplies recovered the old van and were surprised to find two bodies in it; it had been driven into a large ditch in the woods and covered with dirt. 'Clint' had indeed done a good job in hiding it. Supplies reported the bodies and was told by 'Human Records' that both the girls souls had been collected and processed, so that was the end of the matter as far as they were concerned; they didn't interfere in human injustice. Freewill and all that....
[2] James - a Knight of God - was more than happy to help Alex out and wiped the memories of Fingers and the Bear, which was lucky for Wilson's marriage at the time because the pair bumped into Lizzie and her sister just two days later!
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THIS EPISODE MAY CONTAIN THE FOLLOWING WARNINGS:
