Concept date: 2nd February, 2019
First published: 13th May, 2019Status: COMPLETED.
Version: EXTENDED.
Age recommendation: 15+
Average Reading Time: Approximately 45 Minutes.
Revisions: 4. [Last Edit: September 2019]
Angel-in-charge: Margret Team Assigned: Team 74
Human Time: 2011AD-1432AH Mission: 171717 - 6 - 2032
Age 15+
"LUCY LONDON'S LOST SOUL."
1. THE GIRL ON THE MOOR.
The two dog walkers began to slow down and both exchanged concerned and slightly puzzled glances. Finally, the older, burly man snapped the lead back upon his skinny black Labrador and told the younger man to do the same.
The younger man was fumbling in his heavy coat pockets for his phone and cursing his dog to keep still. The older man slowly approached the body, keeping a tight grip on his playful pet. He nervously wiped his face with his gloved free hand and breathing heavily, a little from cold fear, he knelt by the body and gently touched the young woman's face.
"Sweet Jesus Peter; she's alive!" He shouted and started to pull his coat off quite awkwardly - because the dog was held with one hand. "Get a fucking ambulance!" He added, pushing his heavy coat over the young woman's body.
The younger man nervously pressed 999 and waited, whilst his dog jumped about, barking at the silent woman. Her head turned a little and the older man pressed close to her face; "What happened sweetheart, how the hell did you get on the Moor in just your nightie?"
He pressed close to her face and almost jumped back when her eyes snapped open. She slightly turned her head and croaked; "Charles de Mass!" Then the piecing blue eyes closed again. The old man realised that the young woman was truly quite stunning, even with very little make-up applied. He smiled broadly and pulled the coat tightly around her and shouted at his young friend; "Did you get an ambulance?"
The younger man nodded; "The operator said the police would come with the ambulance." They both stood back from the still young woman and nervously shared a cigarette, pulling the dogs to heel and staring down to Fullpeaks Road, the only route for the ambulance to use, if it was coming onto this part of Scarfell Moor.
The older man looked across the Moor and some distance away, he could make out the ruins of Scarfell Hall, now cast with darkening shadows. He sucked deep on the cigarette and gestured towards the ruins; "The lass only said a name: Charles de Mass." They both stood in silence for a few minutes until the sound of approaching sirens caught their attention.
The younger man finished his cigarette and coughed; "The only Charles de Mass I know is THE Charles de Mass." He pointed towards the ruins and pulled his coat about, adding; "And that sick bastard has been dead for two hundred years!"
"You best make your way down to old Patricks Gate and direct them up here." The old man tossed aside the finished cigarette and gave his quiet dog a few biscuits from his trouser pockets. The younger man nodded his agreement and set off for the old set of gates, that would allow the police and ambulance onto this part of the Moor.
The older man looked down at the quiet young woman and wondered how the hell she was going to explain; how she ended up on the Moor, wearing nothing whatsoever; but a silk night dress that was almost transparent. That's when he noticed there was no mud on her feet or legs. His own boots were caked with the stuff - the recent heavy rains had turned the Moor into a mud-bath. The older man then noticed that the girl was perfectly dry - despite the heavy rain showers of just half hour ago.
He scratched his head; that looks impossible he reasoned. The girl should be spattered with mud and soaked right through; unless she only just appeared here. But that would appear to be also impossible, he and Peter had been on this part of the Moor for almost twenty minutes - rain shower or not - they should have seen her come onto the Moor. She was lying in open ground and very visible in that white silk dress.
His sharp eyes also noticed the little discolouration about her nose and small mouth - they could be minor burns he thought and looked about and could only see his and Peter's boot tracks [and some dog prints!] but no marks that resembled bare feet - clean bare feet. He actually looked around the sky and the thought crossed his mind; "How the fuck did you get on the Moor, unseen by us and without being absolutely drenched and covered in mud - the police will want an answer to that. "
He could see Peter leading two ambulance men - complete with rescue stretcher - and a tall, young Police Officer who was pulling on his heavy blue overcoat, whilst talking into his personal radio.
"This will not make any rational sense." He muttered to himself and lit up another cigarette, glancing back at Scarfell Hall ruins, he sighed - yet another strange mystery would be chalked up to the bloody Hall - and the whispered name: Charles de Mass, the notorious owner of Scarfell Hall who started most of the dark stories and legends about the place, way back in the 1790's.
Every local knew the stories about that dark character and a historian from Rutland University had written a book about him - it sold well around here, but not really anywhere else!
He chuckled to himself - that could change with the girl, he mused smoking quietly and patting his dog gently. He stared at the ruins; the hall had a personal connection to John Crabb; his Grandmother Grace held a séance in the library there, way back in 1969 - just a couple of years before a fatal fire destroyed the old house - and the things that occurred at that gathering made Grace swear never to organise another. She only spoke about it to John and his married sister Kath Warrington, as she lay dying in High Moor Hospital, some thirty years later.
John wished she hadn't; it still gave him the odd nightmare; even now, about what happened. "It was just one of those things that happen." He would mutter to himself.
He knew that her incredible gift had passed down to their mother and even Kath admitted she possessed it. He reasoned that young Grace [his Niece] would possess it, though she denied, quite strongly at times, that she did. John wondered what his mother; Lilly, would make of all this - if she remembered who he was.
He sighed and watched the two paramedic's attending the girl, whilst the young police officer wrote in his notebook and spoke on the noisy radio. Peter joined him, trying to keep his excited young dog calm. "I told the copper what she said to you and he just laughed; he reckons that old Inspector Vine will be unimpressed with that!"
John just nodded and offered Peter another cigarette, which he accepted gratefully. "Well that's what the poor girl said." He muttered and they both stood back and smoked. Peter called his wife and was retelling what had occurred when John's phone rang and vibrated; he looked at the phones face and saw his sisters name appear. He answered it slowly and was strangely, not surprised by what she said.
2. WHO IS SHE?
Inspector Vine just nodded a couple of times as Doctor Khan explained that the young woman may come around at any moment, but what concerned the good doctor was the bruises and marks on her body and the fact she clearly had been sexually assaulted - quite brutally - over a period of time.
He gave his opinion; that the young girl had been raped and sodomised on a regular basis over a short period of time - and beaten with a thin cane on several occasions.
Doctor Khan also pointed out that the marks about her nose and mouth, may have come from a cloth; used to administer some sort of sleeping draught. She also had marks about her wrists and ankles, which could have been caused by restraints she fought against.
"Sex slave." was the good doctors summing up of the unconscious young woman and Inspector Vine couldn't disagree with his diagnosis. Vines assistant, Detective Sergeant Olive Roberts, quietly entered the room with the evidence bag containing the dress and waited patiently to speak to her boss.
Inspector Vine watched the doctor depart and a young nurse take up station at the girls bed, chatting to the young constable who sat opposite. She held up the clear, see through bag marked with Police and forensic labels; "This may be a huge clue, even before we receive the DNA results." She half-smiled, then looked at the girl and shook her head sadly; "Will she make it?"
Vine pushed his notebook back into his jacket pocket and sighed; "Yeah. If she makes it out the coma, what have you got?" Olive patted the evidence bag and took a breath; "I sent some pictures of the dress to Professor Rose Carthday at the Victoria & Albert Museum - she's the top expert on old clothing and she rang me back straight away. Insists we treat the bloody thing with utmost respect; its bloody rare old clothing and worth a fortune!"
Vine looked down at the garment; "I know its silk, but why so special?"
Olive held the bag up; "If the professor is right - and she's travelling all the way up here just to view it - it was created in the 1780's as 'naughty' lingerie for the extremely rich, it was worth serious money back then. Now it could easily command five figures at auction and its extremely rare. The professor said, she only knows of three examples existing today. One in a private collection and the two others are in museums: New York and Paris. They were created by some French dressmaker back in 1750 and all have the same motif: devils and angels."
"Five figures." The Inspector muttered and told Olive to check with the museums, that they still possessed the damn dresses and find out who owned the private collection - then get it to forensics. They had already reported that nothing of interest was found where the girl lay.
Inspector Vine and Sergeant Roberts walked slowly towards the hospital entrance and out into the car park. A light rain was tumbling down and the pair eased into their car and sat quietly for a few minutes, watching the hospital doors. "There's nothing in the Missing Persons Index that matches the girl and Fingerprints have drawn a negative. I think we should have a closer look at the two who found her. I've walked the moor with my dog on numerous occasions and where the girl was found is right out in the open. How did they not see her come on the moor after the rain shower? If she had been lying on the Moor when that rain came down, she would be drenched when found - but she was stone dry. What does that tell you Olive?"
The Inspector started the car and headed away from the hospital, Sergeant Roberts nodded her head; "They are not telling the whole story, she must have come on the Moor after the rain and they should have seen her - the place is totally open, they would have to be blind, to miss her."
Inspector Vine half smiled; "And what about the crap that John Crabb came out with, about what the girl whispered to him; Charles de Mass. Some fucker who's been dead for two hundred years is apparently the chief suspect - what bollocks!" The sergeant laughed and pulled some 'curiously strong mints' from her purse and popped one in her mouth; "You know Mr. John Crabb has a sexual assault charge on his record, from when he was a teenager - but that was years ago, he's stayed clean since."
The Inspector grunted; "Or he's just not been caught again."
The sergeants phone buzzed and vibrated and she saw it was the CID office calling, Olive sat in silence as her colleague Preston relayed a very strange message. "I'll speak to the boss and call you back." She switched off the call and took a deep breath. "Some smart arse at Missing Persons ran the girls description through the archives and came up with a 100% match. That's a spot on hit - except there's a real problem with the bloody date she was reported missing by her mother."
The Inspector chuckled; "100% is a good start - what's wrong with the date?"
Olive smiled and said quietly; "The mother reported the girl missing from Westham, in London. Trouble is, she made the report in July 1921."
There was a short silence and the Inspector laughed again; "1921, I think we can skip that one!"
"It gets even stranger boss, the heart shaped birthmark on our girls bum matches what the mother said her daughter had - what's the fucking chance of two girls with almost identical descriptions, height and age, having exactly the same fucking birthmark, but ninety years apart?"
The Inspector turned the car into the Police Station car park and stopped, he leaned over the wheel and said; "What's the name of the missing girl?"
"Miss Lucille Sylvia London - Lucy London." The sergeant pulled open her door and stepped out, followed by a very quiet and thoughtful Inspector. "I haven't told you the best bit yet boss and you may want a strong cup of tea for this one."
He stopped at the rear entrance to the Police Station and said quietly; "What else is there?" The sergeant didn't smile' "There's several reports on file from 1921, 1923 and 1925 where the investigating officers all agreed that the girl was probably abducted by 'White slavers' for use as a sex slave - apparently the sex slave trade was quite well known and very notorious, at the time."
Inspector Vine wiped rain from his face and only said one thing; "Fuck!"
The sergeant chuckled a little, then said softly; "Just one other thing, the mother said something quite odd about her missing girl, that the Inspector at the time [1921] made a note of." She pulled her coat about herself and followed the Inspector into the station. Inspector Vine coughed; "What was in the note?"
Detective Roberts shook her head and didn't smile; "The mother said her daughter had become obsessed with bloody time travel; she would spend ages at the local library and old bookshops, reading or buying everything on the subject she could find. Her favourite story was about a certain Lucy Lightfoot, who fell in love with the effigy of a Medieval Knight and travelled back to the thirteen hundreds to be with him - bloody strange for a young girl of nineteen eh?"
The Inspector sighed; "This bloody case gets weirder by the minute." The pair walked in silence to the CID office.
3. OLD EVIL IN NEW TIMES.
The hospital canteen was quiet and only a few people were sitting at the tables, the largest group of four persons, sat in the corner by the large bay window. Nobody took much notice of them as they sipped tea and enjoyed a tea-cake each.
Owen leaned across the table and gripped the brown paper file with one hand, whilst drinking his tea with the other. "As you know, I was dumped by my father in Moorland Monastery when I was thirteen, so I know the local area quite well - at least I thought I did - but It has certainly changed a bit since I was last here; some six hundred years ago!" Everyone chuckled at that and Owen placed down his cup and tapped the file.
"Basically, the young lady failed to return home from work; she was a typist at the London Gas Light & Coke Company and she simply disappeared, never seen again. That was July 1921 in London, she was just 19 years old." Owen shrugged and quietly grabbed another biscuit and took a couple of bites.
"That means the young lady should be well over a hundred years old and she certainly isn't that age." Wilson tried a couple of custard cream biscuits with his tea and quite liked them - especially when Alex taught him to dip them in his cup.
"She still possessed her soul, so she has been in some other time which would explain why she hasn't aged." Jericho also enjoyed the biscuits and made a note to ask Mrs. Harris to order some for the lighthouse. "There is a couple points of interest to note; the Time-Line was breached in July 1921 when two humans crossed over from 1792 and again, within a few hours, the Time Line in 1792
was breached by three humans from 1921." Jericho sipped his tea and nodded to Owen to continue with his research report.
"I think this will float everyone's boat; the local Scarfell Hall was owned in 1792 by Sir Charles de Mass, who's soul remains missing to this day [2011] and Records note that he was a Devil-worshipper and practised black magic, he was also a sexual predator who liked young women and girls. He was also a sadist apparently. Quite a wonderful warm human." Owen smiled at his own sarcasm and continued; "There were no less than nine breeches of the Time-line in 1792 and all could be traced to this area, but the destinations were quite varied: 1561, 1902 [twice] 1874, 1888, 1921, 1944 & 2011 [twice]. but nothing after the last breech in 2011 - not a single jump occurred again - until this morning when the current time-line was breached from 1792 and we know that was poor young Lucy London. But two humans were concerned in that incident - who was the other one?"
"So it obvious that Scarfell Hall requires our attention, particularly in the year 1792 and certainly Sir Charles de Mass needs to be put under the spotlight. But first a little trip to 1921 and see what happened to the young girl." Jericho finished his tea and rose from his seat, the others followed and Alex assembled the cups and saucers on a tray and returned them to the counter.
The spotty young man behind the canteen counter actually tried to chat Alex up and was a little disappointed, when she politely refused his offer of a film and an Indian afterwards. The little group gathered in a stairwell and jumped to 5th July 1921 London to locate the living body of Miss Lucy London.
Jericho and Owen stood on the corner of The Strand and watched down the street towards Moon Alley. Owen wiped some rain from his face and replaced his mirror into his coat pocket. Jericho stood silently beneath his large black umbrella until a young woman crossed the road and walked past Moon Alley. "That must be her." Owen spoke softly and then noticed the big black car emerge from the alley, the a door was pushed open and a burly man moved quickly onto the pavement.
He dragged the screaming woman into the car which drove at speed down The Strand. The whole incident was over in less than a minute - a small group of passer-byes stood near the alley entrance, talking amongst themselves - they seemed to have found the whole thing quite unbelievable.
Jericho nodded to Owen and pulled his mirror out whilst Owen held his umbrella, he studied his mirror for a few seconds and muttered happily; "Got them." The strange pair disappeared, much to the shock of a passing vagrant who almost dropped his bottle of stout, that he had just been given by the landlord of the 'Pen & Ink' tavern, for to quote the landlord: 'fuck off from my doorway' end quote.
Owen signalled to Wilson and Alex with the umbrella and Wilson drove the car from the little side road and pulled up next to them. Alex pushed open the door and smiled; "Kasmin just dropped this off, I told him we will only need it for a few hours." Jericho and Owen squeezed in and Jericho gave directions to Wilson - the team of detectives were now on the trail of the time travelling abductors.
The small black car sat quietly in the cutting, just a little distance from the ruins of St. Mary's Church with the engine switched off. The four people sitting inside were also quiet, watching the rain tumbling down. Jericho looked up from his mirror; "Human Records informs us that on this time and date, that car we saw will turn up at this church." He spoke to Wilson, who was in the drivers seat. "Lets get some air in here, while we wait." The big man muttered.
"Well, hello Mister Tibbs and your large black assistant is?" Deseri folded his arms and grinned. The demon was about six or seven feet tall with the body of a dedicated body builder and the features of a male model; it was a recurring theme amongst the top echelon of Demons, that they presented themselves in such a human form - well, except the female demons!
Jericho and Wilson stood without saying a word. The demon wagged a finger; "Tut Tut, Jericho - drinking my brandy and upsetting my pre-dinner entertainment with young George and the girl. I was looking forward to enjoying both of them. Then you steal my favourite dish and wrap it it up in a table cloth. Not very friendly I would say." The demon sighed and ran a hand over his face, adding; "You are well out of your depth here Inspector because I am hosting this little dinner for my boss." He grinned again as he saw the look upon the detectives faces.
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Copyright © 2011-2020 Stephen Williams. No reproduction of any part without permission.
Angel-in-charge: Margret Team Assigned: Team 74
Human Time: 2011AD-1432AH Mission: 171717 - 6 - 2032
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| "LUCY LONDON'S LOST SOUL." |
MISSION SUMMARY: "On a damp March afternoon in 2011, two friends walking their dogs on Scarfell Moor came across the body of a young woman. She was wearing nothing but a silk night dress, embroidered with devils and angels. To the men's shock; she was still alive - just. Mr. Tibbs and his team are on the case because Miss Lucy London vanished some ninety years ago - Her soul has been missing all that time - where has she been?"
NOTES: This episode contains strong language and horror with very strong sexual references.
"This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead or actual events is purely coincidental." The Author.
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| 45 Min. |
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| Book Series 3. |
"LUCY LONDON'S LOST SOUL."
1. THE GIRL ON THE MOOR.
The two dog walkers began to slow down and both exchanged concerned and slightly puzzled glances. Finally, the older, burly man snapped the lead back upon his skinny black Labrador and told the younger man to do the same.
The younger man was fumbling in his heavy coat pockets for his phone and cursing his dog to keep still. The older man slowly approached the body, keeping a tight grip on his playful pet. He nervously wiped his face with his gloved free hand and breathing heavily, a little from cold fear, he knelt by the body and gently touched the young woman's face.
"Sweet Jesus Peter; she's alive!" He shouted and started to pull his coat off quite awkwardly - because the dog was held with one hand. "Get a fucking ambulance!" He added, pushing his heavy coat over the young woman's body.
The younger man nervously pressed 999 and waited, whilst his dog jumped about, barking at the silent woman. Her head turned a little and the older man pressed close to her face; "What happened sweetheart, how the hell did you get on the Moor in just your nightie?"
He pressed close to her face and almost jumped back when her eyes snapped open. She slightly turned her head and croaked; "Charles de Mass!" Then the piecing blue eyes closed again. The old man realised that the young woman was truly quite stunning, even with very little make-up applied. He smiled broadly and pulled the coat tightly around her and shouted at his young friend; "Did you get an ambulance?"
The younger man nodded; "The operator said the police would come with the ambulance." They both stood back from the still young woman and nervously shared a cigarette, pulling the dogs to heel and staring down to Fullpeaks Road, the only route for the ambulance to use, if it was coming onto this part of Scarfell Moor.
The older man looked across the Moor and some distance away, he could make out the ruins of Scarfell Hall, now cast with darkening shadows. He sucked deep on the cigarette and gestured towards the ruins; "The lass only said a name: Charles de Mass." They both stood in silence for a few minutes until the sound of approaching sirens caught their attention.
The younger man finished his cigarette and coughed; "The only Charles de Mass I know is THE Charles de Mass." He pointed towards the ruins and pulled his coat about, adding; "And that sick bastard has been dead for two hundred years!"
"You best make your way down to old Patricks Gate and direct them up here." The old man tossed aside the finished cigarette and gave his quiet dog a few biscuits from his trouser pockets. The younger man nodded his agreement and set off for the old set of gates, that would allow the police and ambulance onto this part of the Moor.
The older man looked down at the quiet young woman and wondered how the hell she was going to explain; how she ended up on the Moor, wearing nothing whatsoever; but a silk night dress that was almost transparent. That's when he noticed there was no mud on her feet or legs. His own boots were caked with the stuff - the recent heavy rains had turned the Moor into a mud-bath. The older man then noticed that the girl was perfectly dry - despite the heavy rain showers of just half hour ago.
He scratched his head; that looks impossible he reasoned. The girl should be spattered with mud and soaked right through; unless she only just appeared here. But that would appear to be also impossible, he and Peter had been on this part of the Moor for almost twenty minutes - rain shower or not - they should have seen her come onto the Moor. She was lying in open ground and very visible in that white silk dress.
His sharp eyes also noticed the little discolouration about her nose and small mouth - they could be minor burns he thought and looked about and could only see his and Peter's boot tracks [and some dog prints!] but no marks that resembled bare feet - clean bare feet. He actually looked around the sky and the thought crossed his mind; "How the fuck did you get on the Moor, unseen by us and without being absolutely drenched and covered in mud - the police will want an answer to that. "
He could see Peter leading two ambulance men - complete with rescue stretcher - and a tall, young Police Officer who was pulling on his heavy blue overcoat, whilst talking into his personal radio.
"This will not make any rational sense." He muttered to himself and lit up another cigarette, glancing back at Scarfell Hall ruins, he sighed - yet another strange mystery would be chalked up to the bloody Hall - and the whispered name: Charles de Mass, the notorious owner of Scarfell Hall who started most of the dark stories and legends about the place, way back in the 1790's.
Every local knew the stories about that dark character and a historian from Rutland University had written a book about him - it sold well around here, but not really anywhere else!
He chuckled to himself - that could change with the girl, he mused smoking quietly and patting his dog gently. He stared at the ruins; the hall had a personal connection to John Crabb; his Grandmother Grace held a séance in the library there, way back in 1969 - just a couple of years before a fatal fire destroyed the old house - and the things that occurred at that gathering made Grace swear never to organise another. She only spoke about it to John and his married sister Kath Warrington, as she lay dying in High Moor Hospital, some thirty years later.
John wished she hadn't; it still gave him the odd nightmare; even now, about what happened. "It was just one of those things that happen." He would mutter to himself.
He knew that her incredible gift had passed down to their mother and even Kath admitted she possessed it. He reasoned that young Grace [his Niece] would possess it, though she denied, quite strongly at times, that she did. John wondered what his mother; Lilly, would make of all this - if she remembered who he was.
He sighed and watched the two paramedic's attending the girl, whilst the young police officer wrote in his notebook and spoke on the noisy radio. Peter joined him, trying to keep his excited young dog calm. "I told the copper what she said to you and he just laughed; he reckons that old Inspector Vine will be unimpressed with that!"
John just nodded and offered Peter another cigarette, which he accepted gratefully. "Well that's what the poor girl said." He muttered and they both stood back and smoked. Peter called his wife and was retelling what had occurred when John's phone rang and vibrated; he looked at the phones face and saw his sisters name appear. He answered it slowly and was strangely, not surprised by what she said.
2. WHO IS SHE?
Inspector Vine just nodded a couple of times as Doctor Khan explained that the young woman may come around at any moment, but what concerned the good doctor was the bruises and marks on her body and the fact she clearly had been sexually assaulted - quite brutally - over a period of time.
He gave his opinion; that the young girl had been raped and sodomised on a regular basis over a short period of time - and beaten with a thin cane on several occasions.
Doctor Khan also pointed out that the marks about her nose and mouth, may have come from a cloth; used to administer some sort of sleeping draught. She also had marks about her wrists and ankles, which could have been caused by restraints she fought against.
"Sex slave." was the good doctors summing up of the unconscious young woman and Inspector Vine couldn't disagree with his diagnosis. Vines assistant, Detective Sergeant Olive Roberts, quietly entered the room with the evidence bag containing the dress and waited patiently to speak to her boss.
Inspector Vine watched the doctor depart and a young nurse take up station at the girls bed, chatting to the young constable who sat opposite. She held up the clear, see through bag marked with Police and forensic labels; "This may be a huge clue, even before we receive the DNA results." She half-smiled, then looked at the girl and shook her head sadly; "Will she make it?"
Vine pushed his notebook back into his jacket pocket and sighed; "Yeah. If she makes it out the coma, what have you got?" Olive patted the evidence bag and took a breath; "I sent some pictures of the dress to Professor Rose Carthday at the Victoria & Albert Museum - she's the top expert on old clothing and she rang me back straight away. Insists we treat the bloody thing with utmost respect; its bloody rare old clothing and worth a fortune!"
Vine looked down at the garment; "I know its silk, but why so special?"
Olive held the bag up; "If the professor is right - and she's travelling all the way up here just to view it - it was created in the 1780's as 'naughty' lingerie for the extremely rich, it was worth serious money back then. Now it could easily command five figures at auction and its extremely rare. The professor said, she only knows of three examples existing today. One in a private collection and the two others are in museums: New York and Paris. They were created by some French dressmaker back in 1750 and all have the same motif: devils and angels."
"Five figures." The Inspector muttered and told Olive to check with the museums, that they still possessed the damn dresses and find out who owned the private collection - then get it to forensics. They had already reported that nothing of interest was found where the girl lay.
The Inspector started the car and headed away from the hospital, Sergeant Roberts nodded her head; "They are not telling the whole story, she must have come on the Moor after the rain and they should have seen her - the place is totally open, they would have to be blind, to miss her."
Inspector Vine half smiled; "And what about the crap that John Crabb came out with, about what the girl whispered to him; Charles de Mass. Some fucker who's been dead for two hundred years is apparently the chief suspect - what bollocks!" The sergeant laughed and pulled some 'curiously strong mints' from her purse and popped one in her mouth; "You know Mr. John Crabb has a sexual assault charge on his record, from when he was a teenager - but that was years ago, he's stayed clean since."
The Inspector grunted; "Or he's just not been caught again."
The sergeants phone buzzed and vibrated and she saw it was the CID office calling, Olive sat in silence as her colleague Preston relayed a very strange message. "I'll speak to the boss and call you back." She switched off the call and took a deep breath. "Some smart arse at Missing Persons ran the girls description through the archives and came up with a 100% match. That's a spot on hit - except there's a real problem with the bloody date she was reported missing by her mother."
The Inspector chuckled; "100% is a good start - what's wrong with the date?"
Olive smiled and said quietly; "The mother reported the girl missing from Westham, in London. Trouble is, she made the report in July 1921."
There was a short silence and the Inspector laughed again; "1921, I think we can skip that one!"
"It gets even stranger boss, the heart shaped birthmark on our girls bum matches what the mother said her daughter had - what's the fucking chance of two girls with almost identical descriptions, height and age, having exactly the same fucking birthmark, but ninety years apart?"
The Inspector turned the car into the Police Station car park and stopped, he leaned over the wheel and said; "What's the name of the missing girl?"
"Miss Lucille Sylvia London - Lucy London." The sergeant pulled open her door and stepped out, followed by a very quiet and thoughtful Inspector. "I haven't told you the best bit yet boss and you may want a strong cup of tea for this one."
He stopped at the rear entrance to the Police Station and said quietly; "What else is there?" The sergeant didn't smile' "There's several reports on file from 1921, 1923 and 1925 where the investigating officers all agreed that the girl was probably abducted by 'White slavers' for use as a sex slave - apparently the sex slave trade was quite well known and very notorious, at the time."
Inspector Vine wiped rain from his face and only said one thing; "Fuck!"
The sergeant chuckled a little, then said softly; "Just one other thing, the mother said something quite odd about her missing girl, that the Inspector at the time [1921] made a note of." She pulled her coat about herself and followed the Inspector into the station. Inspector Vine coughed; "What was in the note?"
Detective Roberts shook her head and didn't smile; "The mother said her daughter had become obsessed with bloody time travel; she would spend ages at the local library and old bookshops, reading or buying everything on the subject she could find. Her favourite story was about a certain Lucy Lightfoot, who fell in love with the effigy of a Medieval Knight and travelled back to the thirteen hundreds to be with him - bloody strange for a young girl of nineteen eh?"
The Inspector sighed; "This bloody case gets weirder by the minute." The pair walked in silence to the CID office.
3. OLD EVIL IN NEW TIMES.
The hospital canteen was quiet and only a few people were sitting at the tables, the largest group of four persons, sat in the corner by the large bay window. Nobody took much notice of them as they sipped tea and enjoyed a tea-cake each.
Owen leaned across the table and gripped the brown paper file with one hand, whilst drinking his tea with the other. "As you know, I was dumped by my father in Moorland Monastery when I was thirteen, so I know the local area quite well - at least I thought I did - but It has certainly changed a bit since I was last here; some six hundred years ago!" Everyone chuckled at that and Owen placed down his cup and tapped the file.
"Basically, the young lady failed to return home from work; she was a typist at the London Gas Light & Coke Company and she simply disappeared, never seen again. That was July 1921 in London, she was just 19 years old." Owen shrugged and quietly grabbed another biscuit and took a couple of bites.
"That means the young lady should be well over a hundred years old and she certainly isn't that age." Wilson tried a couple of custard cream biscuits with his tea and quite liked them - especially when Alex taught him to dip them in his cup.
"She still possessed her soul, so she has been in some other time which would explain why she hasn't aged." Jericho also enjoyed the biscuits and made a note to ask Mrs. Harris to order some for the lighthouse. "There is a couple points of interest to note; the Time-Line was breached in July 1921 when two humans crossed over from 1792 and again, within a few hours, the Time Line in 1792
was breached by three humans from 1921." Jericho sipped his tea and nodded to Owen to continue with his research report.
"I think this will float everyone's boat; the local Scarfell Hall was owned in 1792 by Sir Charles de Mass, who's soul remains missing to this day [2011] and Records note that he was a Devil-worshipper and practised black magic, he was also a sexual predator who liked young women and girls. He was also a sadist apparently. Quite a wonderful warm human." Owen smiled at his own sarcasm and continued; "There were no less than nine breeches of the Time-line in 1792 and all could be traced to this area, but the destinations were quite varied: 1561, 1902 [twice] 1874, 1888, 1921, 1944 & 2011 [twice]. but nothing after the last breech in 2011 - not a single jump occurred again - until this morning when the current time-line was breached from 1792 and we know that was poor young Lucy London. But two humans were concerned in that incident - who was the other one?"
"So it obvious that Scarfell Hall requires our attention, particularly in the year 1792 and certainly Sir Charles de Mass needs to be put under the spotlight. But first a little trip to 1921 and see what happened to the young girl." Jericho finished his tea and rose from his seat, the others followed and Alex assembled the cups and saucers on a tray and returned them to the counter.
The spotty young man behind the canteen counter actually tried to chat Alex up and was a little disappointed, when she politely refused his offer of a film and an Indian afterwards. The little group gathered in a stairwell and jumped to 5th July 1921 London to locate the living body of Miss Lucy London.
Jericho and Owen stood on the corner of The Strand and watched down the street towards Moon Alley. Owen wiped some rain from his face and replaced his mirror into his coat pocket. Jericho stood silently beneath his large black umbrella until a young woman crossed the road and walked past Moon Alley. "That must be her." Owen spoke softly and then noticed the big black car emerge from the alley, the a door was pushed open and a burly man moved quickly onto the pavement.
He dragged the screaming woman into the car which drove at speed down The Strand. The whole incident was over in less than a minute - a small group of passer-byes stood near the alley entrance, talking amongst themselves - they seemed to have found the whole thing quite unbelievable.
Jericho nodded to Owen and pulled his mirror out whilst Owen held his umbrella, he studied his mirror for a few seconds and muttered happily; "Got them." The strange pair disappeared, much to the shock of a passing vagrant who almost dropped his bottle of stout, that he had just been given by the landlord of the 'Pen & Ink' tavern, for to quote the landlord: 'fuck off from my doorway' end quote.
Owen signalled to Wilson and Alex with the umbrella and Wilson drove the car from the little side road and pulled up next to them. Alex pushed open the door and smiled; "Kasmin just dropped this off, I told him we will only need it for a few hours." Jericho and Owen squeezed in and Jericho gave directions to Wilson - the team of detectives were now on the trail of the time travelling abductors.
The small black car sat quietly in the cutting, just a little distance from the ruins of St. Mary's Church with the engine switched off. The four people sitting inside were also quiet, watching the rain tumbling down. Jericho looked up from his mirror; "Human Records informs us that on this time and date, that car we saw will turn up at this church." He spoke to Wilson, who was in the drivers seat. "Lets get some air in here, while we wait." The big man muttered.
Wilson turned the window handle several times to get the damn window about halfway down. "This heap of old shit was the best they could do?" he asked Owen, who just smiled; "It will do for the short time we need it." Jericho was sitting in the rear with Alex, consulting his mirror again. Alex leaned forward, behind Wilson's seat; "Who are we watching for Owen?" She asked, staring through the wet windscreen towards the ruins of the old church. Owen pointed down the country road; "That car." He said simply.
The big dark automobile slowed, then the driver carefully positioned it in driveway of the old church, stopping near the rear. The two men stood looking about in the derelict churchyard, then opened the rear of the car and the bigger man of the pair, slung a dirty brown carpet over his shoulder, whilst the other, much smaller, man produced a large ornate door key. They disappeared out of sight and the team quickly left their own car and made their way to the church.
They were not surprised to find the two men and their carpet had simply vanished. Jericho pulled his mirror out and studied it carefully; "Time portal in the crypt apparently." He muttered and everyone started to look for the entrance to the crypt. Wilson found a locked door with an ornate keyhole; "This could easily match that big fancy key they were carrying." He tapped the door and examined the lock. "For an old door in a disused church, the lock is well looked after."
Wilson rummaged in his coat pockets and produced his 'Swiss army knife' and set to work. He had the door open in less than a minute. Owen was impressed; "Did they teach breaking and entering in the NYPD?" Alex chuckled and followed Wilson and Owen down the worn stone steps, with Jericho closing the old door behind them. They lit the way with their mirrors and found themselves in an ancient medieval crypt, complete with resting Knights and their ladies.
"Brass rubbing anyone?" Jericho smiled at Owen who was admiring a single Knight whose effigy was in good condition. He stabbed a finger at the tomb which was placed in a far corner; "That is a fake. It's not medieval, but probably only made last century - a very good Victorian copy." Alex nodded and ran her hands across the Knight's face; "It's beautifully carved and I would agree with Owen; it doesn't appear to be medieval."
Wilson knelt and was studying the carvings around the base, he grinned and patted the stone work; "Unless my Latin is crap, this so called Knight was called Sir Charles de Mass." Owen peered over his shoulder and agreed with Wilson's translation. Alex coughed and pointed to the boot prints disappearing into base of the tomb. "I think our friends disappeared down there." She said and pulled her long coat about herself.
Wilson, still kneeling at the base, chuckled to himself; "This Cherub's little head appears to move." The base slid back revealing a set of stairs and Jericho lead his team down them.
4. SCARFELL HALL; 1792.
The music appeared to be coming from the end of the upper corridor, which had portraits and tapestries hanging from its walls. Jericho halted his team and dividing them up, each tried every door handle they came upon. All were locked; except the door to the room where the music was playing.
They stood quietly in the semi darkness and Wilson almost chuckled and whispered; "Now that is not right, that's the fucking Electric Light Orchestra from the 1970's!" Owen was already checking the music on his mirror and nodded his agreement; "The big man is right, that music is from over two hundred years in the future - its August 4th, 1792 at the present and that song is from 1974!"
Jericho turned the gilded door knob gently and slowly pushed the heavy wooden door open and the team walked quietly in. The room was beautifully furnished with the centre piece, a magnificent four poster bed with bright gold and silver curtains pulled around it. Alex pointed to an ornate dressing table and matching chair by the large bay window; upon the chair was a portable CD player, probably from the 1990's.
A gruff man's voice suddenly came from behind the curtains; "Put the drinks on the table and piss off." Everyone exchanged glances and then the curtains came apart and the head and shoulders of a big, young man appeared; he was naked and pointing a revolver straight at them. "Who the fuck are...." He managed to shout before Jericho operated his mirror and time came to a halt.
Wilson pulled the curtains apart and stared at the expansive bed; a young girl, probably still in her teens, lay face up, stark naked with her hands tied above her head and legs held open with a metal bar that was attached to each of her ankles - all around the bed lay various evil looking objects. "Torture instruments." Whispered Owen, who was clearly shocked by the sight and had to look away.
Alex knelt on the bed and touched the girls neck and nearest wrist; "She's still alive." She gently removed the metal clamps that were fastened to each breast; both had blood upon them. That's when Wilson pointed to a discarded pillow by the girls head and what was laid upon it; "The same night dress that Lucy London was found in."
Alex grabbed it up and covered the still girl, whose mouth remained contorted in a frozen scream. Jericho coughed and tapped his mirror; "According to Human Records this girl is Rosemary Hudson. She and her soul went missing in May 1874 from Barking in London - she was sixteen at the time." He rubbed his chin and nodded to Wilson and Alex to free the girl and get her covered up.
Owen suddenly clenched his fist and struck the still man full in the face and was restrained by Jericho; "That's enough boy, now help Alex get the girl wrapped in a sheet and you'll accompany her and the girl back to 1874. The mirror will take you back to her parents, before she was abducted. That way, none of what she has suffered would have happened." He turned to Alex; "Go now, she cannot die out of her own time or we'll lose her soul."
Owen tried to mutter an apology, but that was waved aside; none of his colleagues could fault the boys angry reaction. Alex half smiled; "When Jericho starts time that bastard is going to have a bloody sore face." She gripped Owen by the shoulder and together they disappeared from the room with the unconscious girl.
Wilson looked up from his mirror; "This piece of shit is George Chambers, he was a 'Footman' at Scarfell Hall in 1792 and according to Dispatches died in 1797 of smallpox. His soul was never recovered." Jericho nodded; "Must have already traded his soul because he was born in this time." He then noticed the distinctive tattoo upon the naked man's back; a snake swallowing its tail.
"A servant of the 'Dark One' - how surprising." Wilson spoke quietly and prised the pistol from the man's stiff fingers and looked it over; "From the 1940's I believe - military issue." He added and emptied four bullets from the its chamber. Jericho picked up the metal rod with ankle straps from the floor where Alex had thrown it in some disgust and smiled at Wilson.
"Oh fuck yes!" Wilson grinned and the pair pushed George Chambers back on the bed and went to work. Some minutes later they left the room and found the grand staircase to the lower floors. Half way up the stairs they came across another disturbing sight; a young maid carrying a tray with a brandy decanter and two glasses. The girl was naked apart from a thick, black leather collar and silver chains attached to her wrists and ankles - enough for her to move about, but not run or defend herself. Wilson noted the marks of a thin cane on her back and buttocks,
Jericho sighed and read his mirror; "Elizabeth Goodfellow who went missing - with her soul - from York in 1902. She was eighteen years of age." Wilson poured brandy into the two glasses and they both enjoyed a well earned drink. "Two glasses and I don't think one was for poor miss Rosemary." Jericho raised his glass in salute and both finished their drinks. They both wondered who the other glass was for.
"So we have two abducted girls from the exact years that the time line here was breached; 1874 and 1902." Wilson reasoned as they made their way down the stairs and found themselves in the great hall. The large oak dining table had been laid - quite scrumptiously - for dinner that night. "Six places are laid." Jericho picked up a plate and shrugged his shoulders; "The crest of the De Mass family." Wilson tapped the table setting nearest to him; "Why have they left such a large gap in the centre of the dinner settings, you could get a plate the size of a single bed in there?"
Jericho rubbed a hand across his face and looked quite pale. Wilson caught on, by the simple expression of utter horror, upon Jericho's face and had to lean on the table with both hands. "You have to be fucking joking, please tell me that you are fucking joking!" Jericho folded his arms; "I take it you don't want to visit the kitchens?" Both men turned and stared at the door which lead down to the kitchens.
"Come on Wilson, we don't have any bloody choice." Jericho said without emotion and both men walked slowly to that dark forbidding door and made their way to the kitchens of Scarfell Hall.
5. AN UNEXPECTED TURN FOR THE WORSE.
Both men sat on the grand stair-case and sipped brandy from the tray, in the posh crystal glasses that came with the bottle. Jericho wiped his mouth and stared back up the stairs, to the naked maid standing with empty hands - her tray was now between Jericho and Wilson - "Well, we know who Charles de Mass works for; Deseri. That evil, fucking bastard loves the taste of human flesh and he's always generous to his human minions, who please him."
Wilson drained his glass and refilled it, he almost smiled; "Well, the fucker can go hungry now." Both men sipped their brandy and looked again at the bundle next to their feet; it was Miss Alice Houseman - abducted from Manchester in 1944 - now wrapped in a clean table cloth and carried up from the kitchens, where she would have been prepared as the main course for a particularly evil demon.
Jericho sighed and pulled out his mirror; "Alexandra and Owen will return soon and I need to put a call into the Demon Ingress Department, they will be very interested in hearing about Deseri's forthcoming visit to 1792. Then we have to find the remaining abducted girls and get the hell outa here." That's when they both heard the noise at the top of the stairs above them. Wilson turned slowly and quietly placed his glass upon the floor. Jericho turned and stared at Deseri in its human form.
The big dark automobile slowed, then the driver carefully positioned it in driveway of the old church, stopping near the rear. The two men stood looking about in the derelict churchyard, then opened the rear of the car and the bigger man of the pair, slung a dirty brown carpet over his shoulder, whilst the other, much smaller, man produced a large ornate door key. They disappeared out of sight and the team quickly left their own car and made their way to the church.
They were not surprised to find the two men and their carpet had simply vanished. Jericho pulled his mirror out and studied it carefully; "Time portal in the crypt apparently." He muttered and everyone started to look for the entrance to the crypt. Wilson found a locked door with an ornate keyhole; "This could easily match that big fancy key they were carrying." He tapped the door and examined the lock. "For an old door in a disused church, the lock is well looked after."
Wilson rummaged in his coat pockets and produced his 'Swiss army knife' and set to work. He had the door open in less than a minute. Owen was impressed; "Did they teach breaking and entering in the NYPD?" Alex chuckled and followed Wilson and Owen down the worn stone steps, with Jericho closing the old door behind them. They lit the way with their mirrors and found themselves in an ancient medieval crypt, complete with resting Knights and their ladies.
"Brass rubbing anyone?" Jericho smiled at Owen who was admiring a single Knight whose effigy was in good condition. He stabbed a finger at the tomb which was placed in a far corner; "That is a fake. It's not medieval, but probably only made last century - a very good Victorian copy." Alex nodded and ran her hands across the Knight's face; "It's beautifully carved and I would agree with Owen; it doesn't appear to be medieval."
Wilson knelt and was studying the carvings around the base, he grinned and patted the stone work; "Unless my Latin is crap, this so called Knight was called Sir Charles de Mass." Owen peered over his shoulder and agreed with Wilson's translation. Alex coughed and pointed to the boot prints disappearing into base of the tomb. "I think our friends disappeared down there." She said and pulled her long coat about herself.
Wilson, still kneeling at the base, chuckled to himself; "This Cherub's little head appears to move." The base slid back revealing a set of stairs and Jericho lead his team down them.
4. SCARFELL HALL; 1792.
The music appeared to be coming from the end of the upper corridor, which had portraits and tapestries hanging from its walls. Jericho halted his team and dividing them up, each tried every door handle they came upon. All were locked; except the door to the room where the music was playing.
They stood quietly in the semi darkness and Wilson almost chuckled and whispered; "Now that is not right, that's the fucking Electric Light Orchestra from the 1970's!" Owen was already checking the music on his mirror and nodded his agreement; "The big man is right, that music is from over two hundred years in the future - its August 4th, 1792 at the present and that song is from 1974!"
Jericho turned the gilded door knob gently and slowly pushed the heavy wooden door open and the team walked quietly in. The room was beautifully furnished with the centre piece, a magnificent four poster bed with bright gold and silver curtains pulled around it. Alex pointed to an ornate dressing table and matching chair by the large bay window; upon the chair was a portable CD player, probably from the 1990's.
A gruff man's voice suddenly came from behind the curtains; "Put the drinks on the table and piss off." Everyone exchanged glances and then the curtains came apart and the head and shoulders of a big, young man appeared; he was naked and pointing a revolver straight at them. "Who the fuck are...." He managed to shout before Jericho operated his mirror and time came to a halt.
Wilson pulled the curtains apart and stared at the expansive bed; a young girl, probably still in her teens, lay face up, stark naked with her hands tied above her head and legs held open with a metal bar that was attached to each of her ankles - all around the bed lay various evil looking objects. "Torture instruments." Whispered Owen, who was clearly shocked by the sight and had to look away.
Alex knelt on the bed and touched the girls neck and nearest wrist; "She's still alive." She gently removed the metal clamps that were fastened to each breast; both had blood upon them. That's when Wilson pointed to a discarded pillow by the girls head and what was laid upon it; "The same night dress that Lucy London was found in."
Alex grabbed it up and covered the still girl, whose mouth remained contorted in a frozen scream. Jericho coughed and tapped his mirror; "According to Human Records this girl is Rosemary Hudson. She and her soul went missing in May 1874 from Barking in London - she was sixteen at the time." He rubbed his chin and nodded to Wilson and Alex to free the girl and get her covered up.
Owen suddenly clenched his fist and struck the still man full in the face and was restrained by Jericho; "That's enough boy, now help Alex get the girl wrapped in a sheet and you'll accompany her and the girl back to 1874. The mirror will take you back to her parents, before she was abducted. That way, none of what she has suffered would have happened." He turned to Alex; "Go now, she cannot die out of her own time or we'll lose her soul."
Owen tried to mutter an apology, but that was waved aside; none of his colleagues could fault the boys angry reaction. Alex half smiled; "When Jericho starts time that bastard is going to have a bloody sore face." She gripped Owen by the shoulder and together they disappeared from the room with the unconscious girl.
Wilson looked up from his mirror; "This piece of shit is George Chambers, he was a 'Footman' at Scarfell Hall in 1792 and according to Dispatches died in 1797 of smallpox. His soul was never recovered." Jericho nodded; "Must have already traded his soul because he was born in this time." He then noticed the distinctive tattoo upon the naked man's back; a snake swallowing its tail.
"A servant of the 'Dark One' - how surprising." Wilson spoke quietly and prised the pistol from the man's stiff fingers and looked it over; "From the 1940's I believe - military issue." He added and emptied four bullets from the its chamber. Jericho picked up the metal rod with ankle straps from the floor where Alex had thrown it in some disgust and smiled at Wilson.
"Oh fuck yes!" Wilson grinned and the pair pushed George Chambers back on the bed and went to work. Some minutes later they left the room and found the grand staircase to the lower floors. Half way up the stairs they came across another disturbing sight; a young maid carrying a tray with a brandy decanter and two glasses. The girl was naked apart from a thick, black leather collar and silver chains attached to her wrists and ankles - enough for her to move about, but not run or defend herself. Wilson noted the marks of a thin cane on her back and buttocks,
Jericho sighed and read his mirror; "Elizabeth Goodfellow who went missing - with her soul - from York in 1902. She was eighteen years of age." Wilson poured brandy into the two glasses and they both enjoyed a well earned drink. "Two glasses and I don't think one was for poor miss Rosemary." Jericho raised his glass in salute and both finished their drinks. They both wondered who the other glass was for.
"So we have two abducted girls from the exact years that the time line here was breached; 1874 and 1902." Wilson reasoned as they made their way down the stairs and found themselves in the great hall. The large oak dining table had been laid - quite scrumptiously - for dinner that night. "Six places are laid." Jericho picked up a plate and shrugged his shoulders; "The crest of the De Mass family." Wilson tapped the table setting nearest to him; "Why have they left such a large gap in the centre of the dinner settings, you could get a plate the size of a single bed in there?"
Jericho rubbed a hand across his face and looked quite pale. Wilson caught on, by the simple expression of utter horror, upon Jericho's face and had to lean on the table with both hands. "You have to be fucking joking, please tell me that you are fucking joking!" Jericho folded his arms; "I take it you don't want to visit the kitchens?" Both men turned and stared at the door which lead down to the kitchens.
"Come on Wilson, we don't have any bloody choice." Jericho said without emotion and both men walked slowly to that dark forbidding door and made their way to the kitchens of Scarfell Hall.
5. AN UNEXPECTED TURN FOR THE WORSE.
Both men sat on the grand stair-case and sipped brandy from the tray, in the posh crystal glasses that came with the bottle. Jericho wiped his mouth and stared back up the stairs, to the naked maid standing with empty hands - her tray was now between Jericho and Wilson - "Well, we know who Charles de Mass works for; Deseri. That evil, fucking bastard loves the taste of human flesh and he's always generous to his human minions, who please him."
Wilson drained his glass and refilled it, he almost smiled; "Well, the fucker can go hungry now." Both men sipped their brandy and looked again at the bundle next to their feet; it was Miss Alice Houseman - abducted from Manchester in 1944 - now wrapped in a clean table cloth and carried up from the kitchens, where she would have been prepared as the main course for a particularly evil demon.
Jericho sighed and pulled out his mirror; "Alexandra and Owen will return soon and I need to put a call into the Demon Ingress Department, they will be very interested in hearing about Deseri's forthcoming visit to 1792. Then we have to find the remaining abducted girls and get the hell outa here." That's when they both heard the noise at the top of the stairs above them. Wilson turned slowly and quietly placed his glass upon the floor. Jericho turned and stared at Deseri in its human form.
"Well, hello Mister Tibbs and your large black assistant is?" Deseri folded his arms and grinned. The demon was about six or seven feet tall with the body of a dedicated body builder and the features of a male model; it was a recurring theme amongst the top echelon of Demons, that they presented themselves in such a human form - well, except the female demons!
Jericho and Wilson stood without saying a word. The demon wagged a finger; "Tut Tut, Jericho - drinking my brandy and upsetting my pre-dinner entertainment with young George and the girl. I was looking forward to enjoying both of them. Then you steal my favourite dish and wrap it it up in a table cloth. Not very friendly I would say." The demon sighed and ran a hand over his face, adding; "You are well out of your depth here Inspector because I am hosting this little dinner for my boss." He grinned again as he saw the look upon the detectives faces.
"ASMODEUS!" Jericho spat the words out and he heard Wilson whisper; "Oh fuck." The demon unfolded his arms and raised them above his head; "Now you must excuse me Jericho and un-introduced black man, I have much to do." He dropped his arms and both Jericho and Wilson were gone. He slapped his hands together and smiling broadly, pushed the bundle with his foot; "Must get you back to the kitchen or dinner will be late."
George appeared at the top of the stairs, nursing a very sore face and trying to walk in the leg irons. He had pulled the nipple clamps off and had little streaks of blood on his chest. "There were four of the bastards master and one was a stunning young woman who would turn, even our master's head."
Deseri nodded; "It's a pity she wasn't with Jericho; Lady Alexandra apparently fully justifies all that is said about her. Now if that idiot De Mass had acquired her, then I would have been very happy." He clicked his fingers and the leg irons fell from George's feet. "I have restarted time, find out how many girls Jericho freed and tell De Mass to get everything ready for the visit of our Master's deputy." The two walked from the hall with real purpose. Deseri stopped in the doorway and looked about the great hall, then grunted and the pair disappeared into the lower east corridor.
Alex and Owen remained hidden in the shadows at the top of the stairs and both started to breath properly again. They exchanged grim looks and operated their mirrors; they were back at the lighthouse and ran into it, past a very disconcerted Mr. Harris, who followed them into the study. Both Alex and Owen grabbed up glasses and filled them with brandy. Alex was already operating her mirror and contacted Angel Margret's office with a very urgent message. It took James just a few minutes to arrive with a fellow Knight; Isabella and they made for the study.
Isabella was a slim young African woman of deceptive strength and character. A former nun who had worked in the leper colonies of Belgium's Congo. She had nursed the poor inflicted creatures for some years, until the colony was raided by rebels seeking food and medical supplies. The young nun refused to flee with the other medical staff and remained with the terrified men, women and children. The rebels killed many of the poor lepers and raped, then murdered the young nun. It didn't take long for the brave and dedicated young woman to join the ranks of God's Knights - and deservedly so.
The new Knight was gaining experience of her duties by accompanying a mentor like James - and she was learning fast, under the very experienced Knight.
Isabella was a slim young African woman of deceptive strength and character. A former nun who had worked in the leper colonies of Belgium's Congo. She had nursed the poor inflicted creatures for some years, until the colony was raided by rebels seeking food and medical supplies. The young nun refused to flee with the other medical staff and remained with the terrified men, women and children. The rebels killed many of the poor lepers and raped, then murdered the young nun. It didn't take long for the brave and dedicated young woman to join the ranks of God's Knights - and deservedly so.
The new Knight was gaining experience of her duties by accompanying a mentor like James - and she was learning fast, under the very experienced Knight.
Mr. Harris was in his element: he had two Knights of God to serve and he did so with his usual grace and care. Alex and Owen blurted out the story so far - between swallows of brandy - and James gripped Alex by the shoulder and calmed her down; he needed to be sure which demons were going to make an appearance at Scarfell Hall in 1792.
Isabella nodded; "Deseri is a top notch demon and minion, but he can be handled. On the other hand if Asmodeus does actually turn up, that means our Angels MUST get involved and we all know what that can mean." Alex had slumped in a chair and wiped tears from her face with the hankie Mr. Harris had given her. "What about Jericho and Wilson?" she spoke with real emotion in her voice.
James patted her shoulder; "Deseri may be an evil bastard, but he's not stupid. He's probably cast Jericho and Wilson into some kind of hell pit or place of darkness. We should be able to recover them." He turned to Isabella and sighed; "We need to bring Margret up to speed on this, if Asmodeus does appear then we will need an Angel. But if one of our angel's cross into the realm of living humans that could start Armageddon. I can't believe the 'Dark One' would allow this?"
Whilst the two knights discussed the situation, Owen turned to Alex and spoke softly; "Asmodeus is a 'Dark Angel', so he would surely know about the agreement between 'himself' and that crazy brother of his. James is right, I can't believe the 'Dark One' would allow this to happen. he's certainly not that dumb." Alex agreed and finished her drink; she had fully composed herself now. She saw the look upon James face; he was receiving instructions from Angel Margret.
James grunted and half smiled; "Margret has been given authority for a temporal raid upon the time and place - hopefully before the guest of honour turns up - the team will assemble here." That's when they heard Mr. Harris in the doorway, asking people to join the others in the study.
Temporal Detective Inspector Stella Longstreet and Team 35 had arrived as back up and support. They were accompanied by Ms. Abebi Adebayo, a very senior time controller. Mr. Harris served drinks all round with young Ruth's help. Stella gripped Alex by her hand and smiled; "We'll get the miserable gits back!" She was a big woman of about forty, dressed in a dark blue business suit with matching shoes. Stella carried a large black shoulder bag and had a plastic, transparent rain coat folded under her arm. When asked about carrying the strange item, she always said it was better than 'lugging a bloody umbrella about'.
Owen groaned to himself and held out his hand to Temporal Detective Constable James 'Jumbo' Jolly who gripped it tightly;"We'll git Jericho back mah mukker 'n' kick that demons arse." He threw the glass of whisky down his throat and Ruth re-filled it. He turned to Alex; "Dinnae fret Alex, wi' twa pumpin' knights 'n' angel Margret in keep aside fur me - juist in trial that muckle bas turns up - th' wee jimmies wull be braw." Alex thanked him for his words and then turned to Owen and whispered; "What did he just say?" Owen just shrugged his shoulders; "I don't have my translation book on me - sorry."
Isabella and Inspector Longstreet headed for the kitchens, whilst James, Alex and 'Jumbo' made for the upstairs. Owen and the rest of Team 35 waited in the great hall. The upstairs corridor was an equal mess to the great hall - all the doors were open - some lay on the floor. Alex took James and 'Jumbo' to the room they found Rosemary Hudson; it was wrecked. Then Alex spotted the body by the bed; it was the footman George Chambers, laying face upwards - it wasn't a pleasant sight. "No soul." Alex muttered and James nodded; "His soul wasn't taken by our side." He said unsmiling.
Alex took a deep breath; only a Tier One demon could take the souls of living humans, she clutched her mirror, then noticed 'Jumbo' was holding out his little glass orb which was dark, blood red. "Thir's a muckle poweful pumpin' demon hingin aroond this bloody steid." Alex didn't need to translate what 'Jumbo' was saying: the orb said it all. Something more powerful than even a dark Angel was in the house.
Very slowly, the three turned back to the doorway. He was standing quietly by the broken door; a tall young man in a cream coloured, high quality, three piece suit. He slowly removed his matching 'Panama' hat and smiled; "Well, Lady Alexandra, you have to be one of the most beautiful human females I have ever had the pleasure to meet." He gave a slight bow, then smiled at James.
Alex and 'Jumbo' were a little stunned to see James bow quite low to the strange young man. "Alex and 'Jumbo', may I have the honour of introducing you to David, our master's youngest brother." Alex managed a very nervous curtsey, whilst 'Jumbo' bowed low. "Sweet Jesus...." Alex whispered, but James interrupted her; "Close but no, this is his Uncle."
He walked across to 'David' and the pair shook hands. David smiled and replaced his hat; "My brother sent me a message about what Inspector Tibbs had discovered, before that idiot Deseri could destroy our little agreement. I've already dealt with Asmodeus; he's on holiday for a while." David walked across and stood in front of Alex; he ran a hand gently against her trembling face. "I have some beautiful human females in my harem. I call them 'my little princesses' - but you could easily be a Queen." He turned to James and grinned broadly; "My brother did ask what I wanted for my birthday. I could always ask for..." Then he saw the bemused look upon James face and still smiling, he bowed a little to Alex and walked back to James.
Alex was actually shaking - she had felt the power, in just that simple brush of his hand upon her face - and then 'Jumbo' gripped her hand quite tightly; "Dinna fash yirsel lassie, th' gaffer wouldn't haun ye ower, sae dinna fash yirsel." He whispered and grinned. Again, Alex didn't need a translator for what 'Jumbo' meant.
David pointed to the late George chambers and actually chuckled; "That idiot tired to whack me with a damn poker even after I dispatched his master back home [Deseri]. So I let them go together. But one of the mob is still missing; you know him as Charles De Mass. I believe he used a portable time portal hidden about his person to disappear." David brushed down his immaculate jacket and sighed; "You'll find the remaining girls huddled in a makeshift dungeon under the stables."
Alex and 'Jumbo' both headed for the door; "I'll get hold of Inspector Longstreet and we'll search for them." Alex spoke softly and curtsied again. 'Jumbo' just grunted and also headed for the door. Alex was going to leave with some real relief, then she remembered Jericho and Wilson. She stopped in the doorway and spoke to 'David' directly, with real concern in her voice; "What about Inspector Tibbs and Sergeant Franklyn?"
"Much as I would like to rid myself of the interfering Mr. Tibbs and his far too loyal side-kick; I will return them, if you ask me Alexandra, as a favour to yourself." He really did smile at that. Alex saw the look upon James face, but nevertheless, she asked quietly if he would return the pair as a personal favour to her.
The 'Dark Prince' smiled broadly and simply clicked his fingers. Jericho and Wilson lay sprawled on the bedroom carpet - the smell was terrible. Alex grabbed a hankie to her face and coughed. 'Jumbo' groaned and held a hand over his mouth; the stench from the pair on the floor was overwhelming.
Jericho and Wilson staggered to their feet and stared at David - they both knew who exactly he was. He actually chuckled and waved a hand at the pair and they were restored to their usual clean and tidy state; the stench was gone.
David turned to James, still smiling; "Deseri does have a curious sense of humour - one of the things I do like about him - he cast the pair into a medieval cess pit that was being used to bury plague victims; the local cemeteries in old Paris were almost full at the time."
Alex embraced both Jericho and Wilson with equal affection, whilst 'Jumbo' slapped them on the back and said something quite unfathomable. Even David had no idea what he said and was quite puzzled by that; as he spoke every human language that ever existed!
He shook hands again with James and was gone. Owen came through the door shouting about finding the remaining missing girls - Inspector Longstreet was arranging their return to their own times. He saw Jericho and Wilson and like Alex did, embraced them with some affection.
James smiled broadly at the reunion and the team returned to the lighthouse - the great raid that never was; had ended. Owen was a little peeved that he had missed meeting 'the Devil', but was not surprised by the 'Dark One's' attraction to Alex - and Wilson agreed, he muttered on finding out; "a bloody big moth to the flame."
7. IN PURSUIT OF SIR CHARLES DE MASS.
Wilson rubbed his face slowly and accepted a glass of brandy from Owen and eased himself onto the sofa. "I'm just wondering how our Miss London escaped from Scarfell Hall using the time portal in the cellars [now closed by James] and ended up in 2011?" He shifted in the chair and then smiled as Alex dropped into her favourite armchair by the fire. "Well, James has ordered Jericho to go after old Charlie De Mass, but what flipping time did he escape to?" She sighed, then her smile dropped, adding; "How did young Lucy escape - we all saw how they were restrained?"
Wilson grunted; " How did she know where a bloody time portal was? We need to know more about that young lady. I think we need to speak to her before we go chasing old Charlie." Jericho pushed through the study door and smiled; "Your quite right Wilson, we're heading back to 2011 and we're going to do a little abduction of our own."
Owen nodded; "We need to return her to 1921 - before she was grabbed and stake out that old church. It doesn't exist after 1951; it was demolished after laying in ruins for nearly fifty years. The old church yard and church grounds are a Urban Wildlife Centre in 2011. But the crypt is still there as part of the wildlife centre and is open to visitors."
Jericho grinned; "I think Owen wants to go brass rubbing...." He was interrupted by an apparently shocked Wilson, who blurted out; "You mean that our little pervert now wants to go arse rubbing!" and shook his head in disbelief. Owen sighed loudly and stuck up a single finger to Wilson; "Open your ears, you piss taking git - the boss said BRASS rubbing." Alex chuckled; "Now, now children, lets play nicely please."
The group laughed quietly and Jericho pointed to the door; "It's back to 2011 and that hospital, its should be visiting time." The team headed for the light room and appeared in Scarfell Royal Infirmary. They made their way to Ward 7 and the private room which contained Miss Lucy London.
They were in for a big surprise - she wasn't there.
Jericho hung his plastic 'Press' card about his neck, as did Wilson, who carried a couple of camera's. Owen and Alex stood back. Alex struck up a conversation with a young student nurse in the Sluice Room, while they waited. Jericho was informed, not very politely, by the nurse on the Ward's Reception desk that all enquires about the young woman had to be addressed to the local Police Station.
Owen coughed and whispered to Jericho that there had been a breech of the time line right here, two days ago, and a pair of humans had jumped to 1971. Jericho nodded and they left the reception area for the hospitals canteen, but the date the pair had jumped to, kept popping into Jericho's sharp mind and he couldn't think why.
They gathered together in the canteen and enjoyed some tea and biscuits. Alex smiled a little; "Young Grace, the student nurse, tells me that the still unknown young woman [to current living humans] had simply vanished from her guarded room, right under the noses of a nurse and a uniformed constable, a couple of nights ago. No trace has been found of her and she must be walking around in her hospital gown. There is a major police search on for her." Alex sipped her tea and stole the last custard cream biscuit from Owen's plate - he was not happy about that and sulked for a couple of hours.
Jericho sat unsmiling, rubbing his chin; "So the story is, that the young woman awoke from a coma, grabbed what she could and only wearing a hospital gown, slipped past a policeman and a nurse who were suppose to be watching her. Then walked quietly from the hospital with no-one seeing anything. I don't think so."
Wilson sipped his coffee and looked quite grim; "I don't like to be the first to mention this, but that evil pervert De Mass is still at large. You don't think he came back to reclaim what he thinks is his own." Jericho folded his arms and nodded his agreement with that, then glanced at the table opposite them. The woman in a dull grey coat who sat there, suddenly smiled quite broadly at him. Jericho rubbed his chin; she seemed quite familiar, where had he seen her before?
Mrs. Kath Warrington placed her cup down and leaned back in her chair. She spoke quietly; "The last time I met you Mr. Tibbs was when I was just eight years old and only my grandmother and I could see you and that wonderful dwarf with the big smile. Do you remember?"
Jericho snapped his fingers and smiled; "Young Katherine Crabb!"
Kath smiled and nodded her head; "Now Mrs. Warrington, your very pretty assistant was just speaking to my daughter Grace about the missing girl. She has the gift - she could see that all four of you were not alive - well, not like real living humans. Soon as she described you, I knew it was you."
Jericho turned to his team; "Kath's grandmother and her mum, were genuine 'Passer's' and the gift has clearly manifested in Kath and her daughter. I dealt with Kath and her grandmother some years previously." He turned back to Kath; "It was a séance that went wrong, if I remember, up at Scarfell Hall. Oscar and I had to call in a Guardian for the bloody demon that had gate crashed the séance."
Kath smiled; "Gran realised that I could see you and your friend, when you walked her back to the car. I was sitting in the back, if I remember correctly. You know that she never did another one after that. She certainly took your advice." Kath suddenly shuffled nearer on the chair and her voice dropped to just above a whisper, as she looked about.
"You know him as Sir Charles De Mass who lived in the late Eighteenth century up at Scarfell Hall, but he now lives around here, in this very time. I recognised him from a small portrait that hangs in the local museum and like yourselves, could see that he didn't belong amongst the current living." She shuffled in the 'Asda' shopping bag that lay on the floor, near her chair and pulled a paperback book from it. She handed the book to Jericho and half smiled, adding; "It wasn't that successful - but the jacket picture is interesting."
Kath rose and tapped Jericho upon the shoulder, with some affection; "Say hello to that wonderful little chap for me - he did make me laugh as a little girl." She said her farewells to the team and walked quietly away. Jericho turned the paperback around in his hands and held the rear cover up to his team.
"Well, he's shaved his beard and cut his hair, acquired a pair of spectacles - but that certainly looks like the dirty bastard." Owen muttered; it appears that Sir Charles De Mass had set himself up as a historian at Rutland University and basically written his own biography! The book jacket informed them that the historian; a certain Charles Manson, was an expert on the 19th century. Wilson grunted; "A very appropriate nom de plume I would think." Everyone agreed on that.
Owen held up his mirror and said quietly; "He lives not far from here, but we're going to need a car I suspect; to travel incognito." Jericho nodded and told Owen to order one from Supplies.
"Guess where we are going." Jericho said simply and the team rose as one and headed for the canteen doors.
8. NOTHING IS EVER QUITE WHAT IT SEEMS.
"At least Supplies has given us a bloody decent car this time." Wilson actually smiled a little as he drove the Volvo estate down the quiet road. Alex sighed; "We drive on the right hand side of the road in this Country and time period." She gripped her seat as Wilson moved back onto the right side of the road - much to the relief of Owen, who now opened his eyes. Jericho just chuckled and relaxed, consulting his mirror. "About another twenty minutes and the historian Charlies Manson's cottage will be off a little dirt road. He certainly has picked an isolated place to reside in - again."
The cottage was a little masterpiece of 19th century construction and stood in its own well tended grounds. Wilson stopped the car some yards from the black iron gates. A large grey padlock and chain was wrapped around the closed gates. Everyone could see the single security camera above the them; "That's why I parked back here." Muttered Wilson and turned to Jericho, adding; "Anyone home?" Jericho nodded, tapping his mirror; "One living human - a woman." Alex didn't smile; "I think we can all guess who that might be."
"Well she's certainly moving about the place with some freedom; I think she's doing yoga or something." Jericho looked up from his mirror and leaned back in his seat, Alex noticed the expression upon his face and half smiled; "You've just thought of something, haven't you?" Jericho sighed and told Owen to check how many women were reported missing on the day Lucy London was snatched - and where they went missing from.
Owen sat quietly reading his mirror and Alex stared at the quiet cottage, then something caught her sharp eyes; "The door on the stable block [converted into a double garage] is now open, I'd swear they were both closed when we pulled up." Jericho grunted and read his mirror again; "You have a great pair of eyes Alexandra, there's a human in there alright - a male." Everyone watched the garages - but no-one emerged. "She doesn't only have a great pair of eyes, but a great..." The not so gentle slap on the back of his head by Alex, prevented Owen from finishing his sentence. He returned to his mirror - grinning.
"Your not going to believe what I've just found out about the afternoon Lucy London was abducted, there was another girl reported as missing; a certain Miss Jane Calder, aged nineteen and she disappeared in London...." Owen was interrupted by Jericho, this time, who smiled; "Pull up an image of her please."
Owen worked his mirror for about a minute, then sat back; the look on his face was priceless. He slowly held it up for everyone to see. Wilson nodded; "She could easily pass for Miss London, same features - they could be sisters." Owen sighed; "Her soul is missing - she's never been collected and her dispatch date was September 5th, 1957. She was suppose to die in a bus accident in Sheffield but obviously never turned up for that little adventure."
Jericho eased back in the cars comfortable rear seat and chuckled; "Nothing is ever quite what it seems." Wilson looked a little puzzled; "What have you come up with?" He asked. Jericho folded his arms; "We all saw what we expected to see, back in 1921. The mirrors were set for a body search of Miss Lucy London and sure enough, they took us to where her living body was. Apparently we see her abducted by two men; but only one left the car to grab the girl. The other remained sitting at the wheel - nothing odd there - a 'getaway' driver would be needed to speed immediately from the scene. But here's the best bit; it wasn't Lucy London we saw being snatched, but her doppelganger: Miss Calder, who we believed, was Lucy herself because she is so similar to her. That was our error; to accept what we saw at face value. We went to see a girl supposedly abducted and that's what we got. - we didn't question what we thought we saw."
"That sounds fine; but the mirrors could not make such a mistake - they would have definitely taken us to Lucy's living body." Wilson argued and Alex and Owen agreed with him. Jericho grinned broadly; "You are quite right and the mirrors did take us to the living body of Miss London; she was there alright, but she certainly wasn't dragged into the car - that would be quite impossible."
Owen took a deep breath; "Why is that SO impossible?" Jericho raised both hands and grinned again; "She was already in the car; she was driving the bloody thing!"
There was silence for a few seconds, then Wilson slapped his hand against the side of his head; His voice sounded a little angry - with himself; "That's fucking so obvious now. At the old church, the second man with the key was tiny compared to his burly friend; a woman disguised as a man. How the fuck did we miss that?" No -one answered.
"I strongly suspect that Lucy London already knew Charlies De Mass before they grabbed Miss Calder and had already been time travelling with him - probably back to 1792 - on various occasions. He was the burly man who grabbed the girls [including Miss Calder] and I have no doubt that Lucy helped him with his perverted little hobby. They made one big mistake; they didn't know that we would jump back to 1921 and search for Lucy's living body at that time." Jericho accepted the hip-flask from Alex and took a sip, he continued.
"At some point in their relationship, Lucy decided to stay with de Mass and so she disappeared with him in 1921. But I also strongly suspect that something went terribly wrong between the two and Lucy only just managed to escape with her life - and found herself in 2011 and I think that date is significant, but I don't know why - yet. She would never have thought, that Temporal Detectives would use the fake disappearance date [1921] to start the search for her and stumble upon the pair actually taking another girl. She wouldn't know that our mirrors would take us back to her last visit to good old 1921 London and catch her in the act; that was pure co-incidence, but a lucky break for us."
Wilson sat with his arms folded; there was silence in the car as Jericho spoke softly. "Lucy London is found on that muddy Moor, just a mile from Scarfell Hall and its evil reputation, beaten and abused. We discover that some ninety years ago she was reported missing and so she's a lost soul - out of her time - and the name she whispers; Charles De Mass has us hooked because we know the sort of man he is. So we quickly made 2 + 2 equal 7. We now know more facts about the case and I believe Lucy London is as guilty as De Mass."
Alex pushed back in her seat and slowly sipped her hip-flask and handed it over to Owen. She sounded quite angry as she spoke; "So that little bitch stood by, well, actually assisted the beast to abuse those young girls. It makes me feel
sick that a woman could do that." Everyone agreed with Alex's statement.
Owen stared down at his mirror, then looked up; "But where the hell is Jane Calder? She wasn't at Scarfell Hall - we freed all the girls found there. So what happened to her?" Jericho patted young Owen's arm; "Do the maths Owen; how many of the time breeches do we have recorded for Scarfell Hall - all returning to 1792 and how many girls did we find there?"
Owen coughed; "Well there was nine breeches - ten if you count Lucy's return in 2011 - if you don't, then its nine and we recovered seven girls from the old Hall. so we have two girls missing - that's if they bought back one victim each time."
Alex spoke softly; "We know that Lucy is no longer one of the missing girls, so that means we have two girls uncounted for and one must be this Jane Calder. But who the hell is the other poor cow?" Wilson folded his arms and stared at the cottage; "Maybe old Charlie has another little place set up in another time?" he turned to Jericho and smiled; "I suppose we had better find out who's the man in the old Stable block and who is the woman in the cottage."
Jericho nodded and the team started to leave the car when Jericho's mirror buzzed - then all their mirrors buzzed. "I've just seen a bright flash of light in the old stables!" Alex shouted and everyone saw that the mirrors had picked up the activation of a 'Time-portal' very close by. "The bastard must have seen us and jumped!" Wilson shouted and headed for the padlocked gate; it took him less than a minute to open the padlock. "He certainly missed his calling; he should have been a professional burglar." Commented Owen as he helped Wilson swing open the gates.
"Check out the garages." Jericho indicated to Alex and Owen, while he and Wilson made for the cottage's front door. It opened before they reached it and the young woman stood unsmiling; dressed in a tight dark leotard with a clean white towel draped around her shoulders, she had clearly been working out. Both men noticed the bruises about her face and shoulders - they were fresh.
Jericho sighed loudly; this was something that he didn't expect - not even in his wildest thoughts. He stared at the girl and said quietly; "Hello Grace." With real disappointment in his voice.
9. LOVE, TIME TRAVEL & SOME MURDER.
Young grace walked back into the spacious and quite comfortable lounge and sat on the large black leather sofa; she indicated for Jericho and Wilson to sit down. Jericho shook his head with some sadness; "Alexandra is going to be very disappointed in you Grace - she actually quite liked you - never mind what your mother will say." Grace shrugged her shoulders and half smiled; "Everyone has secrets Jericho, some are a lot darker than most, my dear Great Grandmother certainly had a few - like murder and arson."
Alex and Owen appeared in the doorway and both Wilson and Jericho could see the look upon Alex's face. Grace indicated for them to sit down; she smiled broadly at Alex and received a grim look in reply. Owen did grin, Grace was sitting on the sofa with her legs a little open and the leotard didn't hide much. "Don't look like that Alex, we can't help what we are." Grace rose and walked to the ornate table by the bookshelf and opened a rare bottle of brandy. Alex said nothing and sat down next to Wilson on the smaller black leather sofa opposite Grace.
Everyone could see the cane marks upon her very exposed buttocks and the top of her legs. "Brandy all round?" She asked and pulled the cork from the bottle. "You said murder and arson Grace; who's?" Jericho asked and gripped his mirror in his coat pocket. Grace turned and smiled; "Old Charlie De Mass and that slut Lucy London of course." She poured herself a large brandy in a beautiful crystal glass and sipped it slowly. Strangely, for the team, no-one accepted her generous offer of brandy.
Jericho nodded and rubbed a hand across his chin; "The fire that destroyed Scarfell Hall in 1971. Two bodies found in the deserted east wing that couldn't be identified, the police [at the time] believed they were squatters who may have started the fire accidentally and were killed. They are both buried in un-marked graves. Are you saying that the pair were Charles De Mass and Lucy London?"
Grace nodded; "My old great grandmother knew both of them and they thought she was a friend who would help them hide out there for a couple of weeks. But she hated De Mass because...." Grace wiped her lips and smiled, she continued; "Well, my dear old granny was quite a pretty little thing back then. But you would know that Jericho; you met her a couple of years before the fire. De Mass thought so too and he and that slut persuaded her into threesomes and orgies. She found that she was pregnant and de Mass just laughed in her face. One night they had a serious orgy and while everyone slept, my plucky old granny set the house alight. Those two made no effort to escape because they were unconscious on the floor - she had drugged the pair with tainted whisky. The others who took part couldn't exactly rush to the police; now could they?"
Jericho just nodded at her words and turned to Owen; "Call up Miss Lucy London's scheduled departure date please." Owen tapped at his mirror and said quietly; "It was February 14th 1973 in Malta, where she had retired to." Jericho allowed himself a small smile; "And her soul is still posted as missing?" Owen nodded and then tapped his mirror; "But that can't be right, I mean, being killed in a fire in 1971. That would mean she died within her own time cycle - albeit a little earlier. Her soul would have been collected because she wouldn't be out of her own time."
Jericho clicked his fingers and smiled; "So it wasn't Lucy that died in the fire - no souls were collected from either of those two unknown people. They had either already traded them or they were both out of their own times - that's somewhat interesting." Grace said nothing, but sipped her brandy. Wilson grunted; "One could have been Charles De Mass; he would have certainly been out of his time cycle, but who was the other?"
"I take it that the child your great grandmother had was your grandmothers brother Peter who died a few days after birth - he jumped immediately being a child at death." Grace nodded, but again said nothing; she was still a little shocked that her great grandmother had killed the wrong girl - how could that be?"
Owen managed to stop staring at Graces bulging crotch in her tight leotard and spoke to Jericho; "It could be Jane Calder - the lookalike - if she died in 1971 she would certainly be out of her time; remember her departure date was 1957." Jericho chuckled; "I think we've been spun quite a tale. The two that died in the fire was neither De Mass or Lucy; they are still around somewhere. Grace could tell us where they jumped to, but I suspect she will not - come on, lets go, there's nothing more we can do here."
Grace walked over to the still open door and quietly bid the temporal detectives goodbye. The team gathered in the car and shared their hip-flasks amongst themselves. Finally, Owen just had to ask; "How the hell could you know that the two burnt bodies were not Jane or De Mass and who jumped from the garages?"
Jericho smiled; "Anyone fancy visiting a real live orgy?" They all started to laugh and Jericho operated his mirror and the team appeared in 1971 - just a few minutes walk from Scarfell Hall. There were several cars parked outside the old east wing; which had lights showing from several windows. The sound of music and voices were escaping from the open windows. "If its a fucking orgy, they are not being very discrete about it." Muttered Wilson.
The team were a little amazed when Jericho simply knocked at the front door, which was opened by 'Little Bo-Peep' [without any sheep] who smiled broadly at the group. "Love those costumes, but who the hell have you come as?" She asked; waving them inside. Jericho grinned; "Time travellers." He said and they followed the girl into the fancy dress party which was in full swing.
Frankenstein handed them drinks and certainly took a particular interest in Alex. Owen couldn't take his eyes off the young blond girl dressed as a 'French Maid' - until Wilson slapped his back; "Come on, we're working you know." But he did smile.
Jericho called them together by the home bar and spoke quietly; "The two bodies were found in a bedroom down the small, lower floor corridor. That's where we're headed." Everyone made their way to the corridor individually - to avoid arousing suspicion from the other guests. "So, no bloody orgy - just a fancy dress party." Owen sounded quite disappointed. Alex really had a job to extract herself from the attentions of 'Frankenstein' - but she made it.
In the quiet corridor, Jericho stopped them by a closed door and held up his mirror; "They are inside." He again, just simply, knocked and waited for the door to open. There was no answer and so he tried the handle and pushed open the door, everyone stood staring at the two bodies slumped upon the floor. There was silence for a few seconds, then Wilson sighed loudly; "Henry the fucking Eighth and Queen Cleopatra appear to be stone dead." Jericho indicated for Alex to check the bodies, and instructed Owen to check Dispatches about the deaths.
Alex and Wilson knelt by the bodies and Alex actually let out a little yelp as she turned 'Cleopatra' over. It was young Grace Warrington - the girl they had been just talking to in 2011. No one recognised the young man laying dead next to her. Owen spoke softly; "We all know the girl; no soul was collected because she was out of her own time - she hadn't even been born yet. The young man is shown as Gerrard Kelly who was suppose to die in March, 2031. He should have been killed on duty in his Panda car, when it was struck by a heavy lorry whilst attending an road traffic accident. He was a Police Officer in 2011 and he is also out of his time; so no soul."
Alex sighed and stood up; "Both poisoned I think, there's no obvious wounds or marks upon them - well, young Grace still has whip and cane marks on her back, legs and bum which are quite fresh. I suspect that these two were the nurse and police man watching over Lucy when she disappeared from the hospital."
Jericho nodded; "Just to keep you all in the picture, you'll find that the young man was also the first uniform policeman who appeared, so quickly on the Moor, the day Lucy was discovered."
"He also must have been the man in the garages, who used a time controller to escape." Owen said and checked his mirror again for any updates. But Jericho just smiled; "No he wasn't - that dubious honour belonged to someone else."
Everyone turned to Jericho, who told Wilson to - very carefully - to check the bodies for a time controller. Wilson found a small ancient Egyptian statue of the Goddess isis in the man's pocket - his mirror warned him that it contained a time portal. He carefully removed the small figurine and wrapped it in a discarded pillow case.
Jericho suddenly turned to the doorway and said loudly; "You best come in, the arson bit of your plan must still go ahead. We don't want any more changes to the current human time line, now do we John or should I call you by some of your other alias, like Charles Manson or Charles De Mass?"
John Crabb lowered the large old pistol and actually smiled. "My Master Deseri always said you were a smart bastard Jericho. The Great Master really should have left you in that cess pit."
10. DARKNESS OF A TROUBLED SOUL.
Jericho nodded but didn't smile; "I could spin a tale about what happened, but it would contain a few omissions from the real story, so why don't you tell us - then it would be first hand." John chuckled and pushed the pistol into his coat pocket. He stared down at the two bodies that Alex and Owen were covering with sheets from the bed. He jerked a thumb at them and with no remorse in his voice said; "The little bitch and her boyfriend betrayed me - after I showed such favour to both - but I kept that little fact concealed and they were more than happy to attend the 'orgy' I had arranged. They loved the idea of a fancy dress sex party. Except it wasn't - just a party thrown for my normal friends. I lured them to this room and killed the pair with poisoned whisky." He pointed to an empty bottle of 'Johnny Walker' thrown on the floor.
"The fire would have destroyed any evidence of poisoning - just like a good cremation would." He pulled a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one up. He gestured towards the dead; "It was a pity about young Grace, she enjoyed the beatings, she loved a little S & M and getting fucked in the arse by her dear Uncle. I had her first when she just thirteen - a really good little slave slut."
Alex actually groaned; "You had sex with your own niece. You really are a sick bastard." She had her hand over her mouth, adding; "I think I'm going to be sick." Wilson gripped her arm gently; "I don't think that's the worse of it."
John waved the cigarette about slowly and smiled; "I met Lucy in 1921 and she fell for me straight away. She loved the whole idea of the Knight travelling through time, my effigy in the church's crypt - which I had made in 1841 and paid the corrupt Vicar considerable money to have it placed there, to cover the time portal that existed." He sighed; "To her I WAS Sir Charles De Mass and she loved me so much that she was happy to take part in my little, painful games." He walked to a small chair by the big window and sat down, he stared out the window and was silent for a few moments.
"Lucy decided to come with me and I thought...well, kill two birds with one stone, so we grabbed another girl that I picked off the street and jumped back to the old Hall. I suppose you saw that." He finished his cigarette and threw it upon the floor. "She was a good lure for the other girls, they relaxed with her - thought they were safe with another woman about - she really liked to use the cane alot on them. We had some gret times, jumping from time to time; collecting girls and followers." He hung his head and wiped his face.
"Then Deseri showed up and we became worshippers of the Great Master; he showered money and power upon me - if I did his bidding - which I did with little resistance. Then it started to go wrong with that bloody séance in 1969. My mother Grace actually managed to summon up another bloody demon - a minor one that had fallen out with Deseri and thought he could have a little fun with his followers. Well, you sorted that one out Jericho, you and that crazy dwarf. But it meant that Deseri came across Lucy and the shit really did hit the fan."
He stood up and leaned against the cold fireplace. There was silence for some time. Jericho asked quietly; "What happened to Lucy?"
John folded his arms; "I had to let him...I had no choice... but to give Lucy to him and the other girl I snatched, when Lucy came with me. Deseri thought they were sisters and liked the idea of having both. But he went too far in his passion." John wiped his face again and lit yet another cigarette, then continued; "He was way too rough and the other girl died. He had seriously injured Lucy and I knew I had to get her proper medical care - there was none in 1792. So I grabbed Lucy and jumped home to 2011 - I didn't want her to die."
He stared again at the bodies beneath the white sheets; "I knew two of my Devil's Convent followers would help me - my niece Grace and her stupid boyfriend - So I arranged for Gerrard to be first on scene and Grace to sit with Lucy at the hospital. I placed Lucy on the Moor after the heavy rains and grabbed my dog. I had not reckoned on young Peter turning up at exactly the same time with his bloody hound. So I had to play the scene out."
He folded his arms and sighed; "Whilst Grace sat with Lucy, she found out that I was really Charles De Mass and she felt betrayed. I hadn't told her about the other girls and especially about my passion for Lucy. Grace was a clever, evil little fucker and so she spirited away Lucy, with the help of her boyfriend. I was there that morning, you arrived at my cottage. I had given Grace a good hiding, I wanted to know what the pair had done with Lucy; but couldn't finish the job because of your arrival."
He suddenly grinned; "I take it, that she spun the tale about her Great grandmother being responsible for the deaths and fire at Scarfell Hall?" Jericho nodded; Yes. His smile broadened; "There was some truth in the story - well, the bit about Charles de Mass knocking up her great Grandmother, when she was a young woman in 1969. But I didn't know who the bodies were in 1971, when I was at this very party. Funny that?"
Alex slumped upon the edge of the bed and shook her head; "You had sex with your Grandmother; I'm going to vomit." John just smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "She was a good looking woman back then...and it was the seventies."
"Where's Lucy now?" Wilson asked and glanced at his mirror. John raised his hands; "I honestly don't know; i suppose she must be dead now and those two fuckers got rid of the body." He turned back to the window and muttered; "We had one strange thing happen when we jumped to 1888, the girl we grabbed wasn't quite..." he never finished because Jericho interrupted him.
Jericho pushed his fingers through his dark hair; he had heard enough. They had recovered the time controlling device, restored several souls back to their proper times and unmasked a time travelling sex offender. They had also removed a senior demon from the scene - for now. "That's enough for us. This is still your proper time - even if your only six years old presently - but you will be returned to 2011 and without the time controller you will stay put. The time portal in the crypt has also been closed. The Police I have no doubt, will look into the disappearance of your niece and her boyfriend. I strongly suspect that they will want to speak to you." Jericho operated his mirror and the team returned to the Lighthouse.
Alex pushed through the study door and sat in her favourite armchair by the fire; she unfurled a tabloid newspaper and offered it to Jericho who placed his brandy glass down and started to read. He chuckled slightly and also placed it down upon the small coffee table. Owen and Wilson appeared with the reclusive John following behind.
Owen dropped on the sofa and grinned; "You'll never guess what I found out about the infamous Sir Charles de Mass aka John Crabb?" Alex smiled and tapped the paper; "Jericho and I were just reading the story in a newspaper from 2014. very interesting it was." Owen sighed; "So you know that John Crabb's sister Katherine gave evidence against him over her missing daughter. The whole filthy story of sadistic incest came out."
Wilson chuckled; "It couldn't have happened to a more deserving fellow." He accepted a glass of brandy from Mr. Harris and raised his glass; "Human justice - too late and too little - as usual." Owen laughed at that, then turned back to Alex; "Apparently it was quite rare in British Law to be found guilty of murder with no bodies found. He received two 'whole life' sentences - I think that means, he's inside until he dies."
Alex turned to Jericho; "Do you think that his sister knew something, when she gave that paperback to you; with her brother's picture on the rear and we then knew he was the historian Charles Manson?" Owen chipped in; "Do you think it was belated revenge?"
Jericho held up his hands and sighed; "I think she knew something and it was her that he sexually assaulted when they were teenagers." Alex groaned and slumped back in her chair; "He had sex with his niece, his bloody Grandmother and tried it on with his own sister!" She jumped up and headed for the drinks tray, adding; "I need a bloody brandy."
"You always need a bloody brandy." Wilson chuckled.
EPILOGUE:
"Despite this being quite a complex mission, the Team managed a satisfactory result. The Dark Prince saved Jericho's and Wilson from a particularly nasty fate; as a favour to Alexandra. He [Prince David] has clearly a 'thing' for her. That would result in some trouble for the Team and Alexandra, in the future."
W.A.S.
CHARACTERS:
Miss Lucy London's soul remains missing to this day and her body has never been recovered. The two people who could have shed some light upon this, both died out of their own times and so their souls could not be questioned.
John Crabb [aka Sir Charles De Mass/Charles Manson] died in Doncaster prison in May 2024. His soul was collected and processed; it remains in quarantine for at least another five centuries.
Miss Jane Calder remains a missing soul and her body has never been recovered.
Grace Warrington was murdered by John Crabb in 1971 and her body destroyed by the fire that swept Scarfell Hall that very night. She was a human out of her own time and so her soul is missing. The case remains unresolved.
Constable Gerrard Kelly [Grace's boyfriend & lover] was also murdered by John Crabb and his body was also destroyed by the fire at Scarfell Hall in 1971. He was a human out of his own time and so his soul is missing. The case remains unresolved.
Katherine Warrington [John Crabb's sister] never forgave her brother about her daughter Grace and didn't even attend his funeral in 2024. She continued to search for her daughter's body until she died in 2031 from cancer. Her soul was collected and processed.
All the other victims of John Crabb were returned to their own times; before their abductions and lived out their lives as pre-ordained - apart from one who has never been identified or traced.
The Scarfell Hall footman; George Chambers, who was dispatched to Hell on the express orders of the 'Dark Prince' is now a Senior Minion of the Devil. He has sworn 'bloody revenge' on Jericho Tibbs.
Deseri [the senior demon] is back in favour with his Dark Prince and it's believed he has set up other institutions like Scarfell Hall - temporal detectives and the Knights of God are on his trail.
Isabella is now a fully fledged Knight of God and has worked with Jericho and team 74 on many occasions. it is rumoured that she particularly likes Detective Sergeant Wilson Franklyn - but it's just rumours....
Inspector John Vine was commended for bringing John Crabb to justice, it was his last big case - he died of complications from pneumonia - in the summer of 2013. No soul was collected and the case was assigned to Temporal Inspector Lutz Gromann and Team 19- it awaits resolution.
Sergeant Olive Roberts was never promoted above the rank of Detective Sergeant and remained in service until her retirement in 2028. She never married or had children; she died in 2047 at a Hospice in North Yorkshire - the sole mourner at her funeral who wasn't Hospice staff - was a representative of Yorkshire Police. Her soul was collected and processed.
Professor Rose Carthday was stunned by the nightdresses condition; it had been made in the 1780's and looked brand new. She never saw another one like it. She remained a professor at the Victoria & Albert Museum until ill-health forced her to retire in 2023. She died in 2025 and her soul soul was collected and processed.
Doctor Ali Khan had worked at the hospital for several years. Then one morning he arrived at his usual time, spoke to his secretary and had a coffee in the hospital restaurant. He hung himself in the boiler house, and was found a day or so later by maintenance staff. No soul was collected. the case is being investigated by Inspector Lutz Gromann and Team 19. They are also investigating the Late Inspector John Vine. It is believed the two 'no souls' showing for the men are linked. They certainly knew each other. It awaits resolution.
One strange incident remains a mystery; there was a breech of the time line, traced to the ruins of Scarfell Hall on Christmas Day 1971 - just months after the fatal fire. This was strange because all the time portals found had been closed - one human crossed from that year to London - in the year 1888.
SPECIAL APPEARANCE BY Prince David, the Dark Prince, as himself.
Whilst the two knights discussed the situation, Owen turned to Alex and spoke softly; "Asmodeus is a 'Dark Angel', so he would surely know about the agreement between 'himself' and that crazy brother of his. James is right, I can't believe the 'Dark One' would allow this to happen. he's certainly not that dumb." Alex agreed and finished her drink; she had fully composed herself now. She saw the look upon James face; he was receiving instructions from Angel Margret.
James grunted and half smiled; "Margret has been given authority for a temporal raid upon the time and place - hopefully before the guest of honour turns up - the team will assemble here." That's when they heard Mr. Harris in the doorway, asking people to join the others in the study.
Temporal Detective Inspector Stella Longstreet and Team 35 had arrived as back up and support. They were accompanied by Ms. Abebi Adebayo, a very senior time controller. Mr. Harris served drinks all round with young Ruth's help. Stella gripped Alex by her hand and smiled; "We'll get the miserable gits back!" She was a big woman of about forty, dressed in a dark blue business suit with matching shoes. Stella carried a large black shoulder bag and had a plastic, transparent rain coat folded under her arm. When asked about carrying the strange item, she always said it was better than 'lugging a bloody umbrella about'.
Owen groaned to himself and held out his hand to Temporal Detective Constable James 'Jumbo' Jolly who gripped it tightly;"We'll git Jericho back mah mukker 'n' kick that demons arse." He threw the glass of whisky down his throat and Ruth re-filled it. He turned to Alex; "Dinnae fret Alex, wi' twa pumpin' knights 'n' angel Margret in keep aside fur me - juist in trial that muckle bas turns up - th' wee jimmies wull be braw." Alex thanked him for his words and then turned to Owen and whispered; "What did he just say?" Owen just shrugged his shoulders; "I don't have my translation book on me - sorry."
James called the briefing to order and outlined the plan.
6. THE GREAT RAID?
They hit Scarfell Hall that very afternoon. James stopped time and the team appeared in the great hall ready for action. The place was deserted; the grand table lay in disarray with broken crockery and glasses strewn about the floor. Furniture had been overturned and portraits pulled from walls. "It looks like a bloody cyclone has passed through here!" Exclaimed Owen as the team stared at the chaos they had appeared amongst.
Isabella and Inspector Longstreet headed for the kitchens, whilst James, Alex and 'Jumbo' made for the upstairs. Owen and the rest of Team 35 waited in the great hall. The upstairs corridor was an equal mess to the great hall - all the doors were open - some lay on the floor. Alex took James and 'Jumbo' to the room they found Rosemary Hudson; it was wrecked. Then Alex spotted the body by the bed; it was the footman George Chambers, laying face upwards - it wasn't a pleasant sight. "No soul." Alex muttered and James nodded; "His soul wasn't taken by our side." He said unsmiling.
Alex took a deep breath; only a Tier One demon could take the souls of living humans, she clutched her mirror, then noticed 'Jumbo' was holding out his little glass orb which was dark, blood red. "Thir's a muckle poweful pumpin' demon hingin aroond this bloody steid." Alex didn't need to translate what 'Jumbo' was saying: the orb said it all. Something more powerful than even a dark Angel was in the house.
Very slowly, the three turned back to the doorway. He was standing quietly by the broken door; a tall young man in a cream coloured, high quality, three piece suit. He slowly removed his matching 'Panama' hat and smiled; "Well, Lady Alexandra, you have to be one of the most beautiful human females I have ever had the pleasure to meet." He gave a slight bow, then smiled at James.
Alex and 'Jumbo' were a little stunned to see James bow quite low to the strange young man. "Alex and 'Jumbo', may I have the honour of introducing you to David, our master's youngest brother." Alex managed a very nervous curtsey, whilst 'Jumbo' bowed low. "Sweet Jesus...." Alex whispered, but James interrupted her; "Close but no, this is his Uncle."
He walked across to 'David' and the pair shook hands. David smiled and replaced his hat; "My brother sent me a message about what Inspector Tibbs had discovered, before that idiot Deseri could destroy our little agreement. I've already dealt with Asmodeus; he's on holiday for a while." David walked across and stood in front of Alex; he ran a hand gently against her trembling face. "I have some beautiful human females in my harem. I call them 'my little princesses' - but you could easily be a Queen." He turned to James and grinned broadly; "My brother did ask what I wanted for my birthday. I could always ask for..." Then he saw the bemused look upon James face and still smiling, he bowed a little to Alex and walked back to James.
Alex was actually shaking - she had felt the power, in just that simple brush of his hand upon her face - and then 'Jumbo' gripped her hand quite tightly; "Dinna fash yirsel lassie, th' gaffer wouldn't haun ye ower, sae dinna fash yirsel." He whispered and grinned. Again, Alex didn't need a translator for what 'Jumbo' meant.
David pointed to the late George chambers and actually chuckled; "That idiot tired to whack me with a damn poker even after I dispatched his master back home [Deseri]. So I let them go together. But one of the mob is still missing; you know him as Charles De Mass. I believe he used a portable time portal hidden about his person to disappear." David brushed down his immaculate jacket and sighed; "You'll find the remaining girls huddled in a makeshift dungeon under the stables."
Alex and 'Jumbo' both headed for the door; "I'll get hold of Inspector Longstreet and we'll search for them." Alex spoke softly and curtsied again. 'Jumbo' just grunted and also headed for the door. Alex was going to leave with some real relief, then she remembered Jericho and Wilson. She stopped in the doorway and spoke to 'David' directly, with real concern in her voice; "What about Inspector Tibbs and Sergeant Franklyn?"
"Much as I would like to rid myself of the interfering Mr. Tibbs and his far too loyal side-kick; I will return them, if you ask me Alexandra, as a favour to yourself." He really did smile at that. Alex saw the look upon James face, but nevertheless, she asked quietly if he would return the pair as a personal favour to her.
The 'Dark Prince' smiled broadly and simply clicked his fingers. Jericho and Wilson lay sprawled on the bedroom carpet - the smell was terrible. Alex grabbed a hankie to her face and coughed. 'Jumbo' groaned and held a hand over his mouth; the stench from the pair on the floor was overwhelming.
Jericho and Wilson staggered to their feet and stared at David - they both knew who exactly he was. He actually chuckled and waved a hand at the pair and they were restored to their usual clean and tidy state; the stench was gone.
David turned to James, still smiling; "Deseri does have a curious sense of humour - one of the things I do like about him - he cast the pair into a medieval cess pit that was being used to bury plague victims; the local cemeteries in old Paris were almost full at the time."
Alex embraced both Jericho and Wilson with equal affection, whilst 'Jumbo' slapped them on the back and said something quite unfathomable. Even David had no idea what he said and was quite puzzled by that; as he spoke every human language that ever existed!
He shook hands again with James and was gone. Owen came through the door shouting about finding the remaining missing girls - Inspector Longstreet was arranging their return to their own times. He saw Jericho and Wilson and like Alex did, embraced them with some affection.
James smiled broadly at the reunion and the team returned to the lighthouse - the great raid that never was; had ended. Owen was a little peeved that he had missed meeting 'the Devil', but was not surprised by the 'Dark One's' attraction to Alex - and Wilson agreed, he muttered on finding out; "a bloody big moth to the flame."
7. IN PURSUIT OF SIR CHARLES DE MASS.
Wilson rubbed his face slowly and accepted a glass of brandy from Owen and eased himself onto the sofa. "I'm just wondering how our Miss London escaped from Scarfell Hall using the time portal in the cellars [now closed by James] and ended up in 2011?" He shifted in the chair and then smiled as Alex dropped into her favourite armchair by the fire. "Well, James has ordered Jericho to go after old Charlie De Mass, but what flipping time did he escape to?" She sighed, then her smile dropped, adding; "How did young Lucy escape - we all saw how they were restrained?"
Wilson grunted; " How did she know where a bloody time portal was? We need to know more about that young lady. I think we need to speak to her before we go chasing old Charlie." Jericho pushed through the study door and smiled; "Your quite right Wilson, we're heading back to 2011 and we're going to do a little abduction of our own."
Owen nodded; "We need to return her to 1921 - before she was grabbed and stake out that old church. It doesn't exist after 1951; it was demolished after laying in ruins for nearly fifty years. The old church yard and church grounds are a Urban Wildlife Centre in 2011. But the crypt is still there as part of the wildlife centre and is open to visitors."
Jericho grinned; "I think Owen wants to go brass rubbing...." He was interrupted by an apparently shocked Wilson, who blurted out; "You mean that our little pervert now wants to go arse rubbing!" and shook his head in disbelief. Owen sighed loudly and stuck up a single finger to Wilson; "Open your ears, you piss taking git - the boss said BRASS rubbing." Alex chuckled; "Now, now children, lets play nicely please."
The group laughed quietly and Jericho pointed to the door; "It's back to 2011 and that hospital, its should be visiting time." The team headed for the light room and appeared in Scarfell Royal Infirmary. They made their way to Ward 7 and the private room which contained Miss Lucy London.
They were in for a big surprise - she wasn't there.
Jericho hung his plastic 'Press' card about his neck, as did Wilson, who carried a couple of camera's. Owen and Alex stood back. Alex struck up a conversation with a young student nurse in the Sluice Room, while they waited. Jericho was informed, not very politely, by the nurse on the Ward's Reception desk that all enquires about the young woman had to be addressed to the local Police Station.
Owen coughed and whispered to Jericho that there had been a breech of the time line right here, two days ago, and a pair of humans had jumped to 1971. Jericho nodded and they left the reception area for the hospitals canteen, but the date the pair had jumped to, kept popping into Jericho's sharp mind and he couldn't think why.
They gathered together in the canteen and enjoyed some tea and biscuits. Alex smiled a little; "Young Grace, the student nurse, tells me that the still unknown young woman [to current living humans] had simply vanished from her guarded room, right under the noses of a nurse and a uniformed constable, a couple of nights ago. No trace has been found of her and she must be walking around in her hospital gown. There is a major police search on for her." Alex sipped her tea and stole the last custard cream biscuit from Owen's plate - he was not happy about that and sulked for a couple of hours.
Jericho sat unsmiling, rubbing his chin; "So the story is, that the young woman awoke from a coma, grabbed what she could and only wearing a hospital gown, slipped past a policeman and a nurse who were suppose to be watching her. Then walked quietly from the hospital with no-one seeing anything. I don't think so."
Wilson sipped his coffee and looked quite grim; "I don't like to be the first to mention this, but that evil pervert De Mass is still at large. You don't think he came back to reclaim what he thinks is his own." Jericho folded his arms and nodded his agreement with that, then glanced at the table opposite them. The woman in a dull grey coat who sat there, suddenly smiled quite broadly at him. Jericho rubbed his chin; she seemed quite familiar, where had he seen her before?
Mrs. Kath Warrington placed her cup down and leaned back in her chair. She spoke quietly; "The last time I met you Mr. Tibbs was when I was just eight years old and only my grandmother and I could see you and that wonderful dwarf with the big smile. Do you remember?"
Jericho snapped his fingers and smiled; "Young Katherine Crabb!"
Kath smiled and nodded her head; "Now Mrs. Warrington, your very pretty assistant was just speaking to my daughter Grace about the missing girl. She has the gift - she could see that all four of you were not alive - well, not like real living humans. Soon as she described you, I knew it was you."
Jericho turned to his team; "Kath's grandmother and her mum, were genuine 'Passer's' and the gift has clearly manifested in Kath and her daughter. I dealt with Kath and her grandmother some years previously." He turned back to Kath; "It was a séance that went wrong, if I remember, up at Scarfell Hall. Oscar and I had to call in a Guardian for the bloody demon that had gate crashed the séance."
Kath smiled; "Gran realised that I could see you and your friend, when you walked her back to the car. I was sitting in the back, if I remember correctly. You know that she never did another one after that. She certainly took your advice." Kath suddenly shuffled nearer on the chair and her voice dropped to just above a whisper, as she looked about.
"You know him as Sir Charles De Mass who lived in the late Eighteenth century up at Scarfell Hall, but he now lives around here, in this very time. I recognised him from a small portrait that hangs in the local museum and like yourselves, could see that he didn't belong amongst the current living." She shuffled in the 'Asda' shopping bag that lay on the floor, near her chair and pulled a paperback book from it. She handed the book to Jericho and half smiled, adding; "It wasn't that successful - but the jacket picture is interesting."
Kath rose and tapped Jericho upon the shoulder, with some affection; "Say hello to that wonderful little chap for me - he did make me laugh as a little girl." She said her farewells to the team and walked quietly away. Jericho turned the paperback around in his hands and held the rear cover up to his team.
"Well, he's shaved his beard and cut his hair, acquired a pair of spectacles - but that certainly looks like the dirty bastard." Owen muttered; it appears that Sir Charles De Mass had set himself up as a historian at Rutland University and basically written his own biography! The book jacket informed them that the historian; a certain Charles Manson, was an expert on the 19th century. Wilson grunted; "A very appropriate nom de plume I would think." Everyone agreed on that.
Owen held up his mirror and said quietly; "He lives not far from here, but we're going to need a car I suspect; to travel incognito." Jericho nodded and told Owen to order one from Supplies.
"Guess where we are going." Jericho said simply and the team rose as one and headed for the canteen doors.
8. NOTHING IS EVER QUITE WHAT IT SEEMS.
"At least Supplies has given us a bloody decent car this time." Wilson actually smiled a little as he drove the Volvo estate down the quiet road. Alex sighed; "We drive on the right hand side of the road in this Country and time period." She gripped her seat as Wilson moved back onto the right side of the road - much to the relief of Owen, who now opened his eyes. Jericho just chuckled and relaxed, consulting his mirror. "About another twenty minutes and the historian Charlies Manson's cottage will be off a little dirt road. He certainly has picked an isolated place to reside in - again."
The cottage was a little masterpiece of 19th century construction and stood in its own well tended grounds. Wilson stopped the car some yards from the black iron gates. A large grey padlock and chain was wrapped around the closed gates. Everyone could see the single security camera above the them; "That's why I parked back here." Muttered Wilson and turned to Jericho, adding; "Anyone home?" Jericho nodded, tapping his mirror; "One living human - a woman." Alex didn't smile; "I think we can all guess who that might be."
"Well she's certainly moving about the place with some freedom; I think she's doing yoga or something." Jericho looked up from his mirror and leaned back in his seat, Alex noticed the expression upon his face and half smiled; "You've just thought of something, haven't you?" Jericho sighed and told Owen to check how many women were reported missing on the day Lucy London was snatched - and where they went missing from.
Owen sat quietly reading his mirror and Alex stared at the quiet cottage, then something caught her sharp eyes; "The door on the stable block [converted into a double garage] is now open, I'd swear they were both closed when we pulled up." Jericho grunted and read his mirror again; "You have a great pair of eyes Alexandra, there's a human in there alright - a male." Everyone watched the garages - but no-one emerged. "She doesn't only have a great pair of eyes, but a great..." The not so gentle slap on the back of his head by Alex, prevented Owen from finishing his sentence. He returned to his mirror - grinning.
"Your not going to believe what I've just found out about the afternoon Lucy London was abducted, there was another girl reported as missing; a certain Miss Jane Calder, aged nineteen and she disappeared in London...." Owen was interrupted by Jericho, this time, who smiled; "Pull up an image of her please."
Owen worked his mirror for about a minute, then sat back; the look on his face was priceless. He slowly held it up for everyone to see. Wilson nodded; "She could easily pass for Miss London, same features - they could be sisters." Owen sighed; "Her soul is missing - she's never been collected and her dispatch date was September 5th, 1957. She was suppose to die in a bus accident in Sheffield but obviously never turned up for that little adventure."
Jericho eased back in the cars comfortable rear seat and chuckled; "Nothing is ever quite what it seems." Wilson looked a little puzzled; "What have you come up with?" He asked. Jericho folded his arms; "We all saw what we expected to see, back in 1921. The mirrors were set for a body search of Miss Lucy London and sure enough, they took us to where her living body was. Apparently we see her abducted by two men; but only one left the car to grab the girl. The other remained sitting at the wheel - nothing odd there - a 'getaway' driver would be needed to speed immediately from the scene. But here's the best bit; it wasn't Lucy London we saw being snatched, but her doppelganger: Miss Calder, who we believed, was Lucy herself because she is so similar to her. That was our error; to accept what we saw at face value. We went to see a girl supposedly abducted and that's what we got. - we didn't question what we thought we saw."
"That sounds fine; but the mirrors could not make such a mistake - they would have definitely taken us to Lucy's living body." Wilson argued and Alex and Owen agreed with him. Jericho grinned broadly; "You are quite right and the mirrors did take us to the living body of Miss London; she was there alright, but she certainly wasn't dragged into the car - that would be quite impossible."
Owen took a deep breath; "Why is that SO impossible?" Jericho raised both hands and grinned again; "She was already in the car; she was driving the bloody thing!"
There was silence for a few seconds, then Wilson slapped his hand against the side of his head; His voice sounded a little angry - with himself; "That's fucking so obvious now. At the old church, the second man with the key was tiny compared to his burly friend; a woman disguised as a man. How the fuck did we miss that?" No -one answered.
"I strongly suspect that Lucy London already knew Charlies De Mass before they grabbed Miss Calder and had already been time travelling with him - probably back to 1792 - on various occasions. He was the burly man who grabbed the girls [including Miss Calder] and I have no doubt that Lucy helped him with his perverted little hobby. They made one big mistake; they didn't know that we would jump back to 1921 and search for Lucy's living body at that time." Jericho accepted the hip-flask from Alex and took a sip, he continued.
"At some point in their relationship, Lucy decided to stay with de Mass and so she disappeared with him in 1921. But I also strongly suspect that something went terribly wrong between the two and Lucy only just managed to escape with her life - and found herself in 2011 and I think that date is significant, but I don't know why - yet. She would never have thought, that Temporal Detectives would use the fake disappearance date [1921] to start the search for her and stumble upon the pair actually taking another girl. She wouldn't know that our mirrors would take us back to her last visit to good old 1921 London and catch her in the act; that was pure co-incidence, but a lucky break for us."
Wilson sat with his arms folded; there was silence in the car as Jericho spoke softly. "Lucy London is found on that muddy Moor, just a mile from Scarfell Hall and its evil reputation, beaten and abused. We discover that some ninety years ago she was reported missing and so she's a lost soul - out of her time - and the name she whispers; Charles De Mass has us hooked because we know the sort of man he is. So we quickly made 2 + 2 equal 7. We now know more facts about the case and I believe Lucy London is as guilty as De Mass."
Alex pushed back in her seat and slowly sipped her hip-flask and handed it over to Owen. She sounded quite angry as she spoke; "So that little bitch stood by, well, actually assisted the beast to abuse those young girls. It makes me feel
sick that a woman could do that." Everyone agreed with Alex's statement.
Owen stared down at his mirror, then looked up; "But where the hell is Jane Calder? She wasn't at Scarfell Hall - we freed all the girls found there. So what happened to her?" Jericho patted young Owen's arm; "Do the maths Owen; how many of the time breeches do we have recorded for Scarfell Hall - all returning to 1792 and how many girls did we find there?"
Owen coughed; "Well there was nine breeches - ten if you count Lucy's return in 2011 - if you don't, then its nine and we recovered seven girls from the old Hall. so we have two girls missing - that's if they bought back one victim each time."
Alex spoke softly; "We know that Lucy is no longer one of the missing girls, so that means we have two girls uncounted for and one must be this Jane Calder. But who the hell is the other poor cow?" Wilson folded his arms and stared at the cottage; "Maybe old Charlie has another little place set up in another time?" he turned to Jericho and smiled; "I suppose we had better find out who's the man in the old Stable block and who is the woman in the cottage."
Jericho nodded and the team started to leave the car when Jericho's mirror buzzed - then all their mirrors buzzed. "I've just seen a bright flash of light in the old stables!" Alex shouted and everyone saw that the mirrors had picked up the activation of a 'Time-portal' very close by. "The bastard must have seen us and jumped!" Wilson shouted and headed for the padlocked gate; it took him less than a minute to open the padlock. "He certainly missed his calling; he should have been a professional burglar." Commented Owen as he helped Wilson swing open the gates.
"Check out the garages." Jericho indicated to Alex and Owen, while he and Wilson made for the cottage's front door. It opened before they reached it and the young woman stood unsmiling; dressed in a tight dark leotard with a clean white towel draped around her shoulders, she had clearly been working out. Both men noticed the bruises about her face and shoulders - they were fresh.
Jericho sighed loudly; this was something that he didn't expect - not even in his wildest thoughts. He stared at the girl and said quietly; "Hello Grace." With real disappointment in his voice.
9. LOVE, TIME TRAVEL & SOME MURDER.
Young grace walked back into the spacious and quite comfortable lounge and sat on the large black leather sofa; she indicated for Jericho and Wilson to sit down. Jericho shook his head with some sadness; "Alexandra is going to be very disappointed in you Grace - she actually quite liked you - never mind what your mother will say." Grace shrugged her shoulders and half smiled; "Everyone has secrets Jericho, some are a lot darker than most, my dear Great Grandmother certainly had a few - like murder and arson."
Alex and Owen appeared in the doorway and both Wilson and Jericho could see the look upon Alex's face. Grace indicated for them to sit down; she smiled broadly at Alex and received a grim look in reply. Owen did grin, Grace was sitting on the sofa with her legs a little open and the leotard didn't hide much. "Don't look like that Alex, we can't help what we are." Grace rose and walked to the ornate table by the bookshelf and opened a rare bottle of brandy. Alex said nothing and sat down next to Wilson on the smaller black leather sofa opposite Grace.
Everyone could see the cane marks upon her very exposed buttocks and the top of her legs. "Brandy all round?" She asked and pulled the cork from the bottle. "You said murder and arson Grace; who's?" Jericho asked and gripped his mirror in his coat pocket. Grace turned and smiled; "Old Charlie De Mass and that slut Lucy London of course." She poured herself a large brandy in a beautiful crystal glass and sipped it slowly. Strangely, for the team, no-one accepted her generous offer of brandy.
Jericho nodded and rubbed a hand across his chin; "The fire that destroyed Scarfell Hall in 1971. Two bodies found in the deserted east wing that couldn't be identified, the police [at the time] believed they were squatters who may have started the fire accidentally and were killed. They are both buried in un-marked graves. Are you saying that the pair were Charles De Mass and Lucy London?"
Grace nodded; "My old great grandmother knew both of them and they thought she was a friend who would help them hide out there for a couple of weeks. But she hated De Mass because...." Grace wiped her lips and smiled, she continued; "Well, my dear old granny was quite a pretty little thing back then. But you would know that Jericho; you met her a couple of years before the fire. De Mass thought so too and he and that slut persuaded her into threesomes and orgies. She found that she was pregnant and de Mass just laughed in her face. One night they had a serious orgy and while everyone slept, my plucky old granny set the house alight. Those two made no effort to escape because they were unconscious on the floor - she had drugged the pair with tainted whisky. The others who took part couldn't exactly rush to the police; now could they?"
Jericho just nodded at her words and turned to Owen; "Call up Miss Lucy London's scheduled departure date please." Owen tapped at his mirror and said quietly; "It was February 14th 1973 in Malta, where she had retired to." Jericho allowed himself a small smile; "And her soul is still posted as missing?" Owen nodded and then tapped his mirror; "But that can't be right, I mean, being killed in a fire in 1971. That would mean she died within her own time cycle - albeit a little earlier. Her soul would have been collected because she wouldn't be out of her own time."
Jericho clicked his fingers and smiled; "So it wasn't Lucy that died in the fire - no souls were collected from either of those two unknown people. They had either already traded them or they were both out of their own times - that's somewhat interesting." Grace said nothing, but sipped her brandy. Wilson grunted; "One could have been Charles De Mass; he would have certainly been out of his time cycle, but who was the other?"
"I take it that the child your great grandmother had was your grandmothers brother Peter who died a few days after birth - he jumped immediately being a child at death." Grace nodded, but again said nothing; she was still a little shocked that her great grandmother had killed the wrong girl - how could that be?"
Owen managed to stop staring at Graces bulging crotch in her tight leotard and spoke to Jericho; "It could be Jane Calder - the lookalike - if she died in 1971 she would certainly be out of her time; remember her departure date was 1957." Jericho chuckled; "I think we've been spun quite a tale. The two that died in the fire was neither De Mass or Lucy; they are still around somewhere. Grace could tell us where they jumped to, but I suspect she will not - come on, lets go, there's nothing more we can do here."
Grace walked over to the still open door and quietly bid the temporal detectives goodbye. The team gathered in the car and shared their hip-flasks amongst themselves. Finally, Owen just had to ask; "How the hell could you know that the two burnt bodies were not Jane or De Mass and who jumped from the garages?"
Jericho smiled; "Anyone fancy visiting a real live orgy?" They all started to laugh and Jericho operated his mirror and the team appeared in 1971 - just a few minutes walk from Scarfell Hall. There were several cars parked outside the old east wing; which had lights showing from several windows. The sound of music and voices were escaping from the open windows. "If its a fucking orgy, they are not being very discrete about it." Muttered Wilson.
The team were a little amazed when Jericho simply knocked at the front door, which was opened by 'Little Bo-Peep' [without any sheep] who smiled broadly at the group. "Love those costumes, but who the hell have you come as?" She asked; waving them inside. Jericho grinned; "Time travellers." He said and they followed the girl into the fancy dress party which was in full swing.
Frankenstein handed them drinks and certainly took a particular interest in Alex. Owen couldn't take his eyes off the young blond girl dressed as a 'French Maid' - until Wilson slapped his back; "Come on, we're working you know." But he did smile.
Jericho called them together by the home bar and spoke quietly; "The two bodies were found in a bedroom down the small, lower floor corridor. That's where we're headed." Everyone made their way to the corridor individually - to avoid arousing suspicion from the other guests. "So, no bloody orgy - just a fancy dress party." Owen sounded quite disappointed. Alex really had a job to extract herself from the attentions of 'Frankenstein' - but she made it.
In the quiet corridor, Jericho stopped them by a closed door and held up his mirror; "They are inside." He again, just simply, knocked and waited for the door to open. There was no answer and so he tried the handle and pushed open the door, everyone stood staring at the two bodies slumped upon the floor. There was silence for a few seconds, then Wilson sighed loudly; "Henry the fucking Eighth and Queen Cleopatra appear to be stone dead." Jericho indicated for Alex to check the bodies, and instructed Owen to check Dispatches about the deaths.
Alex and Wilson knelt by the bodies and Alex actually let out a little yelp as she turned 'Cleopatra' over. It was young Grace Warrington - the girl they had been just talking to in 2011. No one recognised the young man laying dead next to her. Owen spoke softly; "We all know the girl; no soul was collected because she was out of her own time - she hadn't even been born yet. The young man is shown as Gerrard Kelly who was suppose to die in March, 2031. He should have been killed on duty in his Panda car, when it was struck by a heavy lorry whilst attending an road traffic accident. He was a Police Officer in 2011 and he is also out of his time; so no soul."
Alex sighed and stood up; "Both poisoned I think, there's no obvious wounds or marks upon them - well, young Grace still has whip and cane marks on her back, legs and bum which are quite fresh. I suspect that these two were the nurse and police man watching over Lucy when she disappeared from the hospital."
Jericho nodded; "Just to keep you all in the picture, you'll find that the young man was also the first uniform policeman who appeared, so quickly on the Moor, the day Lucy was discovered."
"He also must have been the man in the garages, who used a time controller to escape." Owen said and checked his mirror again for any updates. But Jericho just smiled; "No he wasn't - that dubious honour belonged to someone else."
Everyone turned to Jericho, who told Wilson to - very carefully - to check the bodies for a time controller. Wilson found a small ancient Egyptian statue of the Goddess isis in the man's pocket - his mirror warned him that it contained a time portal. He carefully removed the small figurine and wrapped it in a discarded pillow case.
Jericho suddenly turned to the doorway and said loudly; "You best come in, the arson bit of your plan must still go ahead. We don't want any more changes to the current human time line, now do we John or should I call you by some of your other alias, like Charles Manson or Charles De Mass?"
John Crabb lowered the large old pistol and actually smiled. "My Master Deseri always said you were a smart bastard Jericho. The Great Master really should have left you in that cess pit."
10. DARKNESS OF A TROUBLED SOUL.
Jericho nodded but didn't smile; "I could spin a tale about what happened, but it would contain a few omissions from the real story, so why don't you tell us - then it would be first hand." John chuckled and pushed the pistol into his coat pocket. He stared down at the two bodies that Alex and Owen were covering with sheets from the bed. He jerked a thumb at them and with no remorse in his voice said; "The little bitch and her boyfriend betrayed me - after I showed such favour to both - but I kept that little fact concealed and they were more than happy to attend the 'orgy' I had arranged. They loved the idea of a fancy dress sex party. Except it wasn't - just a party thrown for my normal friends. I lured them to this room and killed the pair with poisoned whisky." He pointed to an empty bottle of 'Johnny Walker' thrown on the floor.
"The fire would have destroyed any evidence of poisoning - just like a good cremation would." He pulled a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one up. He gestured towards the dead; "It was a pity about young Grace, she enjoyed the beatings, she loved a little S & M and getting fucked in the arse by her dear Uncle. I had her first when she just thirteen - a really good little slave slut."
Alex actually groaned; "You had sex with your own niece. You really are a sick bastard." She had her hand over her mouth, adding; "I think I'm going to be sick." Wilson gripped her arm gently; "I don't think that's the worse of it."
John waved the cigarette about slowly and smiled; "I met Lucy in 1921 and she fell for me straight away. She loved the whole idea of the Knight travelling through time, my effigy in the church's crypt - which I had made in 1841 and paid the corrupt Vicar considerable money to have it placed there, to cover the time portal that existed." He sighed; "To her I WAS Sir Charles De Mass and she loved me so much that she was happy to take part in my little, painful games." He walked to a small chair by the big window and sat down, he stared out the window and was silent for a few moments.
"Lucy decided to come with me and I thought...well, kill two birds with one stone, so we grabbed another girl that I picked off the street and jumped back to the old Hall. I suppose you saw that." He finished his cigarette and threw it upon the floor. "She was a good lure for the other girls, they relaxed with her - thought they were safe with another woman about - she really liked to use the cane alot on them. We had some gret times, jumping from time to time; collecting girls and followers." He hung his head and wiped his face.
"Then Deseri showed up and we became worshippers of the Great Master; he showered money and power upon me - if I did his bidding - which I did with little resistance. Then it started to go wrong with that bloody séance in 1969. My mother Grace actually managed to summon up another bloody demon - a minor one that had fallen out with Deseri and thought he could have a little fun with his followers. Well, you sorted that one out Jericho, you and that crazy dwarf. But it meant that Deseri came across Lucy and the shit really did hit the fan."
He stood up and leaned against the cold fireplace. There was silence for some time. Jericho asked quietly; "What happened to Lucy?"
John folded his arms; "I had to let him...I had no choice... but to give Lucy to him and the other girl I snatched, when Lucy came with me. Deseri thought they were sisters and liked the idea of having both. But he went too far in his passion." John wiped his face again and lit yet another cigarette, then continued; "He was way too rough and the other girl died. He had seriously injured Lucy and I knew I had to get her proper medical care - there was none in 1792. So I grabbed Lucy and jumped home to 2011 - I didn't want her to die."
He stared again at the bodies beneath the white sheets; "I knew two of my Devil's Convent followers would help me - my niece Grace and her stupid boyfriend - So I arranged for Gerrard to be first on scene and Grace to sit with Lucy at the hospital. I placed Lucy on the Moor after the heavy rains and grabbed my dog. I had not reckoned on young Peter turning up at exactly the same time with his bloody hound. So I had to play the scene out."
He folded his arms and sighed; "Whilst Grace sat with Lucy, she found out that I was really Charles De Mass and she felt betrayed. I hadn't told her about the other girls and especially about my passion for Lucy. Grace was a clever, evil little fucker and so she spirited away Lucy, with the help of her boyfriend. I was there that morning, you arrived at my cottage. I had given Grace a good hiding, I wanted to know what the pair had done with Lucy; but couldn't finish the job because of your arrival."
He suddenly grinned; "I take it, that she spun the tale about her Great grandmother being responsible for the deaths and fire at Scarfell Hall?" Jericho nodded; Yes. His smile broadened; "There was some truth in the story - well, the bit about Charles de Mass knocking up her great Grandmother, when she was a young woman in 1969. But I didn't know who the bodies were in 1971, when I was at this very party. Funny that?"
Alex slumped upon the edge of the bed and shook her head; "You had sex with your Grandmother; I'm going to vomit." John just smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "She was a good looking woman back then...and it was the seventies."
"Where's Lucy now?" Wilson asked and glanced at his mirror. John raised his hands; "I honestly don't know; i suppose she must be dead now and those two fuckers got rid of the body." He turned back to the window and muttered; "We had one strange thing happen when we jumped to 1888, the girl we grabbed wasn't quite..." he never finished because Jericho interrupted him.
Jericho pushed his fingers through his dark hair; he had heard enough. They had recovered the time controlling device, restored several souls back to their proper times and unmasked a time travelling sex offender. They had also removed a senior demon from the scene - for now. "That's enough for us. This is still your proper time - even if your only six years old presently - but you will be returned to 2011 and without the time controller you will stay put. The time portal in the crypt has also been closed. The Police I have no doubt, will look into the disappearance of your niece and her boyfriend. I strongly suspect that they will want to speak to you." Jericho operated his mirror and the team returned to the Lighthouse.
Alex pushed through the study door and sat in her favourite armchair by the fire; she unfurled a tabloid newspaper and offered it to Jericho who placed his brandy glass down and started to read. He chuckled slightly and also placed it down upon the small coffee table. Owen and Wilson appeared with the reclusive John following behind.
Owen dropped on the sofa and grinned; "You'll never guess what I found out about the infamous Sir Charles de Mass aka John Crabb?" Alex smiled and tapped the paper; "Jericho and I were just reading the story in a newspaper from 2014. very interesting it was." Owen sighed; "So you know that John Crabb's sister Katherine gave evidence against him over her missing daughter. The whole filthy story of sadistic incest came out."
Wilson chuckled; "It couldn't have happened to a more deserving fellow." He accepted a glass of brandy from Mr. Harris and raised his glass; "Human justice - too late and too little - as usual." Owen laughed at that, then turned back to Alex; "Apparently it was quite rare in British Law to be found guilty of murder with no bodies found. He received two 'whole life' sentences - I think that means, he's inside until he dies."
Alex turned to Jericho; "Do you think that his sister knew something, when she gave that paperback to you; with her brother's picture on the rear and we then knew he was the historian Charles Manson?" Owen chipped in; "Do you think it was belated revenge?"
Jericho held up his hands and sighed; "I think she knew something and it was her that he sexually assaulted when they were teenagers." Alex groaned and slumped back in her chair; "He had sex with his niece, his bloody Grandmother and tried it on with his own sister!" She jumped up and headed for the drinks tray, adding; "I need a bloody brandy."
"You always need a bloody brandy." Wilson chuckled.
EPILOGUE:
"Despite this being quite a complex mission, the Team managed a satisfactory result. The Dark Prince saved Jericho's and Wilson from a particularly nasty fate; as a favour to Alexandra. He [Prince David] has clearly a 'thing' for her. That would result in some trouble for the Team and Alexandra, in the future."
W.A.S.
Miss Lucy London's soul remains missing to this day and her body has never been recovered. The two people who could have shed some light upon this, both died out of their own times and so their souls could not be questioned.
John Crabb [aka Sir Charles De Mass/Charles Manson] died in Doncaster prison in May 2024. His soul was collected and processed; it remains in quarantine for at least another five centuries.
Miss Jane Calder remains a missing soul and her body has never been recovered.
Grace Warrington was murdered by John Crabb in 1971 and her body destroyed by the fire that swept Scarfell Hall that very night. She was a human out of her own time and so her soul is missing. The case remains unresolved.
Constable Gerrard Kelly [Grace's boyfriend & lover] was also murdered by John Crabb and his body was also destroyed by the fire at Scarfell Hall in 1971. He was a human out of his own time and so his soul is missing. The case remains unresolved.
Katherine Warrington [John Crabb's sister] never forgave her brother about her daughter Grace and didn't even attend his funeral in 2024. She continued to search for her daughter's body until she died in 2031 from cancer. Her soul was collected and processed.
All the other victims of John Crabb were returned to their own times; before their abductions and lived out their lives as pre-ordained - apart from one who has never been identified or traced.
The Scarfell Hall footman; George Chambers, who was dispatched to Hell on the express orders of the 'Dark Prince' is now a Senior Minion of the Devil. He has sworn 'bloody revenge' on Jericho Tibbs.
Deseri [the senior demon] is back in favour with his Dark Prince and it's believed he has set up other institutions like Scarfell Hall - temporal detectives and the Knights of God are on his trail.
Isabella is now a fully fledged Knight of God and has worked with Jericho and team 74 on many occasions. it is rumoured that she particularly likes Detective Sergeant Wilson Franklyn - but it's just rumours....
Inspector John Vine was commended for bringing John Crabb to justice, it was his last big case - he died of complications from pneumonia - in the summer of 2013. No soul was collected and the case was assigned to Temporal Inspector Lutz Gromann and Team 19- it awaits resolution.
Sergeant Olive Roberts was never promoted above the rank of Detective Sergeant and remained in service until her retirement in 2028. She never married or had children; she died in 2047 at a Hospice in North Yorkshire - the sole mourner at her funeral who wasn't Hospice staff - was a representative of Yorkshire Police. Her soul was collected and processed.
Professor Rose Carthday was stunned by the nightdresses condition; it had been made in the 1780's and looked brand new. She never saw another one like it. She remained a professor at the Victoria & Albert Museum until ill-health forced her to retire in 2023. She died in 2025 and her soul soul was collected and processed.
Doctor Ali Khan had worked at the hospital for several years. Then one morning he arrived at his usual time, spoke to his secretary and had a coffee in the hospital restaurant. He hung himself in the boiler house, and was found a day or so later by maintenance staff. No soul was collected. the case is being investigated by Inspector Lutz Gromann and Team 19. They are also investigating the Late Inspector John Vine. It is believed the two 'no souls' showing for the men are linked. They certainly knew each other. It awaits resolution.
One strange incident remains a mystery; there was a breech of the time line, traced to the ruins of Scarfell Hall on Christmas Day 1971 - just months after the fatal fire. This was strange because all the time portals found had been closed - one human crossed from that year to London - in the year 1888.
SPECIAL APPEARANCE BY Prince David, the Dark Prince, as himself.
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