1. “I DON’T BELIEVE IN NO GHOSTS……”
Maurice ‘Mo’
Breckenridge pushed his hard hat back and took a long draw on his cigarette and waved his hand down the steps of the South Entrance of 153rd North
Street Subway station; “Get those silly buggers back down there! How the hell
can I call the Office and tell
bloody Mister Taylor that the bloody crew have walked off site because they saw
a bloody ghost! I’m not making that call, we’re already five days behind
schedule, now get the lazy buggers out the vans and back down there!” The small
man gripped his hard hat with both hands and tried to smile; “I’ve told them
that Mo and they just told me to fuck off….I think you should speak to them on
this one. Sorry.”
Mo grunted and threw
his cigarette down and patted little Derek on the shoulder; “Ok my old friend.
I will, now get that cement lorry backed up to the Shute; if we don’t pour this
afternoon we will be in the shit good and proper.” Little Derek smiled and was
gone. Mo straightened his jacket and lit another cigarette, then headed for the
two vans parked outside the Italian café. He wasn’t happy to find the vans
empty and his crew sitting in the coffee shop. “Fuck it.” Was all he said and
strode into the café causing all conversation to stop.
The café owner had to
ask him to moderate his language because there were ladies present, but Mo’s
men got the message alright. Back to work or their wages docked. Slowly and
very reluctantly they left the café and walked back to the derelict subway
entrance. Little Derek shepherded them back down the stairs and they gathered
on the old South platform. Mo walked back to his Plymouth and eased in, leaving
the door open. He removed his hat and jacket, cursing this wonderfully clear
but hot day. He lit another cigarette and watched the traffic passing slowly.
He pulled the blue
prints from his battered old briefcase and stared at them. 153rd
North Street Subway station had closed in 1929 after the new 14th
West Avenue Subway Station opened and lay closed and unvisited since. Well;
except for the odd inspection Team from City Hall. It had been one of those
teams that found the damage to the South platform and the disused offices.
Serious damage warranting immediate action and thus the Cities Emergency
Building Team was on scene. The Engineer in charge was Frank Taylor and he was
a hard task master. Well, he was an utter bastard actually, but Mo seemed to
get on with him.
“Fucking ghosts, I
don’t believe in bloody ghosts.” He muttered to himself and leaned back in his
seat and then noticed patrolman Sean Finlay walking towards him. He had known
the cop for at least fifteen years. He held up a hand and shouted; “Sean! What’s up man?” Sean had his hat off,
wiping his brow and neck. He sauntered over and smiled. “How are your ghosts
getting on Mo my friend?” and chuckled shoving his hat back on and leaned on
the car door. Mo just sighed and then smiled; “You know what those fuckers are
like, they would down tools if a mouse ran up their trouser leg.” Sean chuckled
again; “So you haven’t heard the news about the experts coming from Boston
University. Real experts my friend and they will tackle your ghost problem for
you!”
Mo groaned and didn’t
smile; that’s all he needed now; bloody ghost hunters from a bloody university!
He nodded; “Finding them two dead vagrants down there has fucked up all my
schedules. Now my moronic workmen are seeing fucking ghosts. That’s all I
bloody need. Do we know what killed the mangy old men?” Sean shrugged his
shoulders; “I knew both of them; they had been together for years around here.
Both liked paint stripper and Budweiser cocktails, so I dare say that didn’t
help. Feel kinda sorry for them; one was an ex-Ranger who landed at Normandy,
the other was some kind of disgraced bank clerk who did time up In Rochester,
back in the fifties.”
He stood back from
the door and tipped his hat back; “Apparently they will be here tomorrow and
here’s the worse bit; three of them are limey’s including the professor in
charge and one’s a bloody woman.” He smiled broadly at his friends face; Mo
didn’t like anyone who wasn’t American and he certainly didn’t like women in
positions of authority. “How the fuck can you be a professor of something that
don’t exist? That doesn’t make sense. Shit, what a pile of crap.” Mo said and
threw his cigarette butt down. Sean just smiled and walked off towards the
Italian café; it was time for a coffee and a doughnut.
Mo made his way back
to the subway station and descended into the cool dim station. He grunted with
satisfaction as the cement pour was under way and stared up at the fantastic
roof murals; now they did impress him. They showed famous monuments of New York
City; well famous before 1929. He really admired the craftsmanship in them.
“Fucking real builders back in the day; not like the fucking cowboys and so
called architects of today.” He muttered to himself and lit yet another
cigarette. That’s when he saw the two men standing on the tracks by the tunnel
entrance to the platform. He watched as they threw down their shovels and
turned, running like hell towards the platform. They scrambled up the
platform edge screaming; “There’s a fucking train coming!” Mo watched in utter
disbelieve and horror as the carriages flashed past him and the two men
groveling on the platform floor. There was no sound whatsoever and the ‘train’
passed down the tracks and disappeared south in an instance.
There was absolute
silence for a second or two and then a dozen men ran up the station stairs;
screaming and shouting, tools clattering down the steps followed by hard hats.
Unsurprisingly; Mo
was one of them. He had changed his mind about ghosts.
2. “WHO YOU GONNA CALL?”
‘Mo’ Breckenridge sat
sweating and lit another cigarette; this wasn’t going to be pleasant. He stared
through the glass door of Frank Taylor’s office and saw the big man sitting at
his cluttered desk; phone in one hand and huge cigar in the other. Mavis – the
secretary – handed Mo a cup of coffee and whispered; “He’s been on the phone to
the Mayor’s Office twice this morning already. Apparently the Mayor is having
kittens about all this; the press is all over the story.” She walked back to
her desk and continued typing and the keys hitting the ribbon and paper seemed
to annoy Mo.
He sipped his coffee
and jumped a little when Mavis’s phone rang. She answered it and said ‘Yes’ a
couple of times and placed the receiver down. She actually managed a small
smile; “They’re here Mo.” Was all she said and eased from her chair and walked
to the door and opened it, then stood waiting. Mo stood slowly and wiped his
face and neck with a gaudy orange hankie. He stared past Mavis into the
corridor and saw the lift doors open; five people slowly walked from the lift,
heading towards him and Mavis.
One man he knew was
Phil DeVine; from the City’s Building Works Department. He was actually smiling
and talking with a very well dressed younger man. Mo then noticed the big black
man – again, in an expensive suit – and thought he looked like a cop. The other
younger man looked like a faggot and Mo sighed; they get everywhere! He then
saw the woman walking at the rear and Mo really smiled – for the first time in
days – she was an absolute stunner in a dark mini-dress with matching shoes and little hat. She could
easily walk a ‘catwalk’ with that body and beautiful face; so what the fuck was
she wasting her time chasing ghosts for? He straightened his tie and wiped his
face again. Mavis showed them in and offered coffee’s all round. Phil knocked
on Frank’s door and stuck his head in. “That team from the Dean’s office at
Boston University are here Frank.” He walked back and sat on the edge of
Mavis’s desk and admired the lady from Boston.
Frank Taylor appeared
in the doorway and stared at his visitors. “Which of you is Professor Tibbs?”
he asked, sucking on his cigar and Jericho held out his hand and introduced
himself and his team. Frank crushed his hand and smiled; cigar gripped between
his teeth. “I’m glad to meet you prof and I really hope you can fuck help; I’m
nine days behind schedule and up to my arse in fucking ghosts. The Mayor is
crawling up my butt and I have newspapers popping out of every hole that ain’t
already occupied!”
Jericho rubbed his
hand and managed a smile; “Thank you Frank. That was quite a succinct appraisal
of the situation.” Owen couldn’t stifle a little giggle and got a strange look
from Mo who shrugged his shoulders; I was right about him, another fucking
queer. Frank ushered everyone into his much bigger office and turned up the air
conditioning. Like Mo and Phil; he couldn’t take his eyes off Alex; who he
offered a chair immediately and watched – almost memorized – as she sat so
gracefully and ladylike despite the short skirt. He noticed her bare legs and
smiled; no fucking pantyhose, so just a little scrap of cotton covering heaven’s
gateway. Phil speaking drew his reluctant attention back to the meeting.
“I’ve authorized the
professor and his team full access to the old station for them and their
equipment. They’re keen to get down there. Apparently they will be joined by a
certain Father Adams from the Cardinals office in Boston. He’s another expert
on these matters and if the Church is involved, then we’re in good hands.” Phil
spoke to the group, but stared at Alex’s long bare legs the whole time. Like
Frank he wasn’t too subtle about showing his appreciation of the female form.
The meeting broke up
and Frank stopped Alex as she was last to leave and suggested a drink at a
little Irish bar he knew. She just smiled at him and joined the team heading in
silence to the lift.
The city had placed a
hire car – a station wagon – at their disposal and use.
Wilson would be the driver; he obviously knew the city well. The team picked up
the car and threw their baggage in and headed for their hotel which was just a
block down from the old subway station. Owen suggested they walk from the hotel
and Wilson just sighed; “Walk from the hotel if you wish my baby brother; but
you may not reach the subway station in one piece.” He chuckled and the ‘ghost
busters’ drove to the ‘Plaza Hotel’ and booked in. Wilson parked the car in the
basement parking area and chatted with the two ‘brothers’ who ran the place.
Alex noticed some dollar bills were handed over and she knew that parking was
free for guests.
She asked him about
that; “Well, the brothers believe I’m some rich black dude from Boston and
they’re now sweet and will take good care of the car. Their friends can steal
someone’s car that isn’t as generous as me.” He grinned and Alex pushed her arm
through his and they walked into reception and found Jericho was already
signing for keys and arranging the luggage to be taken to their rooms. He
smiled broadly; “Father Adam’s should be here by this afternoon.” Everyone
smiled at that; they all liked the old priest. [See the episode ‘Sister Sarah dreams of demons’ Series 2 –
Episode: 7.]
Jericho and Alex had
their own room each and Wilson shared with Owen. They were on floor twelve and
Jericho would share with Father Adam’s when he turned up. Unusually, he didn’t
mind sharing with his old friend. He respected the old priest and was actually
looking forward to the conversations the pair would have. After they settled in
their rooms; they met up in the hotel restaurant for lunch. It was excellent
and Owen had two helpings of everything ordered. After lunch they would meet up with Mo at the
haunted station.
Alex pointed out that
her door had two ‘Chubb’ locks and two heavy duty chains. She had also noticed
that there was a red ‘panic’ button by the bed’s headboard. “They take guest
security here quite seriously.” She told the others and Wilson chuckled; “They
sure do; a few years ago they had some guests murdered by burglars and the law
suit nearly broke the place.” Strangely enough that didn’t make Alex too happy!
Jericho called the
briefing to order and outlined what was being reported about the old station.
“The two vagrants were found dead by Mo’s workmen
last week and they appeared to have died of heart attacks. Both were in really
poor health and had received no medical care for their conditions, so that
wasn’t too strange. But what the living didn’t realize was that no souls were
collected, they are missing souls. The Pathologist who dealt with them believed
some kind of immense shock caused the pair’s demise. They basically saw
something that scared them to death!” Wilson flicked through his notebook and
grunted; “Demon Ingress reports that no demons were recorded in this area at
the time of their departures. So it has to be just the earth bound spirits that
apparently infest the place. One may have gone poltergeist.”
Owen chuckled; “What
about the bloody ghost train that was seen by nearly a dozen workmen, including
Mo Breckenridge who admitted to being a lifelong skeptic about the
supernatural. Now a manifestation of that strength is really unusual without
demonic presence.” Everyone nodded their agreement with Owens’s deduction.
Jericho continued; “The workman downed tools after seeing two men, one in an
old style suit and the other in an old combat uniform cross the platform and
walk straight through a wall. Now our two vagrants had been a banker and a
soldier. Bit of a co-incidence, don’t you think?”
Alex sipped her
coffee and said quietly; “If that was the souls of the two vagrants, then
someone or something is holding their souls in that place. Normally only a
demon could do that, but we know that there was no demonic activity about the
place. That’s really strange.” Jericho finished his coffee and tapped the cup
with a finger; “Then we’re left with only one option in this case; there must
be a witches Coven operating around here under a real Warlock, a warlock with
real powers granted by the Dark Prince himself. That makes him a really
dangerous foe and he certainly wouldn’t show up on Demon Ingresses records of
movement. We have to find him and strip him of those powers. That’s where
Father Adam’s will come in; he knows how to deal with such a man. Good human
against bad human.”
Alex actually
chuckled at the look on Wilson’s and Owens’s faces. “Come on you two! You know
that our Inspector is always several steps ahead of us in all our cases. He
already summoned the good Father before we even arrived.” She raised her coffee
cup to Jericho and smiled broadly; “Yet again Sir; our respect.” Both Wilson
and Owen muttered their agreement with her salute.
3. “LISTEN. I SMELL
SOMETHING.”
“I’ll stay up here
thank you very much.” Mo politely declined the team’s invitation to show
them about the old station and so they descended down the worn steps
into 153rd North Street Subway station. They stood on the South
Platform and everyone admired the beautiful ceiling murals. Owen consulted his
mirror and pointed towards a rusted metal door by the North bound tunnel
entrance. “That leads up to some offices and stores, staff restroom and the
like.” He wandered over and stared at the heavy door with Alex.
Wilson climbed down
and stood on the tracks and shone his mirror down the derelict tunnel. He
smiled at the discarded shovels and hard hats lying between the rails. “This
must be where Mo’s men first saw the bloody ghost train coming at them.” The
tunnel twisted a little left and right and disappeared into darkness. Jericho
stood by the edge and consulted his mirror; “According to my mirror there are
no less than five uncollected souls around the place.” He saw Owen and Alex
gesturing to him.
“This door has been
opened recently; it could have been Mo’s men.” Owen shouted over and he and
Alex managed to pull the door open. Owen shone his mirror down the metal stairs
and saw several footprints in the dirt and dust. “Yep, someone’s been down here
recently.” That’s when he stopped and wiped his face. He stood still and held
up a hand; “Listen. I smell something.” Alex just sighed and peered down the
staircase. She held a hand over her mouth for a few seconds. “Jericho, you best
get over here because I think there’s a human heart and other bits decomposing
at the foot of these stairs.” Jericho didn’t argue how she knew that; she was a
doctor after all.
He helped Wilson back
onto the platform and they joined Owen and Alex by the old door. Owen tapped
his mirror; “They use to belong to a certain Harold Polanski who died six days
ago and is a missing soul. His death was unscheduled and there’s been no
temporal team assigned to it yet, despite the Collector calling it in.” He looked
up from his mirror and then sighed; “Correct that. Operations have just
assigned us the case!”
“Do a body search and
find the rest of him.” Was all Jericho said and consulted his own mirror. Owen
almost smiled; “He’s down here somewhere in one
of the rooms. Well, the rest of him I mean.” Alex grabbed the stair rail and
started to descend with Owen close behind. Jericho and Wilson followed. They
found the late Harold Polanski in the old canteen/restroom. His decomposing
corpse lay on a big metal table; there were black candles and black sheets
scattered about the floor and footprints everywhere in the dust. A bucket
caught Alex’s eye and she peered in; “I think his stomach and other organs
including his penis are dumped in this.”
Jericho sighed; “Full
on Black Magic ritual with human sacrifice. They cut him up whilst still alive
I suspect. A gift for the Dark Prince to saviour.” She was kneeling by the
bucket and didn’t look happy. “I can’t be sure without a proper examination but
these organs were removed with some skill. A doctor, surgeon or good mortician
could be involved…or a very good butcher. Anyway, they were done with some
skill, almost like an autopsy. Except as you say Jericho; he was still alive
when it was done.”
Jericho shouted a
couple of times. “Harold Polanski!” and they watched without any emotion or
surprise as the little man came through the wall and stood staring at them.
Jericho turned to Owen to call a Collector, but saw he was already doing that.
He smiled at Harold and asked what happened. The small man wrapped his arms
about himself; he was wearing a shabby suit and appeared unwashed and
disheveled. He had clearly been a vagrant when alive.
“They promised me
some whisky and food; she promised she would take care of my pains. I suffered
with terrible pains in my stomach and back. She told the others it was probably
cancer. I didn’t question them; they were so nice and helpful. I mean you trust
the Sally Army and a fucking doctor don’t you?”
Alex rose from the
bucket; “She was a doctor you say?” He nodded and almost smiled; “At the mercy
Hospital. She gave me an appointment and some pain killers which were great.”
He stopped smiling; “Then when I woke up….I was here….they cut me, they were
all naked with a big man wearing a goats head. I pleaded and screamed but they
just cut me….cut me up…like a piece of beef. “ He stared at his rotting body
and sat quietly on the floor. Suki the Collector appeared and the team greeted
her with some warmth. “One for you Suki, I think.” Jericho muttered, but had a few more
questions before Harold was taken to the light; finally. The
team stood back on the platform and Jericho rubbed his chin; they would have to
report the finding of the human remains to the police, but they couldn’t
explain how they knew the details of his murder or who the murderers actually
were.
“So we have a certain
Doctor Pascoe at the Mercy Hospital and an unknown captain from the Salvation
Army who is probably the bloody Warlock, I suspect.” He spoke quietly and
checked his mirror again. Wilson folded his arms; “That hospital is about four
blocks away and that’s the only place people like Harold could go to get any
sort of medical help. I wonder how many of the other lost souls were street
people?”
Jericho nodded;
“That’s a good point. We need to visit the place and get a look at this deadly
Satan loving doctor and her Captain of Salvation. They couldn’t have a better
cover to pick up people for their gruesome rituals; people who nobody would
even miss or know had been killed. Come on.” The team in a very subdued mood
headed up the stairs to tell Mo that he had bigger problems than just ghosts to
deal with.
The young woman
watched the team depart and smoothed down her dress, she was joined by the
soldier and the disgraced banker who asked her about the four strangers.
“I don’t know who they were but they helped Harry and they now know about
those evil bastards. They may be able to help you two?” The
soldier nodded; “And you Kath.” She shook her head and stared at the
tracks; “No, I threw everything away and I’m condemned to stay here as
punishment. There is no heaven for the likes of me.”
She stared again at
the tracks and could see the stupid young woman running towards the platform
edge and the train driver’s face as she appeared in front of him. That was in
1925 and she relieved that day over and over again. She now asked herself daily
why she didn’t go with that nice young man towards that bright light. She
sighed and the three lost souls were gone.
From the shadows of
the old toilets came another figure that stood on the deserted platform and
stared up the staircase towards the bright light of day. He shuffled back into
the darkness and checked his little fob watch. It was always 5.45pm. He
disappeared back into the shadows and was gone, cursing his luck.
Mo almost had a
coronary there and then when Jericho informed him of the body and cursing like
a banshee, walked quickly to the Italian café to summon the police. The team
stood on the deserted pavement, which had been closed off the length of the
station frontage. That’s when two ‘brother’s’ called out to Wilson from the
busy sidewalk opposite. Everyone looked at each other; they had called Wilson
by his name!
They can strolling
over and stood by the barrier. Wilson actually groaned and ran a hand over his
face. “Bloody fingers and the bear! What chance meeting those two here and
now!” Alex had her arm through his and smiled; “Friends of yours big man?”
Wilson shook his head; “No, they were a couple of brother’s that I paid for
information about dealers. They shouldn’t be here; they never use to leave
Queens.”
Jericho almost
smiled; “That’s the chance you take dropping back into a time and place you
were active in when alive. See what they want.” Wilson nodded and said; “Money
probably.” and walked over to the barrier. Owen tapped Alex; “He knows some
interesting people; I mean bloody fingers and the bear?” Alex smiled; “Just
street names, I’ll explain it sometime.”
The sound of police
sirens could be heard and Mo was returning to the station and he certainly
wasn’t smiling. “Keep your statements short and succinct, we don’t want bloody
Shakespeare.” Jericho cautioned his team as the first police car came to halt
by the barriers.
4. “WE’RE THE GHODST BUSTERS.”
The big homicide
detective sergeant fascinated Owen, who couldn’t understand how the big sweaty
man could hold a cigar between his teeth, talk and chew gum all at the same
time. “It will be called multi-tasking later on down the century.” Alex
reassured him. He stood notebook in hand and just shook his head. “So, run that
past me again. You say you’re Supernatural and paranormal event investigators
from Boston University here to study, catalogue and document spectral activity
at this old subway station?” Jericho nodded and smiled. The big sergeant just
stared at him for nearly a minute. Jericho stopped smiling and sighed; “We’re
the Ghost Busters.”
Alex and Owen
chuckled at that.
“Ah, now I
understand.” The big sergeant called over to Wilson and wagged his pencil at him;
“How the hell did you get over here from 19th precinct so damn
quick? I just saw you heading to the Bronx with that little Italian partner of
yours.’’ Wilson just nodded and smiled; “Had to stop and see a friend
sergeant.” Alex held up her hand and smiled;
“Sorry sergeant I insisted.”
The sergeant stared
at her and shook his head in disbelieve and turned back to Wilson; “For Christ
sake Franklyn! That’s some sno bunny you have there! Does that wife of yours
know?” he chuckled and gestured his three uniform colleagues down the subway
stairs and followed; still laughing.
“Snow bunny? What the
hell is a bloody snow bunny?” Alex asked and Wilson smiled; “Just a slang term
for a white woman or girl that likes black men.” He shrugged his shoulders and
Jericho asked him what his other friends wanted. “Help – for once – finger’s
cousin ‘Honeybunny’ is missing. He wants me to take a look at it. She’s been
gone a couple of days now.”
Owen rubbed his chin;
“These people seem obsessed with bloody rabbits.” He looked across the road at
the billboard advertising the ‘Bunny Club’. He shook his head; “Bloody
obsessed.” He muttered and Wilson continued; “This is the best bit and will
certainly get your interest; Honeybunny was complaining about small hives on
her back, thought she might be allergic to something and so she had an
appointment with a doctor at the Mercy hospital. Guess the name of the doctor?”
Jericho nodded; “If
that’s the case, we need to find her quickly and so I think a visit to the
doctor is on the cards; undercover of course and that’s one for you and Alex my
friend.” Wilson nodded; “We’ll get an appointment with the doctor and see what
transpires.” The team headed for their station wagon and returned to the hotel
to find Father Adam’s waiting for them. They were all a little shocked to see
how much he had aged from their last encounter which was back in 1958 when he
was still relatively young. He commented on the fact that they hadn’t changed a
bit.
He, Jericho and Owen
sat in the hotel restaurant whilst Wilson and Alex changed into their disguises
and set off for the hospital. “So I’m dressed like an expensive hooker because
that’s how ‘Sno-Bunny’s’ dress?”
Alex asked as she held onto Wilson’s hand, walking towards the
hospital. He grinned and said; “Of course and you really look the part!” He
smiled at her outfit; very short ‘hot pants’,
white heels and bare legs. A bright red blouse tied around the waist which
struggled to retain her magnificent breasts without the assistance of a bra;
dark classes and her long dark hair tied in a pony tail. A huge flowery knitted
bag was slung over her shoulders.
Several ‘brother’s’
called after the pair; shouting at Wilson about his ‘Sno Bunny’. Wilson ignored
them, but took a causal look at her bum in those shorts. He groaned and said;
“Alex your bloody arse is like a peach and hanging out those damn shorts. No
wonder we’re attracting attention.”
Alex just grinned;
“So you want me cover up?” Wilson now grinned; “Don’t go putting words in this
brother’s mouth….” They both laughed and entered the out patients. Wilson
stopped in his tracks as the young woman ran down the steps and stood staring
at him and Alex. “What the fuck are you doing ni…” she exclaimed and folded her
arms. Alex released Wilson’s hand and smiled; “Hi, detective Alex Cappanni,
it’s nice to meet you.” Wilson coughed and said “Celeste this is my partner for
this operation; Detective Alex Cappanni from the 23rd precinct.”
The woman held a hand
over her mouth and then laughed; “Sweet Jesus Wilson; No wonder your wearing
that honky white dude suit and hanging around with some white bitch. You’re
playing a pimp and his crack head hooker!” Wilson laughed and nodded; “Spot on
Celeste.” And held up a finger up to his lips and smiled. She nodded and whispered
to Alex; “Shit girl, that’s the best disguise I’ve seen. You really look like a
paid white whore. Hell, that’s good.” She wished them well and ran down the
steps, calling for a cab.
Wilson didn’t smile;
“Celeste is my sister-in-law; Lizzie’s sister.”
Alex patted his
shoulder; “Your other self may be a little confused when he gets home tonight.”
and smiled. Wilson just sighed and they walked in the reception area. He
stopped and didn’t smile; “Shit! This time travel lark really messes with your
head. I now remember Lizzie asking me about some undercover gig with a white
officer who really did look like a hooker. I just played along; didn’t want to
spend hours arguing with her about her daft sister and what she may have seen. Nothing came of it and I must have forgotten
all about it.”
In the privacy of
Jericho’s hotel room, Father Adam’s pulled his notebook from his battered old
‘Gladstone’ bag and a large brown envelope. “I was intrigued when you told me
about the earth bound spirits at the Subway station. So I’ve done some
homework. Here’s a map of the area with all unusual sightings
Over the last fifty
years. Everything appears to have started soon as contractors broke ground for
the station back in 1895.” He pulled a Zerox copy from the envelope and showed
a red circle drawn around the streets surrounding the station. There were red
dots everywhere. “I also think I know why the ‘Black Goat Witches Coven
operates from there. You go back to a map drawn up in 1710 and you see that the
area now covered by the station and a couple of blocks surrounding it were
sacred ground to the Lenape Indians. It was a burial ground for them.”
Jericho nodded;
“Well, that would certainly attract our Devil worshippers to the area. Did the
original contractors report finding skeletons and Indian artifacts?” Father
Adam’s nodded; “Didn’t delay the city fathers at that the time; they just slung
the remains away at a city landfill site and carried on. That’s how they
treated native Indians in those days.”
“So what do we have
on this ‘Black Goat Witches Coven’ Father?” Jericho asked and father Adam’s
pulled more papers from the envelope and opened his rough old notebook. “The
Vatican has quite a record on them. They are one of the oldest covens on the
East coast; been in existence since about the 1820’s. This particular nasty
individual is the known Warlock now.” He slapped a black & white photograph
on the coffee table. “Wallace Edward Coalman did seventeen years in Rochester
Penitentiary for a sex murder when just eighteen. Apparently in prison he
became a born again Christian and a model prisoner. He was released a couple of
years ago and is now a captain in the Salvation Army; working amongst the poor
and homeless. But he’s the local Warlock all right.”
Father Adam’s pointed
to an entry in his notebook; “Whilst in prison he shared a cell for some years
with John Abbott; yes, that John Abbot.” Jericho sighed and rubbed his chin;
“How did Temporal Intelligence miss that cracker?” Owen tapped the photograph;
“Who was John Abbott?” Jericho smiled a little; “A four time child murderer who
died in prison; they would never have released that animal back into society.
He was also a practicing black
witch and surprise, surprise no soul was collected when he died. He
terrorized the other inmates and the staff; he had actually sold his soul for
real powers form the Dark Prince and I have no doubt that Coalman has done the
same; too much of a co-incidence otherwise.” Father Adam’s agreed with that
assessment and Owen lifted the photograph.
“He’s probably out
there now, amongst the homeless and destitute, picking his next sacrifice. The
fucking arsehole.” Owen said quietly, adding; “They’re perfect victims. No one
will even notice they have vanished, never mind been killed and who would suspect
a Salvation Army captain and a bloody doctor?”
5. “THERE’S SOMETHING
VERY STRANGE ABOUT THAT MAN.”
It was almost
midnight when the team arrived at the subway station and the street was
unusually deserted for such a warm summer night. Jericho lifted the ‘Police –
Do not cross’ tape and they descended down the stairs after Wilson had dealt
with the padlocks on the old metal gates. “They must have another way into the
station, these padlocks are untouched. Well, until now.” He said quietly and
they gathered on the dark derelict platform, switching on their mirrors to
illuminate the place.
Jericho stood right
by the Northern Tunnel entrance and shone his mirror down. “Come on, this way I
think.” They carefully lowered themselves onto the rusted rails and make their
way up the tunnel. They walked for at least ten minutes before they saw the
carriage, tilting a little to the right, ahead of them. “Probably been down
here since the station closed in 1929, would be a museum piece if they could
get the damn thing out of here.” Owen said quietly. Everyone suddenly stopped
as the noise and vibrations came over them; “A subway train passing on the new
line.” Jericho said and consulted his mirror as Owen and Alex climbed up the
rear of the carriage and pulled open the door.
They shone their
mirrors in and Alex said quietly; “Jericho, I think you best come and see this.
There’s a passenger sitting here reading a paper!” Jericho just stared at her
and then quickly made his way over with Father Adam’s and Wilson just behind.
They joined Owen and Alex in the carriage and the young man lowered his paper
and checked his fob watch; it was 5.45pm of course.
“Good evening Jericho
and I do believe I have the honour – at last – of meeting you Father Adam’s.”
he smiled and pushed his watch back into his waistcoat pocket and slapped the
old paper back onto the seat. He stood and thrust both hands into his dark
black trousers and smiled at Alex, bowing a little. “You truly are a beautiful
woman Lady Alexandra. It’s a privilege to meet you.”
He nodded to Wilson
and Owen and sighed. “Well, are you going to introduce me to your team
Jericho?”
Jericho nodded;
“People, I would like you to meet Alistair Tibbs, you could say he was my
younger brother, but there’s only three minutes between us. We are twins, not
identical one’s so we just call ourselves brothers, not twin brothers.”
The young man did an
elaborate bow and held up both hands. “I bet my dear brother has never
mentioned he had a twin brother in the same field so as to speak.” Everyone
stood in shocked silence until Alex finally said; “No, he never mentioned you,
may I ask why that is?” she directed her question to Jericho who stood
clutching his mirror. He sighed loudly; “Alistair works for a special section
of the Temporal Investigations Directorate; they report directly to Arch-Angel
Michael and really have no rank structure; they are called Special Agents.”
Wilson nodded; he had
heard of them, but never met one in person. They were legends in the
department; they normally received their assignments directly from the big man
himself. Strangely enough, he wasn’t surprised that a brother of Jericho’s had
reached such a position. It meant one thing; they were bloody good at their
job. No one actually knew what powers himself had bestowed upon his ‘Special
Agents’ – they certainly weren’t knights - but probably possessed the powers of
Guardians. They appeared to be something in-between the two.
“What brings you here
Alistair?” Jericho asked and everyone noticed the coldness between the two
brothers. “Oh, just paying a flying visit to my dear brother, seeing how he’s
getting on. It’s been a while since we met up.” Jericho nodded; “About ninety
human years if I remember.” Alistair smiled; “I’m flattered you remember
brother dear.” Jericho gestured to him with his mirror; “So what’s the real
reason you’re here Alistair? Or can’t you reveal your mission – like usual – to
mere temporal detectives.”
Alistair didn’t
smile; “I’m hurt that you think that. But you’re right of course, I
can’t say. What I can say is that you watch your back very carefully on this
one. The witch’s coven covers something far more sinister than just human
sacrifice and worship of Prince David. Coalman’s mentor John Abbott was a very
special pet project of the Prince. All I can say is watch for the dark light my
dear bother and keep your little team close; especially Alexandra.
Remember our dear Prince Jesus was betrayed by a kiss.” He was gone.
There was silence for
a few minutes and finally Owen tapped his chin;” "There's something very strange about that man." Jericho
nodded; “Amen to that, now let’s get on.” Alex and Wilson exchanged a glance;
they both knew that Jericho had not been pleased to see his brother and what
the hell did he mean about Alexandra? The team jumped down from the carriage
and continued walking in silence for another few minutes before Jericho stopped
them. He shone his mirror at a rusting door marked ‘MAINTENCE ONLY’ and nodded;
“I think we’ll find that this leads up into a building at street level. This
could be their entrance to the subway station and tunnels from above.
Wilson and Owen eased
the big door open and could see that it opened readily. Someone had definitely
been using it recently. That’s when the tracks beneath their feet started to
vibrate and they pressed against the wall and watched in amazement as a train
rushed past them, disappearing into the darkness. Owen finally managed to say;
“For fuck sake! Did you see that? It had people sitting in the carriages; I
mean they looked like real people, reading papers and smoking!”
Jericho grunted; “By
the style of their clothes, they were supposed to be from the 1920’s. Our
Warlock manifest’s them to scare off any intruders and keep up the ghost story
cover for this place. But it also means he knows we’re here.”
Father Adam’s stepped
through the open door muttering; “Smoke and mirrors will not help you my dark
friend.” Everyone followed and ascended the stairs very carefully. They came to
a dingy corridor lit by a single bulkhead lamp. They could hear voices and
music coming from behind a black painted door. Wilson gripped the bar and
looked at Jericho who just nodded and Wilson leaned down on the bar and pushed
the door open; they rushed in and stood in silence. Alex and Owen started to chuckle and were soon
joined by Wilson.
They were in a packed
New York disco with ‘Outa Space’ by Billy Preston playing. Two young girls
passed by them, giggling. They wore very little apart from real short
mini-skirts and cotton vests. One grinned at Owen and gestured to the busy
dance floor; a glass in one hand and a cigarette in the other. “Let’s get it
on!”
she shouted and Owen
just stared at her. Wilson shoved him hard towards her. “Well, go on baby
brother.” Both girls grabbed him and dragged him onto the dance floor. Jericho
gestured to the bar; “The first one’s on me.” They gathered around the bar and
Jericho ordered drinks and they sat in a booth by the toilets. Father Adam’s
received a few stares as did Alex and Wilson when they took to the dance floor
and strutted their funky stuff!
Father Adam’s leaned
over the dirty, glass strewn table and grinned; “May as well make a night of
it, before we head back into the fray!” Jericho chuckled and knocked back his
bourbon in one hit. “Amen to that Father.” was all he said.
6. “WE’RE READY TO
BELIEVE YOU.”
Alex and Wilson
slumped onto their chairs; grinning and laughing. “I didn’t think I’d feel over
dressed in this outfit.” Alex shouted over the throbbing music and Wilson
chuckled. “It’s the heat in here.” He said and stared at two young women
dancing right in front them. They were wearing nothing but hot pants and bras.
They were giggling and giving each other an occasional kiss and hug. Father
Adam’s returned from the toilets as Jericho placed down another tray of drinks.
He smiled; “There’s a young couple having sex in a toilet cubicle; they didn’t
bother to close the door.” He accepted his whisky from Jericho and added
without smiling; “Two young men are sprawled on the floor shooting dope, sharing
the needle. Very stupid.” He sipped his whisky.
“What happened with
Doctor Death? Jericho pulled Wilson close and he waved a hand around; “She
wouldn’t see us. The receptionist practically told us to bugger off. It appears
she only helps the real underprivileged. Probably though I was a pimp or
something!” Jericho nodded; “Well your friends cousin hasn’t had her soul
collected – yet – so she’s still around and alive.” Wilson then looked up and
groaned; “Talk of the bloody devil.” Now that made Jericho sit up
until he realized that Wilson had spotted ‘Fingers’ and ‘The
Bear’ heading to their table. He stood and greeted the grinning
pair who squeezed in and Fingers grinned at Alex; “Hi baby
sister, do you move right to the grooves?” Wilson saw the look on her face and
whispered in her ear; “He means do you dance?” Alex managed a nod and Fingers
grabbed her hand and dragged her onto the dance floor. The bear just sat
grinning; he was clearly stoned.
Jericho sighed and
said to Father Adam’s; “Dante knew what he was writing about.” And the priest
agreed with a smile. That’s when they heard the shouting and whistles. Wilson
slapped a hand over his face and shouted; “It’s a bloody drugs raid! Let’s get
the fuck out of here; this may take some explaining.” Jericho agreed with that
and they headed for the open exit that they had come through earlier; scooping
up Owen – and the two drunk girls – then Alex and Fingers. Alex was quite happy
about the interruption; she had found out why he was called ‘fingers’.
They slipped through
the door and Wilson slammed it behind them. They made their way down the dingy
corridor and back down into the tunnels. The bear stood in the darkened tunnel
– lit only by the teams mirrors – and asked Wilson if Evening Mass had started;
grinning at Father Adam’s.
They made their way
back through the tunnels and climbed onto the south bound platform. Both girls
had their arms through Owens’s and were all over him. Fingers wouldn’t let go
of Alex despite her protests. They stood on the platform and Jericho gathered
them together. He gestured up the stairs and told them to leave quietly, then
realized just how clean everything was. Everyone stood looking around; the
posters were all new and quite readable and Owen noticed that the peanut
machine was full.
Jericho pulled out
his mirror and sighed; wiping his face. “It’s the 12th July 1925 and
the sun will be up in twenty minutes and this station will be opened for
business. We’ve slipped back in time!” Fingers finally let go of Alex’s hand
and grinned; “Man, your shitting me, that’s some crazy gig right there!” The
Bear just laughed and asked if the Italian Pizza palace was open. The two girls
just giggled and wouldn’t let go of Owen. Father Adam’s tapped Jericho and
dourly said; “I think your brother could have warned us about a rouge time
portal. Little wonder people have been reporting ghosts
around the place for years.” Jericho nodded and consulted
his mirror again. He didn’t have much choice because he
could hear the metal station gates being opened and voices of
the staff coming on duty.
He activated his
mirror and the morning staff found an empty platform; except they all swore
they could smell alcohol and perfume. The group stood on the deserted platform
and a couple rats scampered past them. Jericho checked his mirror and found it was 1972.
They emerged into the early morning sunlight and found several New York
Policemen staring at them, standing around their patrol cars eating doughnuts
and drinking coffee.
Jericho grinned and
said ‘Good morning officers.” and started to walk towards the road barriers. A
big uniformed sergeant held up a hand and smiled. “Excuse me sir; but would you
mind explaining what the hell you were doing down there, intoxicated and
dressed for a bloody party?” Jericho slowly smiled; “well, actually…” Fingers
interrupted the pair.
Fingers waved his
arms about; “Wow! Sergeant Murphy we all were digging it, you know, grooving
and moving, doing our thing. Then Pow! Slap! Bang! We grooved back in time; the
old days man. You know before now. It was unreal man. Crazy!” The Bear asked
the sergeant if he had any pizza on him. The two drunken young girls giggled
and shouted at the sergeant that they had been dancing with a novice monk and
he was really cool. A bad version of Donny Osmond, they both agreed.
The sergeant stared
at Jericho and Father Adam’s who both shrugged their shoulders; “They’ve had a
real good time sergeant.” Was all Jericho said and the sergeant just smiled;
“We’re ready to believe you.” He muttered.
7. "YOU DON’T ACT
LIKE A SCIENTIST. YOU’RE MORE LIKE A GAME SHOW HOST."
Phil DeVine wasn’t
impressed about being called to the precinct station at 7am to bail the
visitors from Boston out. “We only did it because we got a call from the
Cardinal’s Office in Boston about the old priest. As for you; you don’t act
like a scientist. You’re more like a game show host.” Jericho just nodded and
the team trailed into their hotel and made straight for the restaurant; they
were serving breakfast.
After filling their
faces, the team split and grabbed some sleep before meeting up again before
lunch. Wilson dropped off Owen a couple of blocks away
in a down town area where the vagrants, drunks and homeless hung about. He was
disguised as a ‘down & out’. Jericho, Alex and Father Adam’s sat in the
back of a van supplied by operations, which was parked opposite where Owen was
dosed down and settled in. “He’s certainly making friends.”
chuckled Alex as Owen
was accosted by other vagrants and drunks trying to get
money or drink off him. They must have waited about an hour with Alex
constantly moaning about the heat in the van. She was soon sitting just her hot
pants and blouse again. The only break in the tedium of the surveillance was
when two youngsters tried to force open the front passenger door. Jericho
suddenly appeared behind the seat and they ran off. That’s when Alex said
quietly; “I think he’s here.”
Wilson buzzed Jericho
to say that Doctor Pascoe had arrived in a black sedan and was parked around
the corner. He was sitting in the station wagon and had a good view of Owen and
the team’s van. He did ask how much moaning Alex had done.
The team watched as a
three Salvation Army people decamped from a marked van and opened the doors.
The vagrants started to form an orderly queue behind the doors. Jericho jabbed
a finger at a small man in uniform who was directing the feeding. “That’s our
man alright.” They watched as Coalman walked amongst the homeless and
desperate, talking with each in turn. “Maybe he missed his vocation. He should
have been an actor.” Grunted Alex who was now perspiring and yes; she was
moaning about that too.
“Bingo, we have touch
down.” Alex muttered as Coalman approached Owen and the pair stood talking.
Jericho took a sip from his water bottle and offered it to Alex who declined;
she needed something stronger! Alex operated her mirror and read for a minute
or two. “He belongs to this time and place and is not scheduled for departure
until 1986, when he’s killed in a burglary at his home. No suspect was caught
or convicted for that one, but Human Records show it was a certain May-Lee
Curtis; a troubled teenage girl who stabbed him to death in the bath.”
Father Adam’s nodded;
“Does it say if she was in the bath Alex?” That made Alex chuckle; “You dirty
old devil Father, but no it doesn’t give us that information; Jericho would
have to get permission to view
the life record to discover that.” Jericho sat back and rubbed his chin; “Our
Owen has already queued twice for the bread and
soup and scoffed the lot. Coalman is back talking to him; the bastard is
interested; I think he’s taken the bait.”
Jericho pushed the orb back into his jacket pocket; there had been no
signals showing any demonic presence. “So it’s just bloody evil humans to deal
with – at the moment.” He whispered to himself, a little relieved.
The team watched as
the Salvation Army people packed away their mobile kitchen and the van drove
off. Wilson reported that the black sedan with
the doctor was still parked up. “Owen can’t join us until she goes.” Father
Adam’s stated and the team had to wait another fifteen minutes before doctor
Pascoe departed. Wilson picked up Owen and headed back to the hotel. The van
followed.
They gathered in
Jericho’s rooms and Alex waved a hand over her face; “For heaven’s sake Owen,
get a shower!” His disguise had been that good. He even ruefully admitted to
pissing over his shabby coat for authenticity. Wilson groaned; “I bloody
wondered about that awful smell in the damn car.” Owen just grinned and made his
report; “Coalman told me that they run a hostel over on Grant Square and I
should make my way there. It’s for young homeless people. He really played it
up saying the people there will help me get a job or get me back into
education. Funnily enough, he also mentioned I need some clean clothes. The
place is an old hall apparently, named after some bleeding general.”
Wilson nodded; “Grant
Square – in this time and place – is a rundown area of the Bronx and the hall
he’s talking about is called the General Custer. Fifty years ago the square and
surrounding streets were quite affluent; now it’s just effluent.” Alex liked that description and stood by the
little fan on the floor; cooling down. None of the men complained about the
sweet smell of perfume and perspiration that now spread around her. Wilson
whispered to Owen; “Now that’s a little scent of heaven baby brother.” and
chuckled at the puzzled look on Owen’s face.
Jericho lowered his
mirror and thanked Owen for his efforts. “Well, you are going to take him up on
his generous offer and get a bed at the hostel. Stay in character; I’ll have
your dinner sent up to your room, I don’t think a posh hotel like this is quite
that charitable.” Wilson groaned at that; he was sharing a room with him. “I wonder if the
bloody hotel will object to me moving my bed into the corridor.” He told Alex
and meant it.
That evening Owen was
dropped off a block from the hostel. Wilson was right about the state of the
local area; derelict shops, old cars, pimps and hookers with numerous vacant
and boarded up tenement blocks. The van passed a blazing car surrounded by
youngsters who threw anything they could pick up, at them.
Wilson spotted a big
red, brand new Cadillac driving slowly packed with young
black men. “Jesus Christ, that’s a local drug dealer called ‘General Jackson’.
I busted him a couple of times when I was on the drugs squad. He’s a clever
bastard; his lawyer got him off both times. He also supports the local Black
Panther group with money and it’s suspected, with guns too.” Wilson said dourly
and turned the van into Grant Square, adding; “We need to keep a close eye on
Owen; a young white dude around her – a vagrant or not – will be a target for
the gangs around here.”
Alex was now
concerned and called Owen on his mirror to keep his bloody eyes open and stay
alert. Jericho chuckled; “Is that the mother in you coming out our Alex?” She
just ignored him. Wilson parked in a quiet alleyway and switched off the
engine. They watched as Owen ran up the steps into the hall and Alex sighed
with relief. Father Adam’s patted her arm; “He’ll be fine my dear. He’ll know
when to yell for help.”
They waited for about
twenty minutes with Alex constantly checking her mirror for Owen’s call. Then
she looked up as Wilson cursed and said angrily; “They’re never around when you
need them, but appear when you bloody don’t!” She saw the black & white
police car pass slowly across the front of the alleyway. A few seconds later it
reversed slowly back and a torch was shone down the alleyway. “Fuck!” was all
Wilson said and gave a couple of flashes on the van’s headlamps. “Leave Wilson
to do the talking.” Was all Jericho said.
One patrol man jumped
from the car – his service revolver out – and shouted for them to get out the
van; with their hands in full view. The other was cop was leaned on the roof
with a pump action scatter gun pointed at them. Wilson slipped from the van;
both hands held up and shouted for the patrolman with the pistol on him to
stand down. “Detective Wilson Frankyln from Homicide!” he shouted
and gestured into his jacket. The patrolman gestured
for him to come forward, but the other cop was already walking around the
police car; shotgun now over his shoulder, he shouted;
“Wilson you mad bastard; what the hell are you doing here
and who are your playmates?”
Wilson laughed; “Fuck
me, I thought you retired last year Ernie!”
They stood talking
just inside the alleyway and both patrolmen were annoyed that they could have
blown a stakeout by Homicide. “Nah, we weren’t told anything about a bloody night operation in
the square Wilson. Shit! Someone has fucked up.” Ernie groaned
and Wilson slapped his arm; “You know what that new Inspector is like; couldn’t
organize a piss up in an Irish pub. He’s straight out of city hall. Must know
someone in the fucking Commissioners office.” The other cop laughed at that.
That’s when they
heard the shouting and the sounds of glass smashing followed by several shots.
The two cops dived for cover behind their car and Wilson ran back to the van. “Keep
your heads down!” he yelled as he jumped back in. The patrolmen were shouting
into their radio; two gangs were fighting and now spilling into the square.
There were multiple shots and a car crashed into an empty shop with three
Hispanic boy’s crawling from it. The driver was dead behind the wheel. They
were firing their guns and screaming. Only the team could see the Collector
gathering up the boy’s soul.
Flames and smoke was
now pouring from an abandoned building as petrol bombs were thrown. “The blacks
and Hispanic’s are fighting over the drug and prostitution trade!” Wilson
shouted to the others who kept low in the van. The two police officers were now
firing their guns and sirens could be heard in the distance. “Some quiet
surveillance job this turned out to be.” Muttered Jericho and buzzed Owen’s
mirror; there was no answer. “Where the fuck are you boy?” he added, now
concerned.
Above in the night
sky a bright light was sweeping down; a police helicopter was now over the
square and police reinforcements were arriving in strength. The square and
surrounding streets were in riot and uproar. “Time to fuck off!” was all
Jericho shouted and operated his mirror. The van was now empty.
The team arrived
outside the lighthouse with some relief until they realized that Owen wasn’t
there. Jericho actually cursed loudly and operated his mirror again. “Where the
fuck is he?” he shouted and the team
returned to the van. They immediately noticed the police car across the alley
way entrance was ablaze and there was no sign of the two patrolmen. The place
was in full riot with the gangs
fighting openly in the streets. Jericho operated his mirror again and the team
appeared by the doors of the general Custer hall; Wilson shoved open the big
doors and the team fell through; bullets thudding into the woodwork around
them.
“You certainly know
how to show a lady a good time!” Alex shouted at Wilson who
slammed the big doors shut and dragged a large wooden bench across them. Father
Adam’s stood by the inner door and waved everyone over; the hall was in
darkness and completely derelict. There were no beds, no helpers, no vagrants
and certainly no Owen.
“This place is no
fucking hostel.” Wilson shouted and switched his mirror’s torch on, sweeping
the huge room. It hadn’t seen people in a long time. Jericho checked his mirror
and did a body check for Owen. “Found him, come on!” Jericho pushed through a
big door marked HALL MANAGER ONLY and found a staircase spiraling downwards.
“Is he OK?” shouted Alex, now really concerned for her friend. Jericho just
gestured to follow him. They found a locker room and Wilson basically knocked
the door off its hinges and shone his torch in.
Owen was sprawled
across an old table, groaning and holding his head and ribs; he had been given
quite a kicking. Alex and Wilson pulled him gently up and Jericho asked; “What
the fuck happened?” Alex gave him her hipflask and he took a big swig. “They
jumped me soon as I appeared; three of them and dragged me down here. They
would have killed me but the big fella with one-eye stopped them, soon as he
thought I was a cop. But they stole my mirror. Sorry.” Jericho patted his arm; “Why did they think
you were a cop?” he asked.
Owen - with a shaking
hand - picked up the gold badge from the floor; “Wilson gave me his old
detective badge just in case I needed to pretend I was. Thought it might come
in handy and it certainly bloody did!” Alex leaned across and kissed Wilson
with some force and just smiled. Wilson shrugged his shoulders; “Best idea I’ve
had in a long time.” No-one disagreed with; especially Owen!
“I take it Coalman
wasn’t one of them. He’s too clever to get his own hands dirty.” Jericho sighed
and then added; “Come on, our cover’s been blown.”
He operated his mirror and the team arrived back at Jericho’s
hotel rooms, where Alex patched up Owen and father Adam’s poured brandies and
handed them around. “If they think Owen was an undercover cop, then they will
close down their evil operations for a while. Maybe even move from the area.”
Father Adam’s concluded. Jericho nodded; he was already informing Operations
Control about the loss of the mirror, then he suddenly grinned and chuckled.
Alex and Wilson
exchanged a puzzled glance and Jericho rubbed his chin; “Taking the mirror was
the worst mistake they could make.”
8. “I’M FUZZY ON THE
WHOLE GOOD/BAD THING. WHAT DO YOU MEAN BAD?”
They sat in the old
van and it was Wilson’s turn to moan; “Bloody Supplies, giving us this piece of
junk just because the other van was burnt out in that bloody riot. It wasn’t
our fault.” He folded his arms and stared at the derelict church beyond the
wire fencing and the big notices telling people to keep out. “How long has this
place been closed up?” Owen asked him, sitting behind the driver. Wilson
sighed; “I think the local diocese closed it down in 65. It’s been the haunt of vagrants and drunks
ever since. I seem to remember they found a young woman’s murdered body in
there a few years ago. She was a hooker who met the wrong client.” Wilson
gripped the wheel and cussed again; “Bloody old Joe from Supplies doesn’t like
giving us his precious vans.”
Jericho lowered his
mirror; “Well, the signal is quite strong, Owen’s mirror is definitely in the
place – somewhere.” Owen sat back and didn’t smile; “I feel bloody naked
without it.” Alex smiled and patted his arm; “We’ll get it back baby brother.”
That made him smile; “You’re spending too much time with Wilson; your starting
to sound like him.”
Father Adam’s was
rummaging in his old bag and muttering to himself. Alex smiled at him; “What’s
up father?” He shook his head and then a smile crept over his face. He pulled
out a small glass tube sealed with red wax at one end. Alex peered at it; “What
is that father?” she asked and the old priest now smiled; “Tears my girl. Tears
of an angel.” He carefully pushed the little tube into his robes and Alex
stared at him; “Do you mean they’re actual tears from a angel?” the father
nodded and now relaxed a little. Owen rubbed
his face; “Can I ask how a living human got hold of angel’s tears, when our
angels – like the dark prince’s – can’t enter the realm of humanity?” Father
Adam’s grinned and jerked a thumb towards Jericho; “He got them for me.”
Jericho shrugged his
shoulders; “I told angel Margret a sad story and grabbed some; with her
permission of course. You don’t just go around shoving test tubes under an
angel’s nose….or rather eyes in this case.” Owen grunted and shifted in his
seat – the old van was bloody uncomfortable – he rubbed his chin again. “What
sad story?” Jericho chuckled; “Well, anyone concerning you actually.” Alex and
Wilson laughed at that and Jericho suddenly held up a hand and stared at his
mirror. “There are several humans in the old church and I think they’re moving
downwards; must be a crypt below the church. Now that’s unusual for a New York
Church.”
“Heads up; we have
visitors.” Wilson said quietly and the team watched a new van pull up at the
padlocked gates. A big man jumped from the passenger seat and unlocked the
gates for the van to pass. Owen slapped his hand down on the back of Wilson’s
seat. “That’s the big one eyed bugger that took my mirror!”
Jericho tapped his
mirror and looked quite grim; “Was the name of that missing friends of yours Susan
Grimes?” he asked Wilson who nodded; “Yeah, her street name is ‘Honeybunny’.”
Jericho lowered his mirror; “Well, she’s in the back of the van.” They watched
the big man padlock the gates behind the van and jump back in. The van
disappeared behind the church. “Bloody typical; devil worshippers and witches get
better vans than we do.” Owen said softly as he shifted on the seat which was
like sitting on stone.
Jericho said quietly;
“Set your mirrors to stun, I think we have a damsel in distress to rescue.”
Alex and Wilson pulled out their mirrors and everyone just stared at Owen who –
from under his seat – pulled a baseball bat and slapped a hand against it.
Wilson had to ask; “What the fuck are you doing with that?” Owen grinned;
“”It’s ok; I’ve set it stun only.” Father Adam’s slapped a hand over his face
and sighed. Jericho just shook his head; “Come on people, let’s get this done.”
They left the van and headed for the
church. “Nice night for it.” Owen told Father Adam’s who gripped his old bag
close to his chest. “Quite so young Owen, any night is nice, that we go after a
bunch of murdering, devil
worshipping witches in the name of our Father.” They pushed through some
fencing at the side of the church that Owen and Wilson had opened earlier and
made their way to the rear door. The sun was starting to sink and causing long
shadows to be cast around the old gravestones.
Wilson stopped by the
door and looked about; “Do you know I remember something about this old church
when I was alive. It happened a few years before I was killed in that liquor
store. I recall the papers carried a story about it.” He shook his head; “Can’t
recall the details now.” and forced the lock on the door.
They slowly crept into the gloomy church and
found the place in an utter state of disrepair. All the pews were missing and
the stone alter lay broken, there where holes in the roof and weather damage
everywhere. Jericho gestured towards the alter; “I think my mirror indicates an
entrance near there.” He said very quietly and a couple of pigeons flew past
the team and settled in the eaves. Alex
knelt by the broken alter stone and pointed to behind the huge crucifix with
the figure of Christ hanging to one side. “There appears to be some sort of
doorway there.”
Jericho cautiously
lead the team into the little dark doorway and everyone stood in silence; they
could hear chanting. “The ritual is on.” He whispered and slowly they descended
the stone steps and found themselves behind a dark curtain, he peered behind
the edge and nodded; “All stark naked and dancing around someone laid upon a big
stone table. Looks like it was taken from an old mortuary…” he hesitated and
then continued; “The Warlock’s here, wearing a goats head and carrying a bloody
big knife. There are seven of them; three women and four men.”
Jericho checked his
mirror and then pulled the orb from his jacket pocket and held it out. It
remained clear indicating no demonic presence. He almost smiled; “On my signal
we go; stun everyone.” He whispered and sighed at Owen slapping his bat on his
hand. He took a little breath and said; “Go!”
The temporal
detectives crashed the witch’s deadly little party with some surprise; they
rendered three unconscious immediately with their mirrors and the goat headed
knife carrying Warlock
received Owen’s bat over his headdress and he staggered around the room
screaming. The elaborate creation had shattered but the remains were forced
down over his face and he couldn’t get
it off. He ended up crawling around the
stone floor, cursing loudly and struggling with it. Owen kicked him up the
arse; purely for self satisfaction. Wilson managed to hit one of the escapers
and she fell to the floor, but the last two had gone through a dark little hole
in the rear wall.
Wilson hit the
struggling ‘Warlock’ with his mirror and the man lay still on the floor. Owen
really hat to pull to get the mask off; it was the one-eyed man. “So, where the
fuck is Coalman?” he asked the others. They checked the one’s they had got and
Coalman certainly wasn’t one of them. Doctor Pascoe wasn’t one of the fallen
women either. Jericho cursed; the two principal witches appeared to have
escaped – if they were actually here in the first place.
Alex was checking Ms
Susan Grimes who lay naked and drugged on the table. She wrapped the girl in
her jacket and shouted to the others; “She drugged but untouched, she’ll be
alright!” Father Adam’s had found a suitcase sized chest on a small table by
the foot of the table. He was impressed; “Jericho, look at this chest; it
appears Ancient Egyptian!” Jericho lowered his mirror and told the priest to
step away from it; fast. Father Adam’s didn’t argue with that order and backed
away.
The lid began to
shake a little and the chest appeared to be throbbing. Suddenly the lid flew
into the air and dark grey smoke started to flood from it. Father Adam’s was
already scrambling in his old bag and to everyone’s surprise; cussing like a
Liverpool docker. He gripped the small
glass tube in one hand and raised the cross in the other.
Through the smoke
appeared an Egyptian priest in full robes; dark robes indicating a priest of
Seth; the God who manifested evil in the ancient kingdom. It was Coalman and he
was smiling; “Hello my friends! But you are not welcome here being the
followers of the false God. I serve the true God; the Dark Prince and he command’s
me to rid you from his sacred place!”
Jericho sighed
loudly; “You really are a very bad person Wallace.”
Coalman ran a hand
over his face; “I’m fuzzy on the whole good/bad thing. What
do you mean bad?” He raised both hands above his head and shouted in Ancient
Egyptian. The chest crashed from its table and darkness spread from it like
water flooding quickly.
Father Adam’s shouted; “The Dark Light Jericho! What your brother warned you
about!” the light moved like ocean waves and spread around the floor; the team
found they couldn’t move, it was like being wrapped in cords of tight rope.
They couldn’t even operate their mirrors. Coalman was laughing and commanded
Alex to pick up the huge knife that lay upon the floor. She did so, despite
screaming no several times.
Coalman gestured
towards Jericho; “Woman! Send this dog back to his master!” Alex lifted the
knife and shuffled towards Jericho who was struggling with no success. The old
priest suddenly stopped struggling and said quietly; “God give your humble
servant strength.” He smiled and threw the little glass tube at Coalman; it
shattered at his feet and brilliant white light exploded; so much so that
everyone closed their eyes. The darkness was swept from the room and Jericho
pointed his mirror at the stunned Coalman and rendered him unconscious.
Alex dropped the
knife like it was burning hot and breathed deeply. “I couldn’t stop myself; it
was like someone else was controlling my movements.” She said quietly to Owen
who leaned over the prostate Coalman and pulled his mirror from the man’s
waistband. It immediately came to life and Owen patted it like a favourite pet
or child. “Nice to have you back Cedric.”
Wilson folded his
arms; “You call your mirror Cedric?” he asked with some astonishment in his voice.
Owen nodded; “He was an old monk at the monastery who was good to me; father
Adam’s reminds me of him a lot.” Everyone turned to the old priest and smiled.
Jericho slapped him on the shoulder; “Father, the drinks are on us tonight. But
where did the strength come to break that bastards spell?”
The old priest
grinned and jerked a thumb upwards; “From a loving power that has never let me
down.” Wilson chuckled, heaving ‘Honeybunny’ into his arms; “Amen to that
father. A bloody big amen at that.” Everyone chuckled and Jericho ran a hand
over his face and stared at the naked witches laid around the floor. “Now what
do we do with this bunch?” he asked himself and then smiled.
9. “I LOVE THIS TOWN!”
Wilson held up the
paper with his hands shaking with laughter and Owen joined in.
Alex had to find out what they were laughing at and jumped up from her armchair
and crossed the room. “Come on boys, what’s so funny?” she asked. Jericho and
Father Adam’s – who were playing chess – already, knew.
Alex took the paper
and stared at it in disbelieve; then started to laugh softly. She turned to
Jericho; “How the hell do you get away with this?” He just shrugged his
shoulders and returned to his game. The paper was full of the strange happening
at Rochester Prison; apparently a group of stark naked witches had set up a
‘Black Mass’ in the prison canteen and were found by the inmates who had turned
up for breakfast! The papers stated that
they had been charged with burglary of a federal building, outraging public morals
and assisting known felons. The paper also stated that one carried a notebook
in his own handwriting giving the details of several bodies buried at an old
subway station. He would be charged with multiple murders, so Coalman wouldn’t
be going anywhere soon!
“All in all, not a
bad result but we still need to find the evil doctor before she sets up another
coven somewhere else.” Jericho said as he moved his Queen. Father Adam’s
nodded; “She has disappeared from the Mercy Hospital and her plush apartment in
Manhattan with no word to anyone.” He moved his castle and muttered; “Check
mate.” Jericho just slumped in his chair and sighed “Best of five?” he had lost
two games already.
Owen look puzzled;
“Where the hell did you get the incriminating notebook?” he asked Jericho who
just smiled; “Oh I know a really good forger; he can copy your handwriting so
well that even you can’t tell the difference. He’s always willing to help out.”
Wilson started to laugh and Alex shook her head; “Jericho Tibbs; you are just
too much sometimes!” Wilson jumped from his seat and went to the drinks tray;
“Brandies all round?” he asked and everyone nodded. Jericho picked up his
mirror and sat reading.
“Apparently Ms Grimes
woke up in the Mercy Hospital and couldn’t believe she had been there five
days. She has no recollection of her treatment and her time spent there. But
her hives have gone so she’s very happy with the treatment; especially since it
was basically free.” Owen had turned a couple of pages and his eye
had caught a small article about the Mercy Hospital. Just below it announced
the departure of Doctor Pascoe for pastures anew. Jericho lowered his mirror;
“Human Records have located our
rotten doctor’s soul in a small town near Richmond Virginia. Let’s go people.”
Wilson groaned; he hated the thought of driving that old van all the way to
Richmond.
That’s when there was
a knock at the hotel door and Owen answered it. It was Phil DeVine and he
wasn’t happy. He blamed the ‘Ghostbusters’ for the total close down of works at
the subway station; the place was crawling with police and forensic staff. Not
to mention reporters and TV channels. Apparently the Mayor wasn’t happy either;
the bill from the construction company was mounting daily and nothing was being
done. He called Jericho a useless twat to his face and left.
Jericho just shrugged
his shoulders and told everyone to get their gear together. They booked out the
hotel and piled into the old van, but Jericho had one last task to complete. He
called Operations and asked that a senior Collector – preferably their good
friend Herbie – be sent to the subway station and attempt to collect the last
remaining missing souls there. His request was approved. “Maybe this time
they’ll go with the bloody collector.” He said and Wilson started the van and
turned into the slow moving traffic. “It will be better when we hit the
freeway.” He explained as they sat in traffic. They didn’t make the freeway for
some hours and had to find a motel on route.
The van sat in the
driveway of the little motel and Owen slapped a hand over his face; “Are we
really going to stay at the ‘Bates Motel and Diner’?” Wilson slapped the wheel
a couple of times; “Well, according to the map, the next motel is so far away
that we wouldn’t reach it before midnight and I’m knackered driving this bloody
heap of shit!” That settled the matter and they booked in. The motel reception
made them stand in utter silence; staring until the proprietor arrived. He did
look actually like Norman Bates!
He really made them
welcome and even offered them cold beers – for free – from his fridge. Alex
still couldn’t get over the foyer décor; there was wheelchair by the big window
and the curtains were shower curtains. A display cabinet contained various
large lethal knives and there posters of the famous movie everywhere. Jericho
signed the team in with a pen shaped like a knife and in red ink. Wilson
whispered to a still stunned Alex; “I wonder if our over friendly proprietor
knows what ‘bad taste’ actually means.” Alex nodded and whispered back; “I
wonder if he actually seen the bloody film!” He
showed them their rooms and admitted to Father Adam’s that he didn’t get many
priests staying here. Then with a big smile, added that he actually didn’t get
too many people staying here. Father Adam’s was – of course – very friendly and
just muttered; “No! I’m surprised by that.” The proprietor completely missed
the sarcasm in his voice.
Jericho and Father
Adam’s shared a twin room, as did Owen and Wilson. Alex was given a single.
Everyone settled in for the night and Wilson brought lots of beer from the now
very happy proprietor and they drunk them in Jericho’s room and then separated
for bed. All was quiet for about an hour and then Alex was banging on Wilson & Owen's door. Wilson opened it yawning in his striped pyjamas and Alex pushed in and
climbed in his still warm bed. "I took one look at the shower curtains in the bloody bathroom and I knew I wouldn't sleep a wink." she said and smiled. Wilson just sighed as Owen chuckled.
Nothing
was said; but Alex did hear the pair laughing softly for some time before falling
asleep. The breakfast was excellent; the proprietor’s wife filled their plates
and coffee cups, even Alex enjoyed her breakfast despite the sniggers from Owen
and Wilson. That’s when a sad looking proprietor shuffled over and apologized
profusely about their van being stolen during the night. Jericho waved his
apology away and told him not to bother calling the local sheriff. He walked
away a little stunned. Then the table burst into laughter and Wilson raised his
coffee cup and said: “I love this town!”
Old Joe arrived with
the replacement van just twenty minutes later. He wasn’t happy. But did smile
as he handed the keys to Wilson and said quietly; “Try not to burn or lose this
one Wilson. But no one will be unhappy if you do.” He walked away chuckling to
himself. The team stood in the car park and Wilson just lowered his head and
cussed. Owen sighed; “It could be worse big man; at least it has four wheels
and one or two of them must work.” Jericho just said quietly; “Come on people,
it’s better than walking.”
The old, dull grey
bus was probably new when Roosevelt was first elected. But mechanically it was
sound. Owen pointed out the name which had been badly over painted; ‘New York
State Corrections
Department’ and they found restraining chains on the passenger seats
and all the windows were covered with wire. The driver had his own compartment
and Wilson barely fitted inside. The language
from the big man would have made a drunken sailor blush, as he drove down the
motel driveway. The Motel proprietor just wiped his face and stared in
disbelief; “City folk sure are strange.” He muttered to his skinny wife who
just stood and gripped her apron; staring at the departing bus.
Jericho consulted his
mirror and told Wilson to take the next left; a county two lane which ran
directly into their destination. They drove past endless corn fields on both
sides of the road. There was no other traffic until Owen spotted the little
sports car, apparently broken down – the bonnet was up – by the side of the
road. The lone woman waved frantically at the bus. It came to a halt next to
her and Wilson pulled the lever which made the doors spring open.
“Oh thank heavens! I
had given up hope of seeing another vehicle on this damn road and a State
corrections bus will do just fine.” She stood grinning until she stared at the
‘crew’. Jericho grinned; “Well do step aboard Doctor Pascoe, we were just about
to pay you a visit!” she turned to run, but Jericho got her with his mirror and
Owen, with Alex’s help pulled her aboard. Father Adam’s looked to the sky and
whispered; “Truly Lord you work in wonderful and mysterious ways!” None of Team 74 could argue with that.
The two sheriff
deputies sauntered up to the little car and stared in. One ran a hand over his
face and tipped back his hat; “Floyd, don’t she match the description of that
doctor wanted as an accessory to several murders up in the big city?” Clyde
nodded; “Suppose to be a witch so the bulletin says. Suppose that’s why she’s
naked and parked in the middle of a football pitch. The players said it was
real strange; one moment big Eddie was about to kick a field goal and the next
this car appears.” He sighed and told the crowd gathered around to move back a
little.
Doctor Pascoe came
around and stared at the police officers and crowds of people all staring at
her. Her mouth opened to scream, but nothing came out. Floyd opened the door
and tipped his hat; “I guess your witching days are over doc.” and slapped the
handcuffs on. Doctor Pascoe really did scream now and it could probably be
heard in New York City.
EPILOGUE:
"A strange case for the team and especially Wilson; who was back
in the city he worked as a detective before his tragic and untimely death. The
Mission was considered a success by Angel Margret and the Team
themselves."
W.A.S.
CHARACTERS:
Maurice ‘Mo’
Breckenridge [Works Supervisor] retired in 1984 and moved to Florida. He
enjoyed his retirement until 1990 when he was diagnosed with lung cancer. He
survived for another year before succumbing to the infection. His soul was
collected and processed.
Derek ‘little man’
Carling [Assistant Works Supervisor] had worked for the department for twenty
two years but was made redundant under city budget cuts. He opened a small dog
grooming parlor in Queens; it was quite successful. But Derek died in 1989
after a drunken truck driver took out his car on the freeway one evening in
heavy rain. His soul was collected and processed.
Sean Finlay [New York
Patrolman] walked the same beat for almost ten years and was liked and
respected. He retired in 1981. It didn’t last long; he was diagnosed with bone
cancer and died on Christmas Eve 1982. His soul was collected and processed.
Frank Taylor
[Building Services Contactor - Manager] retired in 1984 and moved to Montana
where he ran a bar. He was married three times and had four children. He died
in a nursing home in 2001 and his soul was collected and processed.
Mavis Greta
Landsdowne [The secretary] had a disabled son and her husband was a type 1
diabetic; her wages barely covered his insulin and her son’s care. One
afternoon she left their apartment and threw herself from the Brooklyn Bridge.
Her soul was collected and processed. Angel Margret should have sent her to
quarantine but allowed her to re-join the Human Life cycle at once.
Phillip ‘Phil’ DeVine
[New York City Building Manager] never made his retirement. He
suffered a massive heart attack in 1979 and died instantly. He argued with his
collector all the way to the light. He said he was too busy to die! His soul
was collected and processed.
Leroy ‘Fingers’
Washington [Street gang member and informant] was shot dead in 1975 during an
argument over some unpaid drugs that he had supplied. His soul was collected
and processed. It was quarantined for 75 human years for the rape and murder of
a young girl in 1969. He had never been arrested or convicted for that, but he
couldn’t avoid divine justice.
Susan Grimes aka
“Honey Bunny’ [Actress & part time prostitute] unfortunately met the wrong
‘client’ one evening and her body was found dumped in a skip near city hall.
She was 22 years old. Her soul was collected and processed.
Stanley ‘The Bear’
Robinson [Street gang member] was convicted of armed robbery in 1976 and
sentenced to 90 years in prison. He was actually innocent of the crime. He died
in prison in 1997 and his soul was collected and processed.
Wallace Edward
Coalman [The Warlock] had sold his soul for special powers and was a total
devotee of the Dark Prince. He served another seven years in prison before
dying there of pneumonia in 1979. He practically ruled the inmates who were
terrified of the strange little man. No soul was collected and it’s reported
that he is now a Tier 3 demon and will probably climb the demonic ranks
quickly. There are rumours that the ‘New York Witch Murders’ will be made into
a feature film.
Doctor Elizabeth Ann
Pascoe [Chief Witch] was convicted of three murders and sentenced to death. But
she was murdered in prison in 1986 during a fight with another inmate on ‘death
Row’. No soul was collected and it’s suspected that she had sold her soul to
the Dark Side’. Its current whereabouts are unknown.
Harry ‘Black Eyes’
Polanski [A lost Soul], who had been murdered by the witches as a human
sacrifice, finally had his soul collected and processed.
Earnest Graham Murray
[New York Patrolman] retired in 1974 but continued to live in the city until
his death in 1981. One warm Saturday night Ernie simply put his old service
revolver in his mouth and shot
himself. His soul was collected and processed. It was
quarantined for fifty human years before being re-released back in the Human
Life Cycle.
Celeste Washington
[Wilson’s sister-in-law] lived her entire life in New York City and married
twice. She had three children and her youngest son was called ‘Wilson’. She
died –an old lady – in 2021 during the pan epidemic that swept the world that
year. Her soul was collected and processed.
Katherine Ellen Lewis
[subway missing soul] was finally persuaded by Herbie the Collector to enter
the light. She had died – by suicide – in 1925 after throwing herself under a
train at the 153rd station. Her boyfriend had broken off their
engagement. Angel Margret should have given her 50 human years in quarantine
but instead made her a collector! Angel’s rarely get it wrong and ‘Kath the
Collector’ has proved popular and respected at her new job. But Jericho has
always said that Angel Margret is one of the best Duty Death Angels he has ever
worked under.
Father Paradise
Adam’s has assisted the temporal detectives on many occasions. He was a good,
decent honest priest who served God totally. His story can be found in the
episode; ‘Sister Sarah dreams of
demons’ Series 2 – Episode 7
and the episode: ‘Father Paradise
Adam’s and the prayer of liberty’ currently unpublished.
Alistair Edward Tibbs
[Special Agent – Temporal Detectives Department] all information about this
character is currently kept under seal and cannot be accessed. Sorry about
that!
