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| Illustration for "THE DEVIL AND REYNOLD MASTERS." Created by the author. Copyright © 2011-2025 Stephen J. Williams. |
"Reynold Masters is a real laugh; this popular student at Rutland University is known for his pranks and humour. His Halloween parties have almost become a legend amongst staff and students and this year [1950] he intends to surpass all his previous party efforts. Reynold has invited the ‘Old Nick’ himself to party at Hammer House in Yorkshire, which is known for its ghosts and strange happenings. But he really didn't think that the guest of honour would actually turn up..."
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| Episode may contain the following warnings: |
“All incidents and dialogue, and all characters with the exception of some well-known historical figures, are products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Where real-life historical figures appear, the situations, incidents, and dialogues concerning those persons are entirely fictional and are not intended to depict actual events or to change the entirely fictional nature of the work. In all other respects, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
[1]
The original Title for this episode was: ‘THE FORBIDDEN PARTY.’
[2]
A ‘Jericho Tibbs’ original story.
[3] "THE DEVIL AND REYNOLD MASTERS.” The original illustration for this episode was created by the author, as was this episode, which was also conceived and written by him. Copyright © 2011-2025 Stephen Williams. No reproduction of any part without written permission.
[4] A little extra warning: this episode contains references to Human sacrifice, devil worship, grave robbing and adultery: well, it is a Halloween party after all....
[5] There is an 'Alexandra' series adult extended version currently available entitled:
"ALEXANDRA ATTENDS THE HAMMER HOUSE HALLOWEEN PARTY."
[6] For background information on this particular episode, regarding the origins and traditions of 'All Hallo's Eve', please view the 'WIKIPEDIA' entry HERE.
Episode details:
Concept
date: 27th March 2017
First
published: 21st June 2022
Status: COMPLETED & PUBLISHED.
Location: BOOK SERIES 5 - EPISODE 8.
Revisions: 3 [Last revised March 2022]
Version:
Final.
Published Episode No. 53
Previous episode: "The dinosaur hunters."
Next episode: "Belfast '72."
Age
recommendation: 15+
Average
reading time: Approximately 60 Minutes.
Angel-in-charge: Margret
Team Assigned: Team 74
Mission: 6 - 917203 – 3 – 1950
Human time:
Gregorian Calendar: MCMLMuslim Calendar: 1369 - 1370 [AH]
Hebrew Calendar: 5710 - 5711
Christian Calendar: 1950AD
"THE DEVIL AND REYNOLD MASTERS."
1. RUTLAND UNIVERSITY STUDENT ACCOMODATION – Thursday 26th October 1950.
“I haven’t heard back from him yet, but he’ll succeed, he always does. His step dad owns the bloody place, so that must count for something.” Barry Grimes smiled broadly at his two companions who were sprawled on the sofa opposite. Dave Chambers and Melvin ‘Mel’ Henley both nodded their agreement: if anyone could convince old man Cantrell, it would be Reynold. Mel lit up his small pipe and tried to look serious, he had attempted to grow a beard this semester which had basically failed and now he just looked like a vagrant who had fallen on good times. Well, that’s what Kate had said. Kate was the most popular girl student with the boys because of her down to earth attitude and sense of humour. Her best friend Lizzie was considered the ‘Queen’ of the college because of her looks, wealth, and figure, but she really didn’t understand men’s humour [or women’s if she was honest] and frankly was dull as dishwater. Rumour was her wealthy father had purchased what little humour she possessed from a down and out clown! The two girls and four young men [Kate, Lizzie, Mel, Dave, Barry & Reynold] were collectively known as ‘The Comedy Foot Lighters’ by other students – some jealous of their popularity and good times they appeared to have – and in particular young Reynold Masters, the Archaeology student who was blessed with a sense of humour [or cursed as some of his lecturers would say]. His two previous Halloween parties were already a legend on campus.
Last year, he held the party in a disused cemetery just outside Doncaster which was raided by local police who – to their amazement – found several tents, two bars, a four-piece band and a local caters, all on site and apparently having a damn goodtime. Reynold pleaded guilty to all charges the following morning and was fined seven pounds, nine shillings and sixpence by the magistrate who clearly remembered his own student days. He paid the fines from his father’s generous allowance. His dad was Sir Herbert Master’s the famous archaeologist who was currently excavating in Egypt. But it was Reynold’s aunt Isabella that first interested the young man in the supernatural and paranormal. She was known – in certain circles – as one of the finest mediums operating in England. Reynold had quickly become obsessed with death, ghost, spirits, and the supposed afterlife; all with a large dose of humour. So, his Halloween parties were anticipated by the students lucky to get invited, all year. For them it was the highlight of the University’s social calendar.
Barry stared at the small clock above the fireplace and reached for his jacket lying on the floor at his feet. “Come on, it’s almost seven o’clock and we promised to meet the ladies at the Pontefract Castle [a local pub and student dive]. Remember that old bastard Mr. Wilson is on the gates tonight and he gives no leeway even if you’re only a couple of minutes late!” [Mr. Wilson was one of the gatekeepers at the university. All students had to be back on campus by ten o’clock or they were fined by the Dean. The gatekeepers enforced this rule and Mr. Wilson was noted for thoroughly enjoying the rules enforcement.]
The three young men gathered up their jackets and coats, heading for the door. Barry stopped and pushed the ornate fire guard back in front of the still burning fire and snapped off the lights. The three made the rear carpark and they pushed into Mel’s Austin 12 which was considered quite new by the other students: it had been made in 1946 and given to Mel by his father as a present for getting into university. Mel was hoping to graduate and go into teaching; he loved history and that’s what he wanted to teach. The trio headed for the pub in a good mood and were pleased to see Lizzie’s little Standard Eight [another fathers gift] parked in the pub carpark with the girls inside. They wouldn’t go into a pub unaccompanied after what happened at the Railway Arms. The publican refused to serve them and told them to leave, saying he didn’t allow ‘unaccompanied females’ in his establishment. They had left a little upset; they felt like a couple of toms being thrown out for trying to pick up men in there. [‘Tom’ was a colloquialism for a prostitute in these times].
They joined the boys and the happy band pushed into the pub which was quite busy for a Thursday. Mel and Dave went straight to the bar as Barry and the girls found a table for four and borrowed an empty chair from a courting couple at the next table. Barry brought the girls up to date with Reynolds plan to have the party at Hammer House Hotel. Lizzie said she had no idea about the house’s reputation and Barry explained.
“It’s a big old rambling house dating back to the 1690’s and it has quite a sinister reputation. There have been at least two murders there over the years. There’s a strong rumour or rather legend that it was used by witches in the 1700’s and Old Nick himself put in an appearance. The family that originally owned the place was well known locally for being mean and cruel. One of their maids’ hung herself in the attics after being abused by the master. He was a dirty, evil old bugger called Sebastian Mooney who had apparently sold his soul to the devil. It is said that no-one from the local villages attended his funeral and on the day of his funeral, he was interned in the family crypt, a great storm broke out with heavy rain and thunder. The undertakers all but slung him in and ran off!” Barry was interrupted by Mel and Dave appearing with the drinks and they sat down smiling; “Don’t forget the best part.” Dave said sipping his beer.
“Oh yes, old Sebastian’s ghost is said to haunt the house looking for young women and girls to ravish. Several women staying overnight at the place are said to have told, of ice-cold hands on them and a smell of pipe tobacco in their rooms at night.” Dave sighed: “It was probably Mel asking the way to the lavatory!”
Lizzie cradled her gin and tonic and looked concerned; “The place isn’t really haunted, is it?” Kate just chuckled. “There are no such things as ghosts or ghoulies, it’s just legends and fairy tales to enliven boring evenings around a winter fire. You know, like reading a book by Edgar Allen Poe, H. G. Well’s or Jules Verne. Stories to entertain, that’s all. No one with a rational thought process would consider such tales as being true. The devil doesn’t exist, nor do vampires, werewolves, or naughty ghosts.”
Mel sucked on his pipe and nodded his head; “Spoken like a true communist, oh, sorry socialist. Do you know that the greatest trick the devil pulled was to get humanity to believe he didn’t exist?” Dave sat back and sipped his beer and directed his question to Kate; “So, when old Sebastian sticks his head up your night shirt, you’ll just grit your teeth and tell him, he doesn’t exist?” Everyone chuckled and Kate did too. Lizzie gripped Kate’s arm; “I’m sleeping with you. I don’t believe them too, but I won’t sleep on my own in that place, thank you.” The boys – of course – all immediately shouted that she could share with them and they wouldn’t mind one bit. Lizzie didn’t smile and said quietly; “In your sodding dreams!”
Their lively and good-humoured conversation was interrupted by the barmaid who shouted; “Is there a Baz Grimes in tonight? There’s a phone call for Baz Grimes!” Barry rose from his chair and waved an arm; “I bet that’s Reynold; he would know we’d be in here tonight.” and made his way to the payphone on the wall by the men’s toilets.
The little group sat chatting about Reynold’s previous Halloween escapades until Barry returned looking very pleased. “He’s done it. The party’s on for Saturday night at Hammer House. Be prepared to be drunk and scared!” Everyone laughed but Kate actually felt a little shudder and sipped her whisky slowly. Something inside her was telling her not to attend this party. That strange and disturbing feeling deep within her was sending out a warning. She finished her drink and managed a smile, her thoughts disturbed by Lizzie who wanted to know about her costume. “I’m going as a white lady; do you think I should wear white stockings or socks?”
That was answered by the boys who said as one; “Bloody stockings of course!” and everyone laughed again. Barry and Mel were now discussing the film they had seen at the ‘Roxy Empire’ cinema yesterday afternoon: ‘Destination Moon’ and were impressed by the special effects, though Mel thought the shape of the rocket ship was all wrong. He advocated a three-stage rocket with a small landing craft that could and should be able to lift off far more easily than a huge complete rocket. That’s when Lizzie yelped; “Christ! Come on, we’ve only half an hour before gates are locked!”
Everyone finished their drinks and made for the door, grabbing coats, laughing and chatting together. They made it by just four minutes, much to the unhappy disappointment of the dour Mr. Wilson who slammed the gates shut behind them and returned to the Porter’s lodge unsmiling.
2. HAMMER HOUSE,
NORTH YORKSHIRE and the Morning of Friday 27th October 1950.
The Austin 12 swept into the drive of Hammer House Hotel and Baz had to whistle, “Bugger, it does look like the kind of place Dracula and Frankenstein would take a restful weekend away from their castles.” Mel just chuckled as he stopped just left of the entrance and Lizzie pointed out several cars already in the car park, including Reynold’s little Ford Anglia, two door saloon.
“He’s here!” she exclaimed, and Kate just
smiled; Lizzie had quite a thing for Reynold, but she would never get him past
her father who wanted nothing less than a doctor, lawyer or Architect for her:
a real professional man with a future, not some grubby, hard-up archaeologist
who made pennies, digging in the dirt.
Baz eased from the passenger side and opened the rear door for the girls. He stared down the drive and wondered where Dave was, he was just behind them at the crossroads. Then he heard the motorbike before it came in sight and smiled. The HRD 1000 Vincent came roaring up the drive, causing gravel and stones to fly. Kate and Lizzie waved enthusiastically as Dave pulled up and switched of the engine, He lifted his goggles and spat; “Must have swallowed a dozen bleeding insects on these country roads!” He jumped from the bike and grabbed his bag, pulling the goggles off and un-wrapping his scarf. “Come on, let’s book in and find out who else has made it.” Baz nodded, “It’s a bloody hotel so the bar should be open for residents.” Mel agreed with that and pulled his luggage [and the girls] from the boot of his big car. The gang headed into the hotel, full of real happy anticipation, smiling and talking. They stopped before the ornate reception desk and stared about. The place looked deserted. Mel lifted the little brass bell on the counter and shook it. “You rang sir?” the deep voice came from behind them, and they all turned. The Receptionist [sorry, assistant manager] must have been over six feet with a wrestlers build and looked like an Edwardian Undertaker in his hotel uniform; a dark black three-piece suit. But he smiled and walked behind the counter and Kate prodded Lizzie and whispered; “He can book me in any day.” Which made Lizzie giggle a little and she whispered back her agreement. Mr. George Sykes was a former Marine officer who had served in the last war and was considered very handsome by most women who came across him. He spoke to Baz but smiled at the girls. “Will you please sign in and I will allocate your rooms. I understand that the ladies are sharing according to Mr. Masters.”
Baz nodded and picked up the pen, “I understand I’m sharing with Reynold…Mr. Masters and Mr. Henley is bunking in with Mr. Chambers.” The big man turned and pulled three sets of keys from the little wooden ‘pigeonholes’ behind him. “Quite so sir, you are all on the third floor, the ladies in Room 9 which is a double. You and Mr. Reynolds are in Room 10 and Misters Chambers and Henley in Room 11, which are both twin bedded.” He handed the keys over as they took turns to sign in. Baz rubbed his hands together; “Everything all right for the party tomorrow night?” Mr. Sykes nodded and checked the register, “Five others from your university have booked in sir and they are accommodated on the second floor. The ball room is being appropriately decorated for the Halloween party. We have another two couples in residence, who I believe your Mr. Master’s has invited to the party. A most generous gesture.”
Dave chuckled, “That sounds like Reynold, the more the merrier!” Gripping their keys and luggage they headed upstairs to their rooms. There were six rooms off the third-floor hallway, numbered 9 to 14. For some reason, they all stared at the door marked ‘13’ in gold numerals. Dave said quietly, “I wonder who was happy to get number 13 on Halloween?” Kate grunted; “Well, I bet Reynold was not happy. He would love that, getting room 13 on Halloween.” The little group split up and headed for their rooms, agreeing to meet in the hotel bar in half an hour.
Lizzie and Kate dropped their suitcases just inside the door and stared around the room which was dominated by a huge four-poster bed with curtains. The large fireplace had a fire burning and the room still felt cold. Kate actually shuddered when she saw the portrait above the mantlepiece. It was some grim looking middle-aged man, dressed in clothes from the 1700’s. He had bright green eyes which seemed to stare right back at her. She felt herself compelled to walk over and read the small brass plaque on the picture frame. “Sir Sebastian Mooney circa 1790.” She read out softly as she heard Lizzie giggling and bouncing on the bed with some enthusiasm. “It’s bloody lovely!” she declared, pulling off her coat and hat.
Kate managed to pull herself away from the portrait – and those eyes – and remove her own hat and coat. “Those carvings on the headboard are the devil and his minions. Now that’s not lovely.” Lizzie just nodded; she hadn’t noticed. “Don’t care as long as the bed is bleeding comfortable.” She retorted and jumped up. “Come on, let’s unpack and get downstairs to the bar. I could murder a gin and tonic!” Kate managed a smile; wishing Lizzie hadn’t mentioned ‘murder’ in this bloody room. The girls finished unpacking and headed for the door, Lizzie pulling it open still talking about her costume for the party, when Kate stopped and looked about the room, then the corridor. They walked down the stairs together and Kate knew she needed to speak with Reynold. There had been – briefly – a smell of pipe tobacco in that damn room! Reynold will dance around the room at being told this.
The ‘couple’ in Room 13 passed a hipflask between themselves and Jericho relaxed in the big chair by the fireplace, as Alex sprawled on the bed, hands behind head. “So, Operations was really specific for once. A breech of the timeline from 1791 to this very house?” she asked and sat up, grabbing her mirror from the bedside cabinet. Jericho, already reading his mirror nodded; “One human crossed over from this very house in 1791 to here, so I’m thinking a fixed time portal. Maybe a ‘Jerusalem Mirror’ or such. Anyway, we’ll find the bugger and send him or her back and close the portal. Shouldn’t take too long.”
Alex sighed; “You shouldn’t have said that. Normally the bloody wheel falls off after you say the mission should be easy.” Jericho just chuckled; “It was nice of that Master’s fellow to invite us to the party. I have already decided on my costume, what are you wearing?” She eased off the bed and straightened her dress; “I was thinking of a demotic Nun, but then, this is the 1950’s and that won’t go down too well, I think. So, I’m thinking of a witch with the big, pointed hat and broom.” Jericho looked up from his mirror; “As long as the skirt isn’t up your arse that sounds fine.” Alex didn’t smile; “I’m sure none of the other men would complain.” He had to nod his agreement at that. There was a sharp knock and Owen stuck his head around the door; “The hotel restaurant is open and I’m starving.”
Alex smiled; “You are always bleeding starving, but your right, I’m quite peckish too.” Jericho and Alex joined him in the corridor, and they waited outside Room 12 for Divij who was still working on his mirror. Jericho shouted and Divij replied he would be about ten minutes, so the trio left for the restaurant. They encountered Lizzie and Kate at the top of the stairs and there were introductions all round. The girls really admired Alex’s outfit, but then, Supplies never scrimped over Alex’s ‘costumes’ for any of her missions. As Owen stated when he was playing his ‘alter-ego’ Jackie: “I think she’s the departments Poster Girl. They dump on me what she doesn’t want.” But he did smile about it.
Alex and Jericho were playing husband and wife – they usually did if the mission called for it – with Jericho some kind of wealthy factory owner and Alex his doctor wife. Kate liked young Owen immediately whilst Lizzie really liked Mr. Tibbs despite him being Apparently married! Kate shook her head at that, Lizzie had already been involved in a small scandal with a married Navy Officer, but her father would have none of that. It was rumoured that he had paid the young man off and Lizzie was sent to university with a flea in her ear about her future behaviour. Kate was pretty sure that her father’s lecture hadn't worked! Lizzie seemed only to be drawn to married men, which Kate knew they didn’t mind.
Her and Lizzie joined the boys at the bar, and then sat together in the dining room. Just opposite was the ‘Tibbs’ party – when Divij appeared – and everyone enjoyed the meal. Several other people appeared in the dining room; most were students from the university, and they were quite ‘loud’. Owen thoroughly enjoyed being surrounded by young people who were intent on a good time and Alex agreed with him. Jericho didn’t comment but Divij did. “Typical spoiled brats of the wealthy, absolutely no consideration for anyone else trying to have a quiet meal.” Was his contribution to the conversation. That’s when Jericho noticed another couple who were shown their table by a young waitress. A Middle-aged man with quite a young wife – if indeed she was his wife – who wore the latest fashion – like Alex was – and the pair sat talking quietly together throughout the meal. Alex whispered to Jericho; “Either they have just married or she’s, his mistress. They are engrossed with each other.” Jericho finished his braised lamb and vegetables and nodded his agreement. He wondered if they would attend the Halloween party. His post meal enjoyment was interrupted by Kate and Baz who appeared at the table with Kate clutching a notebook. “Sorry to disturb you, but we’re asking party guests what they will wear: so there are no embarrassing similar costumes. May I ask you people?”
Alex explained she was going as a witch, like you see on the new TV programs. Kate nodded and smiled at that. “We do have another witch, but she’s like a seventeenth century one. What about you sir?” She asked Divij who folded his arms, “I’m going as a Sikh warrior.” Was all he said, and Kate managed a smile and turned to Owen who smiled broadly at her; “A mad, blood-soaked, but happy psychopathic monk!” and Kate laughed outright at that. Finally, she asked Jericho who tapped his chin; “I will be an Edwardian Undertaker, but without the coffin obviously, be silly and quite cumbersome to drag a casket around with me: curtail the dancing somewhat.” Owen and Alex exchanged a smile; that meant he would wear his ordinary clothes!
After
lunch, the team split into two pairs with Jericho and Divij seemingly wandering
around the hotel and grounds, apparently taking in the views: but were actually
using their mirrors to check for time portals. Alex and Owen were checking the
attics where the staff - who lived in – had their rooms; Owen kept watch at the
foot of the staff staircase while Alex knocked on each door, then stuck her
head in and checked with her mirror. After half an hour they went back to the
third floor. Their own rooms had already been checked earlier. “Just four on
this floor and then we’ll check the Second.” Alex muttered. Jericho and Divij
were prowling around the gardens and outbuildings. They also had found nothing,
so far. But they did find the magnificent Mooney family crypt standing behind a
high brick wall and shaded by trees. It
didn’t look inviting even in daylight. A stone angel stood at each corner with
pieces missing, including one whose head had disappeared. Someone had thrown
red paint over the steel banded double doors which looked like someone had also
taken an axe to them.
“Must have been a popular family.” Was all Divij said. Jericho pulled out his mirror and shook his head; “No time portal and no Earth bound spirits. Seventeen interments recorded since 1741 with three spare spaces. Last resident was placed there in 1898. A certain Sir John Hubert Mooney who was the last of the family line. The whole estate was sold in 1900 to a local Textile Baron who apparently built the wall around the crypt. Then the house – on his death – was purchased in 1938 by a hotel chain.”
Divij turned back to the hotel; “Anything interesting about that place?” Jericho shrugged his shoulders, “Just stories and gossip about three ghosts who are supposed to haunt the place: Sir Sebastian Mooney who was apparently a nasty, evil piece of work. There was a young maid who hung herself and a Sir William Edward Mooney who took after his great uncle Sebastian and was also a nasty piece of work. He was, so legend has it, found shot to death in the library, on Christmas Eve 1856. No one was ever charged with his murder, but he was killed by the young groom – Alistair Gordon – who received thirty human years in quarantine when he passed in 1888. According to the collector, he murdered Sir William because he raped his girlfriend – a housemaid – and Alistair took revenge: as you said Divij, not a popular family.”
They walked to the old stables – now garages for motorcars – and Jericho lowered his mirror; “What could interest us was the existence of a Witches Coven here in the 1700’s. Normally, they pass down….” He stopped walking and talking. Then said quietly; “Sir Sebastian Mooney should have been collected in 1792 and there’s a casket in the crypt for him. But he never made his dispatch date, he’s a missing soul!” Divij allowed himself a little smile, “Do you think he went time traveling and now has jumped back?” Jericho nodded, “A bit of a co-incidence otherwise.” and turned back to the crypt; “But there are seventeen sets of human remains in there, according to our mirrors, so, who the hell is in Sir Sebastian’s casket, if he’s not at home?”
3. HAMMER HOUSE, NORTH YORKSHIRE, the Afternoon of Friday 27th October 1950.
The team met up in Jericho’s room late that afternoon and agreed they had found nothing. No time portals and no earth-bound spirits which wasn’t helpful. “I conclude that our time traveling friend has the portal on his or her person, which makes our job a little more difficult. So, it now means we have to check out everyone who could be the time traveller. I think most of the Students can be discounted because they’re known to each other in this time and place. My gut feeling is that middle-aged man and his young wife. If our suspect is Sir Sebastian Mooney, then he could be our man. Alex and I will accidently encounter them tonight at dinner and check him out.” Jericho sprawled in his chair by the fireplace as Owen topped the grate up with coal from the full bucket. He prodded the fire with a snake-head poker and didn’t smile; “I’m disappointed that’s there no earth-bound spirits to chase. After all, what’s a Halloween party if there are no real ghosts!”
Divij stood by the window, staring out onto the rear gardens, then turned; “We need to see who’s interned in Sir Sebastian’s casket, I think that may help.” For once, Alex agreed [much to the amusement of Owen who knew she didn’t like to agree with their sergeant on anything] “How do we get those bloody big doors open without anyone seeing or hearing us? That’s not going to be easy.” She asked. Jericho sat up and smiled; “We go through the roof, it has lead tiles that can be easy lifted, so all we need is a ladder and a length of strong rope to lower the smallest member of the team into the crypt. It’s all about weight.” He smiled broadly at Alex who just sighed, very loudly. “As long as you don’t bleeding drop me on my head. Where’s Wilson when you need him, he would be perfect to lower me down.” Jericho didn’t reply to that but checked his mirror. “We’ll hit the joint tonight at about midnight. Even the loud students should be tucked up in bed, with the big party tomorrow night.” Owen finished playing with the fire and smiled; “Sounds good to me. Grave robbing on the eve of an All Hallows party: those loony students would love that.”
Divij, still by the window grunted; “Just our luck, it’s raining.” Jericho rubbed his chin and turned to Owen, now sprawling across the small sofa by the door. “Check local records for any unusual or suspicious deaths in this area for 1791. If Sir Sebastian placed a stiff in his casket to allow him to escape in time, then he would probably have obtained the body locally. Maybe a vagrant or some poor sod from the local workhouse.” Owen nodded and started to check his mirror. After a few minutes, he shook his head and didn’t smile: “Two possibilities, a certain Arthur George Helms who was collected in 1791 from the local village. No family and the parish were supposed to bury him, but his body was taken from the workhouse before burial. Its disappearance was blamed on body snatchers. A decent dead body was worth serious money in those days and there was a medical school not ten miles away at the time. The perfect customers for such a corpse who had no relatives to object or call the law.” Jericho smiled; “Now that sounds like a winner, what’s the other one?”
Owen shrugged his shoulders; “Harold Parks, a Gardener at this very house, found dead in the woods. Apparently, according to local reports, he had been shot dead because he probably disturbed poachers. You could be hung for poaching in those days. The report says….” He stopped talking and looked up; “No bloody soul was collected. A missing soul. Team 31 investigated and concluded that he had sold his soul to the Dark Side because he was a member of the ‘Black Cockerill’ Witches Coven that was active at the time in this area. The Team reports that the Coven had a Black Priest – apparently ordained by the devil himself – who they couldn’t identify but the chief bloody suspect was Sir Sebastian Mooney!”
“Does it say where this Harold Parks was buried?” Divij asked, now very interested in the case of the murdered gardener. Owen checked his mirror; “St. James the Less, which is in the village. Surely, that’s worth a check, isn’t it? We already have one missing soul [Sir Sebastian] from this place and now another pops up. This man Parks could also be our time traveller.” Jericho nodded his agreement with that deduction. “Right, we have some daylight left, let’s get over to the church’s burial ground and see if Harold Parks is in residence. If he’s body is there, then we know he sold his soul to the other side. If it’s not, then he could be our time traveller.”
Alex turned the Austin A40 Devon down the country lane and the church’s spire came into sight. She parked by the gateway of the low stone wall that surrounded the Church’s burial ground. Owen and Divij slipped from the back with Divij putting up his umbrella. Jericho jumped from the passenger seat and put his hat on, slowly pulling his coat around. “Come on, the early burials should be close to the church itself, with later burials spreading down towards the stone wall. Divij, you come with me and Alex you team up with Owen. Shout if you find our man. This shouldn’t take long.” Alex didn’t even bother locking the car and joined Owen by the gate which needed some force to open.
“Needs bloody lubricating.” He muttered and finally it creaked open and the team headed up the gravel path to the church. They split into two teams and started to search through the gravestones. The rain was still quite light, but Owen pointed out the very dark forbidding clouds on the horizon. “You know, I think there’s a storm coming.” Alex nodded her agreement, clutching her mirror and staring at each weathered gravestone they came across. She smiled; “It’s like time travel for living humans, these tombstones running towards the fence are getting later and later. Jericho was right as usual!”
Owen brushed rain from his face and gestured her over. She joined him and they both peered at the small tombstone, which was almost unreadable by years of weather and overgrown, pushed up near the stone wall and beneath a big dark tree. Owen held his mirror up and said quietly; “Harold Parks, Born 3rd June 1745, Died 27th October 1791. Gone to God and may he have mercy on his soul.”
Alex
was calling Jericho when Owen tapped her arm; “Now that’s bloody interesting,
the human remains buried here have been identified by Human Records as Daisy
Coalman! She died in 1791 of ‘fever’ at the age of twenty-nine and her soul was
collected and processed. How could they bury a woman under a man’s name and not
bleeding notice it?” Alex had to smile:
Owen always said it as it was!
Alex shrugged her shoulders; she didn’t know, but it pointed to Harold Parks being a time traveller since his body was missing as well as his soul. They were joined by Jericho and Divij who checked his mirror; “As I thought, This Mrs. Daisy Coalman was reported by Team 31 to be a practicing witch. She received twenty years in quarantine for her actions whilst alive. She didn’t die of any fever, according to Human Records she was poisoned. Now, this is a nice tin of worms we’ve opened.” Jericho sighed; “So, we now have two bleeding time travellers, but we know only one returned here from 1791. But which bloody one and more importantly, why?” Owen coughed into hand and smiled; “Aren’t we overlooking a couple of things here. Is it co-incidence that he died on this very day and who put the bunch of flowers on his grave?” Everyone stared at the lovely spray of fresh flowers placed against the old tombstone. Alex checked; there was no card. “They’re for the day he died I suppose.” She said quietly. That’s when they heard the voice behind them and turned. It was the Reverend John Walker under a huge umbrella. He greeted his churchyard visitors with some warmth. Jericho introduced everyone and praised the vicar on his well-kept churchyard and asked about the flowers placed on the old grave. He also asked about the very, very late Harold Parks and did he still have family living around here. The Reverend shook his head, saying he didn’t know, there were no ‘Park’s’ in his large congregation presently. But he had seen the young woman who placed the flowers. “She was very well dressed and very elegant – like your wife – and she drove away in a very big new car. This year’s model, so it stuck in the memory. Even my wealthy parishioners have moaned about how difficult it is, getting a new car this year. They are all going for export to help the balance of payments you know. Our war debt to the Americans is quite horrendous.”
Divij asked if she was accompanied by anyone. The Reverend shook his head; he didn’t know. After saying their thanks, the team headed back to their car and sat whilst Jericho consulted his mirror. He looked up and told Alex to return to the hotel. “I wonder if that middle-aged man’s wife drives a brand-new car.” He said quietly and also wondered what her connection was with the time-travelling Parks. Indeed, was her ‘husband’ Parks himself? He watched the window wipers run across the screen as the rain now fell with some force. Then some real rational thinking raced through his sharp mind. He turned to Divij and Owen. “If it’s Parks with the young woman, then why the sodding flowers? They would both know that Harold wasn’t dead. So, the flowers had to be for who’s really buried there: the witch Daisy Coalman. Is the woman a descendant? We know from experience that worship of the Dark Prince tends to run in families, down the generations and especially where witches are concerned. It will soon be All Hallows night, a big night for Devil worshippers everywhere and I wonder if the ‘Black Cockerel’ Witches Coven will celebrate, if they still exist, of course.” Jericho sat back and checked his mirror again. Whilst Owen lowered his mirror; “Do you think our devil loving witches will hold a Black Sabbath in the woods or at the old crypt? They will certainly be looking for somewhere appropriate to hold it.”
Divij stared out the window at the rain; “I would think there is very good chance of that with Sir Sebastian believed to be a Black priest that would explain his arrival. But if it’s Parks that has returned, is he here for the same reason? After all, there’s a witch buried in his own grave!” Jericho ran a hand over his face and grunted; “Like we checked that grave, we’ll check to see if Sir Sebastian is at home. Alex, stop in the village and we’ll get a ladder and a good rope. I wonder if we could call this graveyard Bungee jumping?” He chuckled at his own humour, but Alex just sighed and turned the car towards the village.
4. HAMMER HOUSE, NORTH YORKSHIRE, Evening of Friday 27th October 1950.
The evening meal was lively with the noise, talk and laughter, from the student’s tables. Jericho had to smile, remembering his own student days and Owen just loved being around lots of young people who were actually alive and enjoying themselves. Alex enjoyed it and actually wanted to join their little party. Divij sat in his usual silence and picked at his meal. Sighing loudly occasionally at the noise from the other tables. That’s when Jericho saw the middle-aged man sit at his table – alone – and order his dinner from the young waitress. Jericho operated his mirror and stared at the result.
He leaned forward and said quietly; “A certain Earnest Cantrell from York. He’s of this time and place with nothing known about him by Temporal Intelligence. He appears clean. Which is a disappointment, so our attention must swing to Harold Parks and Cantrell’s supposed wife. We all saw their brand-new car in the hotel carpark, so she could be the woman who turned up at the churchyard. There are very few brand-new cars around these parts as that vicar pointed out.” The team enjoyed their meal and had a few drinks with the students in the bar. Jericho paid for a couple of rounds which went down well with the students. Lizzie made sure that she stood near Jericho and smiled a lot at him – despite his ‘wife’ also standing there! It was Kate that managed to prise Lizzie away from him and the pair sat a small table, chatting.
Everyone in the team noticed that when Mr. Sykes appeared to check on things, Lizzie clearly flirted with the big man. Alex sighed but smiled; “I think Lizzie really likes men, but she’s too bloody obvious about it. She may as well hitch up her skirt and offer it. A very silly girl.” Owen chuckled at that; “Yeah, but how many men would turn it down, obvious or not?” Divij just shook his head in real despair but said nothing. Jericho sat watching the interaction between Sykes and Lizzie with some interest. He wondered if they actually knew each other before they apparently met up in the hotel. He was a shrew judge of human behaviour and character, and his instincts were telling him that he could be right about that. He turned to Owen; “Did you stash the ladder and ropes by the old crypt?” Owen nodded; “Also hid four flashlights and informed reception to tell the night porter we won’t be back until after midnight.”
“Yes, that’ll do.” Jericho admitted his satisfaction at Owens’s actions. Hopefully, they would discover the real fate of Sir Sebastian tonight. Their cover story was that they were meeting friends in the village pub and so, they wouldn’t return until the pub threw out. With the drive back, they would be back after midnight, so Mr. Ferris – the night porter – would have to let them in. The hotel locked up at eleven.
Owen was watching the students at the bar and rubbed his chin, turning to Alex who was watching Lizzie and Sykes. “Which one of the students is this Master’s fellow? Do you know?” Alex shook her head; “But here comes Mr. Sykes, now he has managed to pull away from Lizzie’s obvious charms. He’ll know.”
Sykes smiled at them and asked if everything was satisfactory. He seemed genuinely happy when Jericho said it was. Owen asked him about Reynold Master’s – they wanted to thank the young man for his invite and buy him a drink – and gestured to the students adding; “Which one is he?” Sykes stared at the students and shook his head; “I’m afraid he’s not here tonight sir, He and…. well, a lady friend has gone to the ‘Woodsman’ pub in the village. Apparently, she’s an old friend of the family.” Owen thanked him and Sykes wandered off after talking to the barman.
Owen looked about and sipped his brandy; “If Sykes is the assistant manager, then who is the hotel manager and has anyone seen him?” They all shook their heads with Alex adding; “That’s odd, I also spotted that and has anyone else noticed that Sykes is always on reception. Where are the receptionists, there should be a couple for a big hotel like this.” Divij rolled his empty glass of lemonade around in his hands and stared about the bar. “Cantrell’s gone and that girl Kate has joined the others at the bar, but that young tart Lizzie has also left.”
Alex grunted; “Maybe young Kate pointed out just how obvious she was with Sykes.” Divij nodded at that and sat back, checking his watch. It was almost eight o’clock and time for the team to depart for the village and their supposed rendezvous with their ‘friends’ at the ‘Woodsman’ pub. Divij drove to the village and parked in the pub carpark which only had four other cars. It was Alex that spotted the big, brand-new car sitting by the pubs front door. “I suspect that Cantrell’s ‘wife’ could be in the pub, which is handy. We can run a mirror over her.” She spoke to the others as they pushed through the door and headed for the bar; everyone looking around the crowded the pub for the tall, elegant woman. They were disappointed; she wasn’t there. Alex even tried the ladies toilet with no success and when she returned found the team had secured a small table with just two chairs. Jericho was in one [no surprise there!] and the other seat was, of course, for her. Owen bought a tray of drinks from the bar and had to smile; “The barmaid asked my age and I had to show her my driving license!” He handed out the drinks and smiled again; “The barmaid asked about you and I told her the cover story; that you were Jericho’s wife and guess what she said.”
Alex sipped her brandy and asked what the women wanted. Owen almost smiled; “Just that she doesn’t get real elegant ladies in this pub which is mostly frequented by farmers and their wives. You’re the first real lady she’s had in here for months. That means Cantrell’s ‘wife’ never came in the pub tonight.”
Divij grunted; “But that’s definitely Cantrell’s new car outside, so who drove…” He stopped talking and smiled; “Old man Cantrell is here, remember he left the hotel bar some time ago, when that Lizzie tart also disappeared.” Everyone looked at each other and Owen whispered; “Is there a back door to this place and do they rent rooms out?”
Jericho eased himself up and headed for the bar; the team watched him chatting with the barmaid and he purchased yet another round and returned to them, placing the tray down. “She rented a room to a middle-aged gentleman whose big brand-new car is parked by the door. That cost me half a crown.” Owen chuckled; “The dirty old sod certainly likes them young. Lizzie is far ahead of her time in the sexual liberation game.”
Owen looked about the pub; “I wonder which of the young blokes is Reynold Master’s, he’s supposed to be here with a lady friend, but none look like a student and the only young couple is that pair. And they look like their married; they haven’t smiled at each other, not even once.” Alex had to chuckle at that and suddenly looked up to see Earnest Cantrell walking out the front door. She was on her feet and followed him out, stopping in the doorway and then returned to the table. He apparently hadn’t even noticed the team or especially Alex behind him. She sat back down. “He drove away on his own; there was no-one else in the car that I could see. If he was having a clandestine liaison with Lizzie, then it was damn quick!”
Owen jabbed Jericho and gestured to the pubs big window, another set of headlamps swept the carpark and the car drove away. “That’s bleeding odd.” Alex sipped her brandy and placed her glass down; “Lizzie’s doesn’t have a car here. She told me herself that she came with Kate, Mel and Baz. Dave has a motorcycle, and the Reynolds character has a Ford Anglia apparently. So, who just left the pub through the back door? No-one came through here after Cantrell.”
Jericho shrugged his shoulders and tapped his watch; “Come on, it’s time for a little grave robbing.” They walked back through the car park and Owen stopped by the rear doors of their car. “That’s funny or some kind of co-incidence. Alex says that Master’s has a Ford Anglia and there was one in the car park when we pulled in. Now there are just two cars left - not counting us – and the Ford Anglia has gone. Do you think that it was this character Master’s leaving the pub after meeting Cantrell?” Alex started the engine and agreed with Owen; that was some sort of co-incidence.
Jericho
dismissed the co-incidence idea with a grunt and Alex drove back to the hotel,
stopping in the country lane that ran down the side of the crypt.
Divij hauled the ladder from the roof rack and Owen grabbed the lamps and ropes from the boot and they quietly made their way across the grass to the crypt. Alex, of course, moaned about the mud after the rain and her lovely shoes. All she received back from Jericho was “Supplies will get you another pair.” That ended the conversation until they reached the crypt. They all stood and stared; the two big doors were half open and there was a pale white light coming from within. They threw down the equipment and quickly ran to the doors.
They pushed in and looked about the place with Owen pulling out his mirror. “No living humans, just that hurricane lamp on the floor by that bloody open casket!” Divij grunted; “We must have disturbed them. Probably had a lookout that saw the car pull up the lane. Our headlamps gave us away soon as we turned into the damn road, so they had time to decamp.” Jericho shone his mirror into the open casket, the lid thrown on the floor at his feet. “Just the coffin lining, there’s no remains.” Alex shone her mirror on the base and said quietly; “Sir Sebastian Mooney’s last resting place apparently. If he was here, someone’s snatched the bugger from right under our noses.”
Jericho consulted his mirror and sighed; “There is now only sixteen sets of remains, the bastards must have grabbed one which means we’re still none the wiser if it was actually Sir Sebastian’s corpse in his casket. We still don’t know if he’s the time-traveller or he sold his soul to the Dark side?
Divij who was now keeping watch by the doors, quietly called them over; “The hotel is lit up like Blackpool Tower. Something is going on.”
5. HAMMER HOUSE, NORTH YORKSHIRE, the very early morning of Saturday 28th October 1950.
The team quickly made their way back to the car and drove down the lane and into the driveway of the hotel. The front doors were open and an old man in a dull blue suit was smoking his pipe, arms folded, staring up at the moon. He smiled and removed his pipe as the team walked up the steps. “Ah, you must be the Tibbs party. I was told that you would be back after midnight. I’m Ferris the night porter.”
Jericho gestured to the lights and asked what was happening and the old man chuckled. “One of the girls in room 9 set off the fire alarm, screaming the bloody place down. Says she was touched up by a ghost!” Everyone exchanged looks between themselves: they all knew that no earth bound spirits had been recorded in the hotel, never mind a bloody poltergeist. He followed them into the hotel foyer which was filled with guests and staff in their night clothes. Mr. Sykes was clearly in control of the situation, sitting on the reception desk in red striped pajamas, telling everyone that there was no fire, and they could return to their rooms. Seeing the team, he quickly leapt from the desk and went straight up to Alex; “I wonder Doctor Tibbs, if you could take a look at a young lady who is very upset. She’s in my office being comforted by her friend. I think a little chat with a lady doctor could prove most comforting.”
Alex agreed immediately and followed Sykes behind the reception desk and through a door marked ‘Private’. That’s when Baz and Mel appeared and said – smiling broadly – that the bar had been opened to calm people’s nerves. Owen didn’t need a second invitation and the team waited in the bar for Alex’s report. The Barman seemed more than happy to serve at this time of night and Jericho saw why, everyone was buying him a drink each time they purchased one as a thank you. Jericho did the same and he and Owen enjoyed a brandy, with one on standby for Alex when she returned. Divij had an orange juice and was happy with that. Well, happy as he ever was….
The hotel, its staff and guests had settled back down for the night and Alex was wrapped up warm and snug under the covers of the big bed, the only fly in her happiness ointment was bleeding Jericho snoring on the sofa. She found herself smiling about Kate – the huge skeptic about the paranormal and supernatural – having her arse felt by a supposed ‘ghost’ and screaming the place down. It had panicked Lizzie so much, that being woken from a deep sleep to the screaming had operated the fire alarm!
Kate had calmed down a lot after chatting with Alex; she didn’t need or want any sedative and went back to bed. Alex had to smile at the difference between the two girls. Kate in her striped pyjamas and socks whilst Lizzie had – shocking in these times for an unmarried woman – a ‘baby-doll’ on that left little to the imagination. Apparently, Mr. Sykes gave her, his pyjamas top because she was drawing so much attention from the men.
But the fire alarm allowed Jericho to make a couple of new discoveries; the mysterious ‘Mrs. Armstrong’ didn’t put in an appearance and neither did Reynold Masters. Earnest Cantrell – generously – paid for a complete round of drinks for everyone, including the staff before everyone retired – again – for the night. Alex had accompanied the girls back to their room and had to agree with Kate that there was indeed a slight smell of tobacco smoke in the room. Discretely, Alex checked her mirror and found that there were still no traces of an earthbound spirit: poltergeist or not.
Kate, now back in bed, explained – for the fourth time – how she had been sound sleep when she felt a cold, clammy hand down the back of her pajamas bottoms, which pushed its long cold fingers into the crevasse of her bum. She had had jumped into the air, letting go a terrible scream which made poor Lizzie fall from the bed and rush to the door and set the fire alarm off. Both girls admitted having actually seen no-one or anything in the room except themselves. Alex checked around the room and found there were no secret panels or hidden doors. She left the pair and headed back to the bar, where she had found Jericho and the others drinking. She really appreciated the brandy and spoke quietly with her colleagues; “Fake, I believe. Probably made up by young Kate to start tonight’s party with a bang. She obviously hadn’t told Lizzie about the joke because she was clearly and genuinely frightened about the whole so called haunting. Very clever, but I did smell tobacco smoke in the room and neither girl smokes. That’s open for discussion, but the rest of the story is just that; a story for Halloween.”
Owen sipped his brandy and smiled; “Yeah, but it was worth it to see Lizzie in that ‘Baby-Doll’ outfit. Now that’s definitely a bit risky for this time and place: it was practically see-through and she certainly didn’t have a corset on!” Smiling, Alex nodded her agreement: in this period of time, such night wear was reserved for married women and even then, it was considered ‘naughty & risqué’ by most.
Jericho finished his brandy and looked about the bar; “No mystery woman or the organizer of all this; Reynold Masters. Odd that we haven’t seen the young man behind this party.”
Divij
grunted; “Probably waiting to make a grand entrance on Party night. Depends on
his ego I suppose.” Mr. Sykes appeared, telling everyone that it was safe to
return to their rooms and quickly downed a whisky that Mr. Cantrell had given
him. The pair stood talking for a few good minutes before Cantrell muttered
‘goodnight’ to everyone and departed.
It had been troubling Owen, so he asked Mr. Sykes outright. “Who actually owns the hotel?” Sykes almost smiled; “Why the owner is staying with us presently. Mr. Capp, the manager, has taken his holidays and is now enjoying the South of France with his family. His wife is the receptionist here so, with both away the owner is here helping out.” Owen nodded – that solved one little mystery – and repeated his question; “Who actually owns the hotel?” Mr. Sykes now smiled; “Why Mr. Cantrell, he usually helps out when senior management take leave. Sometimes his stepsister helps out, but she’s married to a prominent English archaeologist and normally resides in Egypt. She can – obviously – only assist when they are back in the country.”
Jericho also asked the man outright about the women who dined with Cantrell and Mr. Sykes seemed shocked by that; he ran a hand over his face and spluttered his words; “Why, that was Mrs. Cantrell – the new Mrs. Cantrell – he had been a widower for some years before marrying again. I really do not believe its any business of yours Mr. Tibbs, I really do.” Sykes walked away shaking his head in disbelief at being asked such a question. Alex chuckled and then had a good idea. She called Mr. Ferris over and asked with a big smile if any other guests were due back late. The old man pulled his pipe from his mouth and smiled; “No, only your party. I understand that young Mr. Master’s is not due to stay tonight. But will be back in the time for the party this evening. He’s quite a laugh, but I certainly couldn’t repeat some of the jokes he told me to a lady.”
That’s when Alex realized that the smell from his huge pipe was very similar to the smell in the Girls room. She asked – casually – about his duties apart from being the night porter and was he paid enough for them. She discovered a little task he performed that solved the mystery of the tobacco smell. Mr. Ferris also made up the fires in the guest’s rooms if the young Kitchen Assistant didn’t have time. Jericho did smile at that; the team was certainly getting the minor mysteries solved. So, Alex and the team had settled back into their rooms and Alex now lay drifting off to sleep in the quiet room, well, apart from Jericho’s snoring.
Owen crept down the corridor and slipped into the small toilet and groaned with relief as he took a long piss: drinking just before bedtime always had this effect. He carefully washed his hands and made sure his pajama trousers were closed. That’s when he heard the noises in the corridor outside, very subdued, quiet talk. Two men were obviously speaking just a few yards from the toilet door. He pressed close against the keyhole, but couldn’t make out who was in the corridor, but he could hear a little of what was being said. He cussed himself for leaving his mirror in the bedroom and strained hard, listening at the keyhole. He probably only managed to hear about 20% of the actual conversation.
“I’m sorry sir, but she ---------the car came up the lane and we had to --------- He’s has already arranged another ---------- you won’t be disturbed until ---------- The High ---------will all go as planned. You will be happy with ----------not fail the Master.” The voice sounded a little afraid [so Owen thought] then he heard the other voice and that made him shiver a little. It sounded evil. It really actually did! Christ! You wouldn’t want that voice reading your kid a bloody bedtime story Owen concluded to himself! It’s certainly not nice and quite bloody chilling: but stayed pressed up against the keyhole. “Tell him that I won’t --------- the ritual must be -------- The Master himself is due and you --------- make sure all is done. There will be no -------- don’t fail me or --------- get it fucking done.”
Owen could then hear shallow footsteps and the corridor was quiet. He slowly opened the door and stepped out and walked slowly down the empty corridor but stopped and took a deep breath. There was a strange smell now – it hadn’t been there before – and he took another breath and thought hard about the lingering aroma. He ran a hand over his face and realized what the smell was, damp earth or wet soil. He suddenly felt himself shudder and he quickly disappeared into his room. Divij was sound asleep in his bed, so Owen slipped into his own bed and checked his mirror, also recording what he could remember of the strange conversation.
6. HAMMER HOUSE, NORTH YORKSHIRE, Morning of Saturday 28th October 1950.
“It’s just the bobby from the village, taking notes and talking to Sykes and Cantrell about the grave robbing last night. Apparently, they believe it’s just a sick Halloween prank by the bloody students and young Mr. Master’s is the chief suspect.” Alex was enjoying her breakfast, chatting with her ‘husband’ and their friend from the former colony of India [well, that was the cover story.] That was until Owen finally joined them, having joined the crowd of quiet students gathered around the crypt. What he had to report wasn’t good and even stopped Jericho enjoying his full English.
After Owen had recounted the conversation heard outside the toilet door, Jericho placed his knife and fork down. “Just the few words you could make out clearly tell me that the Witches Coven is definitely back in business around here: if it ever did close down. The references to the ‘Master’ can only mean Prince David [the ‘Devil’] and we know how much these people love their rituals. Prince John told me that his uncle [Prince David] likes to think of Halloween as a kind of birthday party thrown for him by his devotees. “ Divij grunted; “That actually makes sense, I mean those kind of people celebrating the birth of evil.”
Owen then spoke of the strange earthy smell after the pair had left. He sipped his coffee and didn’t smile; “Just like Alex smelling old Ferris’s pipe smoke in the girls bedroom, I have realized where I encountered that smell before. It was in the crypt when we leaned over Sir Sebastian’s empty casket. Those two bastards must have handled his corpse to smell like that. And no, I didn’t recongnise the voices, but once you hear the angry sounding one, you’ll understand why I say he sounds like evil in its vocal form.”
Divij took a sip of his orange juice and spoke quietly; “They must need the dead body for their rituals, but if they wish to summon the so called ‘Master’ himself, then they will require – sadly - a live sacrifice, normally a young woman. I take it Operational Intelligence still can’t track the whereabouts of Prince David. But then, they can’t track any of the Holy family, can they.” Jericho nodded at that; “I doubt very much if Prince David will show up in person, but he could send a senior minion in his place. No living human has – obviously – met Prince David in the flesh so as to speak. So, a minion could easily play him, and Operations can track those bastards: they’ll warn us if one turns up and would send a Knight immediately.”
“Now that’s a comforting thought.” Muttered Alex and finished her scrambled eggs on toast. She refilled everyone’s coffee cups and explained that young Reynold Master’s didn’t stay at the hotel last night but was due back for the party. Jericho sat back and folded his arms; “I think we are missing something here, but I can’t put my bloody finger on it. Dam it!”
Owen sat back, slowing buttering another piece of toast and sounded puzzled [which he was] and just came out with his thoughts; “Why would you poison a witch? I mean, witches use poison all the time and magic potions for their spells, how did this Daisy witch fall for it? I mean drink the stuff not knowing it was poison. That sounds strange to me.” Everyone just looked at him. “Well, maybe she was a rotten witch who didn’t pay enough attention in potions class. Or she drank the stuff willingly….” Alex stopped talking and Divij said what she was thinking; “She didn’t realise that she was the sacrifice?” Alex nodded.
Jericho finished his coffee and said simply; “Interesting.” He rose from the table and headed outside in time to see the old bobby cycling down the hotel driveway and the quiet crowd returning from the crypt. He stopped Mel and Baz and asked them outright if they had anything to with the disturbance of the crypt. They both were quite subdued and shook their heads in silence. Jericho then asked about the mysterious Reynold Master’s and Mel shook his head again; “No, I don’t think he would be that stupid to come up with something like that. I know he likes a joke and a laugh, but his old man would kill him, if he was expelled over such a stupid prank. He want’s Reynold to graduate and join him in Egypt. Old man Master’s is quite a big-name Archeologist out there and he wouldn’t want a scandal like this to smear the family name…. or rather his name and career.”
Jericho suddenly remembered the conversation with Sykes and asked if Lizzie and Reynold’s were related. Baz did smile a little; “I suppose they are. Apparently, his mother [Reynold’s] is stepsister to Lizzie’s father. Lizzie was by her dad’s first wife who died some years ago. I don’t know what you would call that relationship; it’s not cousins is it?” Jericho admitted he didn’t know and thanked them for their candour.
Jericho
smiled at the pair and watched them slowly walk back into the hotel. He now
knew that Master’s was at the pub, seeing his mother’s stepbrother: Earnest
Cantrell. Should that be of importance to the ongoing investigation? At least
it explained how an apparently penniless student managed to book the hotel for
a Halloween party!
Then, as he stared at the crypt, watching the two grounds men repairing the doors, he suddenly wondered why the pair had a meeting in the village pub and not the hotel? Why were they hiding their get together? They could have easily met up in one of the rooms or in the back office, after all, Cantrell owns the damn place and Reynold’s mum is his stepsister. Why would anyone staying at the hotel, pay attention or be interested in such a meeting? Then there was Cantrell’s young wife, where had she disappeared too and more importantly: why? Jericho was deep in thought when the team joined him on the steps to the hotel and he explained about Mel and Baz and their revelations about Master’s and Cantrell.
Alex had to smile; “Remember what Sykes said when we asked him about where Reynold’s was? On a night out with a ‘Lady’ was the reply. Hands up if everyone thinks it was old Cantrell’s young wife?” Jericho – with a wry smile – nodded; “You have a dirty and devious mind Alexandra, but in this instance, I think you could be right.” Now everyone did agree with the devious mind bit, much to Alex’s annoyance!
Owen grunted; “So that’s why Reynold’s not around and that explains why Cantrell’s young wife is missing too: the pair are holed up somewhere shagging and old man Cantrell probably confronted Reynold’s at the pub. That’s why he left so quickly and not in a good mood.” Divij sighed; “Well thought out, but not pleasantly put.” Alex just chuckled, seeing the look on Divij disappointed face, whilst Jericho just walked off, strolling around the grounds with the team behind talking amongst themselves.
He stopped suddenly and turned to Owen; “Check around the area for hotels, boarding houses and Bed & breakfasts that are not fussy about the marital status of their guests. I have a gut feeling about our missing lady and possibly her student lover. If the witches Coven are planning a big ritual for the Dark Prince, then they must provide a human sacrifice. A young woman or young man would be equally effective and appropriate. Maybe even both if the occasion is going to be a big celebration of evil.”
Owen
grinned; “Top notch Boss! I’ll get on it right away.” Alex immediately said she
would help, and the pair walked back to the hotel, deep in conversation. Divij –
as usual – said nothing. He and Jericho also headed back into the hotel.
Jericho slapped the hotel register shut as Alex gave a discrete wave to Divij, standing next to him. George Sykes – the assistant manager – was on his way back to the reception desk. Divij quickly grabbed up a copy of the local newspaper from the counter and pretended to speak with Jericho about it. He spoke loudly, turning the pages as Mr. Sykes smiled at the pair. He seemed in a very good mood. He explained that the ‘noisy’ students would be checking out tomorrow and he was expecting a Ladies Book reading club, who were holding a conference here on Monday. He confided that the ladies were very quiet and always tipped the staff well.
Divij mentioned how nice the weather was now the rain had stopped and after exchanging a little more small talk, Jericho and Divij joined Alex and Owen in the Dining room. They waited for the young waiter to leave before Jericho drew the team close and spoke quietly, “Talk about the devil is in the detail. The student, Lizzie or Elizabeth, her surname is indeed Cantrell. Our middle-aged man has signed in as Armstrong and wife, but our mirrors show him to be Earnest Cantrell. So, he must be Elizabeth’s father. But why sign in under a false name in a hotel that he bloody owns?”
“Maybe he’s keeping an eye on his wayward daughter. We all saw her behaviour last night and she did leave after he had words with her. But who really is ‘Mrs. Armstrong’, we haven’t seen her since they dined together on Friday, and we haven’t been able to check her with our mirrors. Now that’s an important little detail I think.” Alex said quietly and didn’t smile.
“Talk about little details, what have we missed and it’s like a bloody elephant in the front room?” Jericho asked his team. Alex and Divij shock their heads, they didn’t have a clue. But Owen slowly leaned across the table and smiled; “This Halloween party was held on the 28th because it was a Saturday: a perfect day for the students since they’re at university all week. But the real Black Sabbath would be held by the witches on the correct night; the bleeding 31st. I think we’ll find that on Tuesday night, things will really start jumping around here.” Jericho smiled, nodding his satisfaction that Owen had indeed spotted the bloody ‘elephant’.
Alex lowered her coffee cup; “So we need to keep an eye out for several women and maybe, one or two males turning up, unless the witches are all locals. Then, where is the most likely place to have their Sabbath? There are no disused churches or derelict graveyards around here for miles and the old crypt can be seen from the hotel and the road which runs into the village. So, where can they hold their ritual around here? I think several naked women, and men wearing nothing, but goat heads would be noticed in the quiet English countryside.”
“Good point.” Owen muttered and buttered himself some more toast. Jericho tapped the table gently with his fork; “We need to scour the local area for a site suitable for such a convention and lay in wait.” He suddenly dropped the fork and said quietly; “Bloody convention. How did I miss that?”
Owen shrugged his shoulders; “What Convention?”
Jericho sat back; “The assistant manager told Divij and me that a Ladies Book Club is holding a convention here today and I will bet that they are all booked into until Wednesday. What better cover for a group of witches to use, everyone will believe they are just here – legitimately – for the Book Club. No one will pay attention to so many extra women turning up in one place if they are all attending a harmless book convention.”
Alex smiled; “I can find out. I’ll ask our room maid Julie about the convention; she’ll know because she and Lyndia [the other hotel maid] will have to make the rooms up. She’ll know how long their staying.” Jericho nodded his approval at that. “Right, let’s find out where they are holding the damn thing.”
Owen and Alex sat in the hotel’s small library and discretely checked their mirrors beneath books and newspapers at the table by the window. There was silence between the two as they ‘scoured’ the local area for a suitable venue for the witches to use. “Bugger all.” Was all Owen muttered: twice. Alex had to agree with him. The closest place was a derelict textile factory down Doncaster Road, which had closed some four years ago, just after the war finished. Owen rubbed his chin; “Listen to this, the factory closed down and caused some unemployment around the local villages. It’s now boarded up and waiting for a buyer. It
was
first opened in 1824 by the Mooney family but was sold in 1900 to Sir Robin
Salt – a textile Baron – who also bought the Hammer House estate. It was sold
in 1938 to a Development Company from York who kept the place running during
the war, making yarn for military uniforms. The company closed it up after the
war ended and demand for uniforms dried up. It sits on the former site…” He
stopped talking and smiled broadly, tapping Alex’s hand. He continued; “On the
former site of St. Margret’s medieval chapel that burnt down in 1821. The new
church of St. James the Less was built in 1822 to replace the chapel. The
chapel’s old graveyard remains at the rear of the factory but hasn’t been used
for over a century. It is understood that the Chapel’s small crypt is now lost beneath
the factory. It had been noted for containing the remains of the notorious and
mysterious Sir Edmund Planchet who died in 1770. He
is credited as being one of the first men in English history to be accused and
tried as a vampire!”
Alex was now intrigued; “What happened to him.” Owen looked about and continued; “He was tried at York assizes in 1764 on crimes of witchcraft, assault, rape and wait for it; drinking the blood of his women victims. The prosecution claimed that Sir Edmund believed doing so would make him immortal! But several of the witnesses failed to appear and the Judge – Lord Roberts – had to acquit him of all charges. He returned to his estate and apparently lived quietly until his death in 1770. It was reported that no-one attended his funeral, and he was interned in the chapel crypt.” Owen really smiled; “Here’s the best bit, over the years since his death several women reported waking up in the morning with marks on the neck and feeling seriously weak and tired! A mob gathered after one such incident and apparently the chapel was accidently burnt down during the chaos. Locals then buried the burnt remains under tons of dirt and later, the factory was built over it. It was reported that no more attacks were reported after the chapel burnt down. Now, if that’s not the place for a Black Sabbath on All Hallows night, I’ll eat my underpants!”
Alex rose from the table grinning; “I think we’ve cracked it. Who owns the factory – and by default – the graveyard and crypt now?” Owen gathered the books and newspapers together and checked his mirror again, “Oh, it’s a Mister E. Cantrell….” He stopped talking and they both stared at each other. Alex said softly; “I think we best tell Jericho about this at once. That is definitely no co-incidence!” They headed for Jericho’s room, walking quickly. Jericho stood by the window and didn’t seem shocked at all, by the vampire story. He almost smiled; “Well, you see, they do actually exist. I mean they are rare. Old Doc Silas dealt with the last one that I remember. It was in Medieval Paris, and it had its home in the dungeons of a derelict castle. A real bugger to capture. You see, the body doesn’t matter – this one was almost three hundred years old – it’s the soul that concerns us. Doc managed to draw the soul out. The body – minus its soul – quickly turned into its true state and rapidly decomposed: it was now just a pile of bones. The soul was quarantined for hundreds of human years because it was seriously contaminated with evil. They are some kind of pet project of the Dark Prince. He only makes a few, now and again. But when he does, they are normally a real pain in the arse.”
Owen stood with his mouth open in utter amazement. “You mean they really do exist!” He sounded incredulous and Jericho just nodded, adding: “They are not quite like the legends about them. They can’t pass through walls or stuff like that. They have a human body, so that’s impossible. Strings of garlic or crucifixes don’t bother them either. But they are strong and of course, immortal. One thing the legends got right was daylight; they are blind during daylight hours and can only see in the dark. They are nocturnal hunters, so that makes sense. But they are usually clever and cunning. A witches Coven would seem like finding the holy Grail to them. All those women for sex and blood!”
Divij eased from his seat; “So, are we going after this one, IF, he’s still active which I doubt since there have been no reports of any such attacks around here for over a century. Maybe that mob back in 1821 really did put an end to its adventures.”
Jericho shrugged his shoulders; “Well, if it turns up whilst we’re busting the witches, then we’ll call a Guardian to deal with it.” [Guardians can compel reluctant or unwilling souls to the light, Temporal Detectives and Collectors don’t have that ability].
Alex sat on the bed and folded her arms; “So Cantrell could be actually involved in all this. Do you think that the so-called Mrs. Armstrong could be one of the witches? Or even that wayward daughter of his?” Jericho nodded at that; “I think you could be right there Alex otherwise we have a pile of co-incidences, and I don’t really believe in co-incidences. Now do I.”
7. HAMMER HOUSE, NORTH YORKSHIRE, Afternoon of Saturday 28th October 1950.
“They are staying to Wednesday Morning according to Julie. Four ladies who – strangely enough – have stayed here for the last three years, always over the Halloween period. But here’s the best part, Julie mentioned it to Mrs. Jennings [the housekeeper] who said three of the women always stayed here before the war. But what she said about the fourth may be really interesting.” Alex stated and grabbed a coffee from the tray on the sideboard and sat on Jericho’s bed. “What so interesting?” Divij muttered, staring over the rim of his cup.
“It’s always the same three ladies with the fourth woman being a newcomer. Same three ladies with a new woman each year they stay.” Alex smiled and sipped her coffee. Jericho eased up in his chair. “They bring the sacrifice. I bet one lady is never seen again after the so-called celebration and who’s to notice? The other three would tidy up her room, remove her things and tell everyone that she left early or something. Who the hell would question it because no-one knows she has disappeared! I bet each year, four women book in, but only three really book out and no would notice or care.”
“Fuck! That’s really clever; the poor woman probably doesn’t even know that her new best friends are fucking witches! And I bet they select someone without too many friends or family.” Own shook his head in disbelief at the witches clever scheme.
Jericho sat back in his chair and rubbed his chin, “We’ll deal with that problem when it arrives. It should be easy to discover the ‘newcomer’ and protect her. But firstly, we need to discover who the time traveler is, Mooney or Parks. They must have the time portal device on them, so once we discover the culprit, we can deal with both those little problems at the same time.”
Owen chuckled; “And if we run into a vampire?” Jericho shrugged his shoulders, “Keep your neck away from him and call for a Guardian.” Alex eased from the bed and placed her cup down. “So, we don’t go after the mysterious Mrs. Armstrong or young Reynold?” Jericho nodded slowly; “Until some concrete proof pops up they could be in danger; we’ll assume they are just a pair of illicit lovers for now.”
Jericho stood and headed for the door; “Let’s take a look at that old factory site before we change for the party.”
Alex parked the A40 Austin Devon in a small lay by and the team walked across the quiet road and stood staring at the boarded-up factory. “Apparently the old graveyard is at the rear of the boiler shed.” Owen pulled his mirror out, “According to the original plans, the chapel was….” He stopped talking and ran a hand over his face, then added really quietly; “There’s a living human some thirty feet underground, below where the boiler house chimney is. Oh, my fucking God! Human Records identify it as Sir Edmund Planchet!” There was absolute silence for a few seconds then Jericho said softly; “I take it they never emptied the old crypt when they pulled down the chapel. I would also say there’s still an entrance to it around here.”
Alex gripped Owens arm; “Sir Edmund Planchet the bleeding well known vampire!” Owen nodded, but half smiled; “Well, you can now ask himself, if the rumours about him were true!” Divij sighed; “Shall I send for a Guardian?” Jericho nodded and the team headed for the disused factory. It would be their first encounter with such a creation of the Dark Prince. “Oscar’s on his way.” Divij murmured and smiled; he has always liked the little man and of course, Oscar was well known and loved by Team 74 anyway.
That’s when Owen saw the figure by the big doors to the ‘Packing Area’ and his mirror buzzed loudly, then everyone realised that their mirrors were all buzzing. “Holy fucking shit! It’s Kiri and he’s a fucking Tier One Demon!” [See episode: ‘Cordless, Cordless & Fraser (Solicitors)’.] Owen yelled, and Jericho didn’t hesitate: he operated his ‘Emergency Travel App’ and the team was gone.
They appeared behind the old crypt in the hotel grounds and Jericho breathed deep. “He was a warning. Kiri could have had us, soon as we drove up, but he didn’t: he let us see him there as a warning. His master must want his little creation guarded and probably Kiri will stand in for him at the witch’s ritual. We are going to need a Knight if he’s hanging around the place. Cancel Oscar, he would just waste his time, now we know there’s a Tier One demon involved in all this.”
Jericho checked his mirror; there were no warnings, and it was showing that the Tier One Demon was gone from the area. He nodded, knowing he was right: Kiri had given them a warning. Divij grunted; “I have warned Supplies to take care when collecting our car.” Jericho just nodded; The Dark Side viewed support staff as ‘civilians’ and of no real value in the war between light and dark. It is rumoured or rather legend, that old Joe from Supplies had walked up and recovered a team’s horse and carriage in fourteenth Century Spain, whilst Sol [another Tier One Demon] patted the damn horse’s! Old Joe had just raised his hat and said, ‘Morning Sir’ and walked the horses and carriage away! Sol had just smiled and returned a ‘Good morning, Joe’. And that was that! Old Joe was certainly a legend around the Temporal Department.
Owen lowered his mirror and smiled; “Eh, I think everyone will want to know this, my mirror is reporting a time portal close by!” Everyone turned to their mirrors and muttered their agreement. “It’s in the hotel at this very moment.” Divij said quietly and Jericho smiled; “Every dark cloud has a silver lining. Come on and Owen keep your mirror tracking it.” They headed to the hotel, now in a far better mood.
They entered the foyer and found a shouting match in progress between Mr. Cantrell and his daughter Lizzie. Mr. Sykes was behind the reception desk with a shocked look on his face mixed with some embarrassment. Earnest Cantrell just waved aside what Lizzie – clearly angry – was yelling at him. “You can have your damn party and I will pick you up tomorrow morning and you are going back to university my girl. End of argument.”
He strode away towards the front doors and didn’t even acknowledge Jericho or his team. Owen checked his mirror and whispered to Jericho; “Well, it’s not him. No portal.” Lizzie wiped her face and walked quickly up the stairs. Mr. Sykes was clearly relieved that the nasty little incident was over and weakly smiled at Jericho. “Family dispute.” Was all he said. That’s when Alex spotted a concerned looking Kate in the doorway to the reading room and library. She walked straight over, and the pair chatted as Owen slowly followed Lizzie up the stairs: he was tracking the time portal’s location.
Jericho and Divij sat in the morning room and ordered coffee from a very pleasant young waiter. They sat and waited, discretely keeping an eye on their mirrors. Alex re-joined them and had to smile; “Well, my devious and naughty mind was right. Young Reynold’s and Cantrell’s young wife have decided to run off together! Lizzie doesn’t want to take sides because she like’s Reynold so much and that flew up her father’s nose.” That’s when Jericho’s mirror buzzed: it was Owen calling. The time portal was in a room in the attics, where the live-in hotel staff stayed. The team didn’t wait for their coffees and quickly headed up the stairs.
They found Owen – almost chuckling – outside a door just off the attic staircase. He held a finger up to his lips and then whispered; “Two humans inside, both identified by human records, and one has a time portal device on them.” He held up his mirror and Alex managed to restrain her surprised giggle. Jericho ran a hand over his face and smiled; “Harold Parks and a certain Dawn Jarrod, who works here as a waitress. She’s from this time and place with Intelligence having nothing on her, so Harold’s our time traveling refugee.” Owen nodded; “They are having sex on the bloody floor!”
Jericho smiled again; “Close the time portal for good. Then we’ll drag Harold Parks back to his own time.” Soon as Owen closed the portal, Jericho stopped time [only Inspectors have that capability] and they pushed into the room to be a little shocked.
The
pair were naked on the floor in the ‘Missionary’ position, and everyone said
almost together; “Bloody old Mister Ferris!” The randy old night-porter would
now be traveling back to 27th October 1791 to meet his scheduled
departure date. Divij and Owen would take him back and Owen’s parting words
were “Well, at least he’ll go with a smile on his face.”
Alex sighed, looking at the naked young woman on the floor; “She’ll never know what happened to her old lover. But I think that’s for the best. It can just become another mysterious story about this place.” Jericho agreed and they walked down the attic stairs, with Jericho re-starting local time. “Come on, let’s have that coffee we ordered and get our costumes ready. We can stay for the party at least.” Now Alex liked that idea, she had taken up the hem on her witches costume and really wanted to see the look on Jericho’s face – and the other males of course – at the Halloween party.
8. THE PARTY. HAMMER HOUSE, NORTH YORKSHIRE, Evening of Saturday 28th October 1950.
Jericho
sipped his drink and shook his head at Alex’s costume: she was practically
hanging out of the little black dress which was – as Jericho feared it would be
– ‘right up her arse’. But at least she was wearing black ‘stage-tights’ and
not stockings. He did like her pointy hat and old broom. Mel and Baz were
certainly interested and stood chatting with her. Mel was dressed in a skeleton
costume and Baz had come as a ‘zombie’. He had overdone the make-up and
actually appeared to resemble a sad clown.
Divij stood next to him and said nothing which was usual. He was dressed as an 18th century Sikh warrior complete with curved sword and turban. No-one asked him why he was dressed as a Sikh warrior for a Halloween party. But Owen’s costume was getting loads of praise. He was dressed in an old monk’s habit, with blood stains down the front and a skeleton mask covering his face. “The bloody mad monk of Moorland monastery.” Jericho chuckled, particularly since Owen had – indeed – been a monk at that monastery. Jericho’s costume was his old Edwardian suit – the one he died in – with a black top hat added. That was it and Alex chided him about his lack of effort. He ignored her, of course, but added a black sash for more authenticity. She rolled her eyes and sighed at that pathetic effort.
The other woman drawing a lot of attention was Lizzie in her ‘White Lady’ outfit. The ‘shroud’ was almost transparent, and she had liberated herself from her corsets or brasserie way before it was acceptable. Then, she was wearing nothing else but white panties, suspender belt and stockings. For once [a very rare occurrence] she had more of the males attention that Alex. It was Owen that quietly pointed out the three ‘vampires’, two were classic ‘Count Dracula’s’ [one was Dave the student] but the third was something else. He really did look evil with red eyes and dressed like an 18th century aristocrat. But he was very striking man and handsome. The women present were certainly attracted to him. Owen slipped into a quiet corner and then returned; grim faced. “That’s Sir Edmund Planchet! Our resident real blood sucking vampire. What the hell do we do?” Jericho just sipped his drink; “Nothing yet. I believe protocol insists we tackle the bastard during daylight hours, once we can get past his bloody guard dog [Kiri]. But one of our knights can assist us in that. So, for now, we play it cool.” On that statement, Alex had decided to enjoy herself [no surprise there] and was dancing with Mel, whilst Dave and Kate danced next to them, and the foursome chatted and laughed. Kate had come as a 17th Century peasant woman who been burned at the stake. She had even rubbed ash and soot into her hair for maximum costume authenticity. But rather strangely, two of the other female students had come as American Cheerleaders with short skirts and white ankle socks, while their partners were dressed as NFL players. No-one asked them why.
Keeping a close eye on Sir Edmund Planchet, Jericho stood by the bar and watched the five-piece band playing. He had to smile as they were all dressed in full evening attire, like they were playing at some afternoon tearoom. The young man standing next to him ordered two brandies and handed one to a very shocked Jericho. “There we go Jericho; I hope you will not betray my presence here because that could take a lot of explaining and may ruin the evening.” Jericho just nodded and finally said quietly; “No your Highness, I think that is best left unsaid in the circumstances.” Prince David raised his class and smiled; “Thank you Jericho, my brother would be so pleased that some of his staff still understand how the protocols between us work.”
Jericho wondered how the students and their guests would react to the ‘Devil’ himself attending their Halloween party! The prince smiled again and walked off to speak to Sir Edmund Planchet who seemed more than happy to meet him. Jericho was quickly joined by his team members; all in a state of shock. He calmed them down and shrugged his shoulders; “We can do nothing about him, except keep well out of his way and report it to Operational Control. But what really concerns me is that he doesn’t have any of his powerful minions with him. If he did, our mirrors would be screaming, so – for whatever reason – he’s gone stag tonight and that’s bloody important. What…. or who is he after?”
That’s when they saw the prince dancing with Lizzie, who seemed totally overwhelmed and delighted with her dancing partner. They all exchanged looks and Alex sighed; “How the hell can we warn her?” Jericho shook his head; “Sadly we can’t, not without powerful back-up and that would mean Prince John putting in an appearance and Angel Margret would skin us for that. The BOSS [GOD!] has only just smoothed that little incident over.” [See the Published episode; ‘Snooker, stockings and Devilish deceit’.]
Owen slapped his glass on the bar; “My bloody appetite for this party has dried up.” That’s when everyone turned to the door and the couple who had just strode in. The man was dressed in a complete red devil outfit with horns, tail and pitchfork. The young woman was dressed like a 17th Century Princess with blood stains down her beautiful dress. “She’s come as Countess Elizabeth Báthory de Ecsed, the vampire princess of old Hungry.” Alex said quietly and checked her mirror and didn’t sound surprised; “It’s Mrs. Caroline Cantrell, so the young man must be Reynold Masters.”
9. THE BLACK COCKEREL WITCHES COVEN. Evening of Tuesday 31st October 1950.
Owen slowly placed the paper on the table and shook his head; “No trace of her, the police are treating her disappearance as suspicious. Her father has offered a ten-thousand-pound reward for information leading to her recovery.” [Really serious money in 1950] Alex picked the paper up and sighed; “Her soul is shown as missing, and her body is no longer shown in the current timeline. He has her.” Jericho sat back and stared at the pub clock. “It’s almost throwing out time, let’s get ready to bust some witches, but we don’t move until the Knight turns up.”
Divij pushed his lemonade away; “And what if the Dark Prince turns up instead of one of his minions?” Jericho shook his head; “I don’t believe he will, he has never done so before.” Divij tapped the table; “Yes, but what if he does?” Jericho held up both hands; “Then we get the hell out of there, we can’t confront him, you know that.” Alex sipped her brandy and hesitated, then spoke; “We could always ask Prince John….” She didn’t finish because she saw the look on Jericho’s face and knew that would never happen, even though John would probably love another ‘pop’ at his wayward uncle.
Owen picked up his pint and asked; “What did Operations say about the prince’s visit?” Jericho sighed. “Quizzed me for bloody twenty minutes, they practically wanted to know his shoe size. Really wanted every detail.” Divij sat back arms folded; “Now that’s interesting in itself, I mean….” He never finished because Jericho was slowly rising from his seat, gesturing the others to stand. There was absolute silence around the table as the young woman bounced up to them, smiling. Everyone in the pub was staring at her; she was utterly stunning, wearing the latest fashion with an exquisite hat and coat.
“Hello Jericho, may I join you?” she said quietly, adjusting her little hat. Jericho managed to mutter; “Yes of course your Highness.” Princess Isis held a finger to her lips, “Just call me Issy Jericho.” And sat in the seat Owen offered. She smiled at Alex and told Divij to fetch her a large brandy. He was gone in an instant. Jericho eased back in his seat and managed a smile; two bloody senior members of the Holy Family appear on his mission, so, this was a real time for concerns!
Princess Isis accepted the brandy from a nervous looking Divij and said quietly; “My brother – you know, himself – has asked me to keep an eye on our brother – you know, him – and so here I am. The family thought it best if it was me and not my nephew John. Well, you know how it is between them.” She smiled again at Alex, who knocked her brandy back in one hit. “So, when do these witch people go dancing and murdering Jericho?” The princess asked and Jericho ran a hand over his face. “Midnight is the traditional time, your High…. Issy.” he said quietly. “Oh good, I do love a show.” She said: smiling. Everyone glanced at each other and finally Jericho manufactured a smile; “Yes, quite.” Was all he could manage. Jericho knew why the princess had been sent: she had the ability to ‘control’ her wayward brother despite not being as ‘strong’ as him. He nearly always listened to her council and she had mediated between her brothers on many previous occasions. [The last one was during the episode: ‘Jericho Tibbs and the tablet of creation.]
Just before midnight, Divij parked the car around the bend from the factory and Jericho cloaked the team, so that the car appeared empty. It paid off; three cars all slowed to look at the little A40 and then drove on. Owen noticed that all the cars contained women apart from the first one, which included two men. He lowered his mirror; “A Sir Robert Pyle, a local magistrate and a Mister John Harding…” He stopped and glanced – nervously - at Alex - who said grimly; “One of the girls is Dawn Jarrad, the waitress we caught fucking old Parks.”
Divij just grunted; “That should be no surprise, now should it.” Jericho watched the convoy disappear and held up a hand; “We’ll give them twenty minutes to settle down and start the show.”
Princess
Isis, sitting with her knees up in the front passenger seat nodded her
agreement. “Yes, quite so Jerry. It would be bad manners to burst in far too
early.” The young princess sat up and
smiled broadly; “My dear brother is at the palace, he’s visiting mum, so he
won’t be showing here.”
Jericho sighed with real relief and was about to call for a knight to deal with Kiri when the princess waved a hand slowly about. “Oh Jerry, don’t bother, I’ve taken care of Kiri and just for your information the vampire fellow is not there.” She seemed to think for a second or two and added; “Sadly, that young woman Elizabeth Cantrell isn’t there. Her body and soul are now gone from your human timeline.” Jericho said, ‘thank you quietly’ and told his team to set their mirrors for stun only. “We’ll go straight in before they can harm their sacrifice. I have an idea what we can do with them and break up this coven.” The team decamped from the car and walked towards the derelict factory. Jericho wasn’t happy about missing the ‘vampire’, but he was really relieved that the Dark Prince wouldn’t be putting in an appearance tonight.
They found the entrance in the boiler house and crept down the ancient stone steps, listening carefully: they could hear a mixture of chanting and singing. They arrived at a carved stone doorway, covered with a black curtain and Jericho peered around it. There were six naked female witches cavorting around a flat raised tomb, which had another naked woman lying prone upon it. He watched as the Warlock – Sir Robert Pyle – resplendent in a huge goat head mask stood at the top of the tomb slab with a small, dark coloured dagger in his right hand and the other hand lifted above his head. He was reciting the ritual for sending a gift to the Dark Prince. The younger man – also naked apart from a dark twisted mask that represented some kind of demon – knelt at his feet sucking the Warlocks cock with some passion! Jericho just sighed; “Come on people; let’s hit them before the local police turn up to raid an illegal drugs party.” The detectives burst from behind the curtain to screaming and panic. It didn’t last long as they quickly sedated everyone with their mirrors. Alex checked the girl on the slab; “She drugged up alright, but apart from that, she’s fine.” Jericho nodded; “We’ll leave her, so she knows what a fucking huge piece of luck she just enjoyed.”
Owen stood over one naked witch, sprawled on the floor and chuckled to himself, gesturing to her with his mirror; “You’ll never guess who the hell this is!” to no-one in particular but Divij peered over his shoulder and almost smiled, saying quietly; “According to Human Records that is Caroline Cantrell [Nee Walker] and why am I not surprised?”
Jericho just grunted, he was running his mirror over the young man who had been sucking the old Warlocks cock and now leaned down, pulling the horrific mask off. He sighed, really disappointed in this finding; “David Chambers. Now this really does surprise me and I wonder how deep this bloody witch’s coven has penetrated the university campus? I wonder what the relationship really is between Caroline Cantrell, him and bloody Reynolds?”
Owen folded his arms and shrugged his shoulders; “The other two women are known to our Intelligence Services; both practicing witches and have been involved in previous ritual murders. But there were four women who arrived for the so called ‘Book Convention’. These two and the victim [gesturing to the woman on the slab] and one other.” He checked his mirror adding; “A certain Mrs. Joyce Johnson, where is she?”
Divij shook his head; he didn’t know but would be [like the others] happy to find out where she was, or rather why she wasn’t here. That’s when they heard the noises coming down the small stone staircase, many heavy boots on stone and lights from torches. Jericho smiled and operated his mirror and everyone vanished. Princess Isis seemed a little disappointed in ‘the show’ but also quickly disappeared before the local police arrived to bust a strangely quiet illegal drug ‘rave’. What they did find made one or two laugh out loud. The dour Inspector just grunted; “Fucking idiots, overdone the drugs didn’t they.” Then the naked woman on the slab woke up screaming. To use an American slang term: she sang like a canary!
Alex sat in the study by the fireplace and read her mirror, speaking to Owen who was sprawled on the sofa, reading ‘Pride & Prejudice’ with a plate of sandwiches. “According to the local papers at the time, the captured coven members were all charged with attempted murder or accessory to murder. The would be sacrifice sang like a canary and implicated everyone. [See, I was right!] I strongly suspect she won’t play at witches again!”
Owen sat back and rubbed his chin: “Do you think our Stella [Temporal Detective Inspector Stella Longstreet] will be able to find out what happened to Lizzie?” Alex shrugged her shoulders; she didn’t know, but the girls soul was now listed as ‘Missing’ and who would dare question the Dark Prince about a lowly human soul gone missing?
“A strange and complicated case for the team: but they managed to clean up a particularly nasty witch’s coven, but they did lose a soul [Lizzie Cantrell] and allow a ‘vampire’ to escape! They didn’t have much choice in that matter with the Dark Prince hanging about. They also closed a time portal and returned a missing soul to their own time, so on the balance of things, the mission was considered a success, but not a great one.”
Reynold Masters graduated in 1952 as an Archaeologist and joined his father in Egypt. He worked there until his tragic and early death in 1961. He was married with one son when his old army jeep turned over on a dirt road outside Luxor. He was seriously injured and flown back to England for treatment. But he died in the November of that year. His soul was collected and processed.
Melvin ‘Mel’ Henley graduated in 1951 and worked for the Civil Service in London. He retired from there in 1979 and opened a bar in Spain with his two daughters. It was a big success with Brit’s who were now enjoying holidays abroad. But Melvin passed away in 1982 from lung cancer – he was a heavy smoker - and his soul was collected and processed.
Barry ‘Baz’ Grimes failed to graduate, having to leave the university after being involved in a ‘sex’ scandal there. He always claimed he was innocent but was found guilty of sexual assault at York Assizes. It ruined his young life and he disappeared from the lives of his family and friends after serving four years of a nine-year sentence. He died in Nevada in spring 1982 from a stroke and his soul was collected and processed. He received a full century in Quarantine for two murders carried out in the late 1960’s. He had turned to crime after immigrating to the USA. The truly sad aspect of his story was that the girls made it all up out of jealousy and rejection. But sadly – as usual, it appears – just the allegation was apparently enough to convict.
Elizabeth ‘Lizzie’ Cantrell disappeared in 1950 and was never seen or heard of again. Her soul – according to Human Records – is listed as ‘Missing’. Temporal Inspector Stella Longstreet is on the case, but there is no resolution yet.
Katherine ‘Kate’ Edwards failed to graduate and left the university to marry a much older man in 1952. She was in early pregnancy, but the child’s father had disappeared, so she married a widowed friend of her father. The marriage lasted ten years and produced three other children: sadly, none by her husband! They divorced in 1962 after he finally became seriously disappointed at her constant infidelity. So Kate moved to Spain And she died there in 1990 and her soul was collected and processed.
George Sykes remained at the hotel until 1958 when sadly, he suffered a major stroke and was placed in a charity hospice. He lingered there until his death in 1961. He had never married and had no family. But a guard of honour from the Marines attended his funeral. His soul was collected and processed.
Harold Parks/Mr. Ferris the time-traveler was returned to his own time by Team 74 and met his ‘dispatch’ [Ordained death] date as scheduled. His soul was now collected and processed. Harold received a century in quarantine for three murders carried out in that time period, including the murder of Miss Daisy Coalman: the witch buried in his grave. The other two murders were a pair of brother’s who had tried to blackmail him over his witchcraft activities back in the 1780’s and 1790’s. He set fire to their modest cottage one night and watched them burn to death.
Sir Sebastian Mooney’s ghost never did haunt the old house. His soul was missing and he had failed to appear for his death [scheduled departure date.] He wasn’t encountered by the team and so it remains lost. It’s not known if had sold it to the ‘Dark Side’ or had gone time travelling and died outside his ordained time. Doc Silas and his team were assigned to the case and discovered that he had – indeed – sold his soul to the ‘Dark Side’ and his missing remains had been nicked by a bloody rival witches Coven!
Earnest Cantrell was struck a double blow at Hammer House this Halloween. His young wife left him for Reynold Masters [that lasted just over a year] and his only daughter apparently disappeared off the face of the earth. He hired numerous private detective agencies to find out what happened to her: with no success. He died a broken man in 1957. His soul was collected and processed.
Sir Edmund Planchet – the ‘vampire’ – evaded capture by the temporal detectives and is now missing. Temporal Operational Intelligence believes he is now hiding in Paris in the late 20th Century. To date, he has not surfaced but remains on the temporal ‘radar’.
Dawn Jarrod, the young waitress caught with Ferris/Parks never did find out what happened to her aged ‘lover’: but she believed he had made off with Lizzie Cantrell. Dawn left the hotel in 1951 and married a soldier. It wasn’t a happy marriage, but she had four children during that turbulent and sometimes, violent marriage. She died in 1964 from complications following a hysterectomy. Her soul was collected and processed.
Caroline Cantrell’s affair with Reynold Master’s ended after her arrest at the Witches’ party in the old crypt. She was sentenced to 15 years in prison for the planned murder of the witches’ victim. She was paroled in autumn 1960 and she moved to Southern France, where she married an American painter. They lived happy until her death in 1972 from Bowel Cancer. She had two children. Human Records confirmed that she was a direct descendant of the murdered witch Daisy Coalman! How she knew her ancestor was buried in Park’s grave remains a mystery [it was indeed her that placed the flowers on the grave] Jericho wanted to look into that but couldn’t get authority to launch such a mission, since it wouldn’t change the outcome of this mission and didn’t actually alter the timeline. Her soul was collected and processed, receiving fifty years in Quarantine for a previous ritual murder. She rejoined the Human Life-Cycle in 2022.
Reverend John Arthur Norbert Walker remained in the parish until his untimely – and somewhat tragic – death in 1964. He choked to death eating fresh salmon at the church ladies dinner, just days before Christmas. Luckily for the reverend, the undertakers were discrete and didn’t mention to his grieving family and parishioners that under his neat trousers and starched shirt, he was wearing stockings and women’s panties! His soul was collected and processed.
SPECIAL APPEARANCES By: Prince David and Princess Isis.
MISSION CONCLUSION:
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| SATISFACTORY |
Copyright © 2011-2025 Stephen Williams. No reproduction of any part without permission.