Special Circumstances - 13. The Night

This weekend would be the one.

This weekend, the minister and I would try to prevent a murder. Following my usual routine, I drove on my motorbike to my duty station, changed, and checked out my weapons. Instead of taking the tube to the Home Office building, I checked out the unmarked car I’d booked. Inspector Boswell had reluctantly approved its use over the weekend.

I joined the dense London traffic. It took me quite a while to reach the Home Office building. I drove to its garage entrance to be checked. Once allowed in, I had to find a parking space. Why did they make these damn spaces so minuscule?

In the end, I found a space where I managed to open the door halfway and climb out. I felt grateful for the flexibility of my motorbike.

Using the spare key I had to Morris-Walker's car, I moved his luggage next to mine in my car. Once I ‘d finished preparations, I took the elevator up to the floor where the minister had his office.

Melanie was reasonably busy, but she always seemed pleased when she saw me.

“Jamie!” She beamed at me. “I’m always looking forward to seeing you here.”

“Oh, really?”

“Your appearance tells me two things. First, I can go home and secondly, it’s Friday evening. So, you’re most welcome!”

I stuck my tongue out at her. “I’m nothing but a diary event for you. I love you, too.”

She laughed and did the same.

“Well, I’m always looking forward to hearing what’s new in this madhouse.” I half sat on the edge of her desk.

“Oh, you wouldn’t believe it! One can’t make it up.” She started enthusiastically and told some new stories about who was doing what with whom and what everybody else thought about it.

I wondered about characters like Melanie and Nam. They could talk and talk and talk and still seem interested. I didn’t like smalltalk. The problem was that when standing at a coffee machine, we British feel compelled to say something. Anything, in fact. And so, people might tell about their kid’s friend’s dog’s broken leg. Honestly, I couldn’t care less. However, societal norms stated one had to feign interest and worse, one had to remember, because next time one was to meet the storyteller, one was duty bound to inquire about the dog’s well-being. There were people who relished this. Melanie was one of them, as was Nam. I wasn’t.

At that point, I had the idea of introducing Melanie to Nam.

What could go wrong? “Melanie, we’ve spoken about I’d look out for a guy for you.”

She was surprised. “Wow, you remember?”

“How could I forget?” I winked.

She blushed.

“The guy I have in mind is maybe not quite your usual guy.”

“How so?”

“First, he’s more wiry than brawny.”

She laughed. “Oh Jamie, I know that’s a fancy dream. Yes, you’re quite muscular, but in all honesty, if it wasn’t his job, a guy looking like you would spend all his time in a gym instead of with me.”

I snickered. “I admit spending a lot of time there. Second, he’s of Vietnamese descent. Would that be an issue?”

“I’ve never had a non-Caucasian boyfriend,” she mused and then exclaimed. “If you think he’s suitable, then I’ll meet him.”

“Nam is my best friend. He’s also a copper.”

“Sounds interesting,” she said, and she grinned broadly. “We could talk about you in detail!”

“The problem is that he’d do that in a heartbeat.” I got up from my place at her desk and turned away. “Gosh, what have I done to deserve two of you?”

She laughed. “You really think we could fit?”

I stood in front of her desk. “You two are so alike. People who just can’t shut up.”

“Well, I can shut you up,” she said mischievously.

“Oh?”

She pulled open a drawer and took out a folder. “The minister would like you to read this.”

“What’s that?”

“No idea. I might talk to people, and know a lot, but I don’t read any documents I’m not explicitly told to work on. The only way to stay sane around here.”

I took the folder and nodded. I walked over to the visitors chairs and made myself comfortable. The folder contained the detailed crime reports on the three victims of interest. I started reading and making mental notes.

A while later, Morris-Walker arrived at his office, and I got up to greet him.

He stuck out his hand. “Good afternoon, Jamie. I hope all is well with you.”

I shook the offered hand. “Yes, it is. Thank you, Minister.”

“Give me half an hour, and we will be on our way.”

“Certainly, sir.”

I gave the folder to Melanie who locked it away. I then returned to the visitors chair and caught up on Social Media. Most importantly, I messaged Nam I’d found a blind date for him and that he needed to choose a free evening for it. I didn’t have to wait long for an answer.

Within minutes I was busy organising a dinner date for Melanie and Nam in the restaurant where Mike worked. I’d just received confirmation from the place and notified the people about the confirmation when the minister’s office door opened, and he came out.

“Good bye, Miss Carter,” he said and walked out.

I got up from the chair and followed suit.

“Good bye, Minister, Jamie.”

“Bye, Melanie. Good luck,” I replied and quickly followed after the minister.

We took the elevator into the underground garage and walked in the direction of his car.

I stopped by my black BMW. “This time, Minister, we take this car.”

“I admit it is sporty, Jamie, but what is wrong with my car?”

“Yours doesn’t have a safe in which I can store my weapons, Minister. This one does. At your place, I can at least somehow justify my room is safe when I sleep on them, but in a hotel in the middle of nowhere? No chance.”

He sighed. “Well, my luggage is in the Rover.”

“Already taken care of, Minister.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Let me get the car out,” I said and climbed in.

I drove it out of the parking space and then got out to open the rear door for him. I made a slight bow to bid him to enter.

He looked at me with suspicion. “What happened?”

“Excellent speech, Minister.”

He smiled. “I am glad you liked it.” He got into the car. “Thank you, Jamie.”

I closed his door. “Don’t get used to it.”

I opened the boot and stored my machine pistol in the safe. Then I got into the car, and we left London for the Midlands. As usual, he made some phone calls and did some paperwork, but he didn’t converse with me about what we were about to do on this journey. For the first half of the drive, I accepted that, but then I grew restless.

“Minister, shouldn’t we talk about what’s going to happen?”

He looked at me through the rearview mirror. “Tonight, not much, I assume. You will drive us to the hotel, we can settle in our rooms, and I will meet the local party dignitaries for dinner.”

“Minister, I know the official plan. Dinner at the hotel tonight, visit to the market town of Windermere tomorrow, and Sunday drive back. I had to memorise the roads and layouts. You know what I mean.”

“Oh yes, Jamie, of course, I do. Full moon is tomorrow, not tonight.”

Didn’t he want to understand me? “Okay, but right now is the only guaranteed alone time we have, Minister. We should make the best of it.”

“Jamie, are you hitting on me?”

What? I looked into the rearview mirror. He was smiling. It seemed he had some humour after all.

I chuckled. “I’m sorry, unfortunate wording.”

Morris-Walker became serious. “As I said, tonight will be local party affairs. Tomorrow afternoon, after I have been to Windermere, we will have time to search.”

Was he really not getting my point? “What are we looking for, Minister?”

“I have worked further with the map and calculated an area in which the event will most likely happen. Then, it is down to thinking like a criminal.” He worked on his phone, and I got a message. “I have sent it to you.”

“I’ve read the reports on the victims, Minister. As you said, there really is no pattern. I would’ve guessed the location of the murder needed to be very far away from anybody or sound proof, but no. One was found in a flat of all places, one in an abandoned factory, and one in the middle of a business park. It was confirmed they were killed in the places in which they were found. Also, the method of the killing is not identical, strangulation, disembowelment, and wrist cutting. Therefore, there doesn’t seem to be a requirement for silence.”

“I am ashamed to admit I have no idea, Jamie. We will come up with something.”

“Okay, then we should talk about what we do when we find them. What then?”

“I have prepared six different basic press releases which I can adjust accordingly. The main problem is finding a reason for me being there in the first place.”

I was baffled, but Morris-Walker was correct. Whatever was about to happen, there had to be a believable story behind it. How cold and calculating. There was a life at stake after all.

We arrived at the country hotel in good time. The minister was shown to his room while a staff member followed with his luggage. I checked the room, and while I didn’t like its exposure with windows in two aspects, that couldn’t be helped. Because I was the only Protection Officer and I had to stay close, I got the suite adjacent to his.

While he was settling in, I dropped my bag in my room and started to make myself familiar with the grounds. I looked into all guest rooms, except those which had guests, as well as the service areas despite slight protests by the staff.

In the evening, Morris-Walker had dinner with the local Conservative party cronies. I knew the routine by then, looking grim and important to impress people. However, he held a speech for which I left the room. I’d had enough conservative exposure for one day. I’d rather check the premises again.

By ten, the majority of guests had gone, leaving only the most adamant seeking time with the minister. I was given a plate of food which I wolfed down. By half past eleven, the last guests had finally left, and the minister retired to his room. I stayed up till about one to make sure there weren’t any unexpected visitors. Once convinced that was the case, I went to bed myself.

In the morning, I had a quick shower and checked the premises again. Upon seeing my car was untouched, I went to have a quick breakfast and a protein shake before the other guests came in. The morning staff was preparing breakfast.

Tonight would be the full moon, the night of the ritual murder. We still had no idea where it would take place, and that gnawed at me. I awaited the minister at the bottom of the stairs. Absolutely on time, Morris-Walker came down for breakfast.

“Good morning, Jamie.”

“Good morning, Minister.” I shook the outstretched hand.

In contrast to me, he was in a good mood. We walked to the table reserved for him. I took my place by the entrance so I was able to see the room he was in, the patio outside, and the adjacent main dining hall. The waitress took his order and threw uneasy glances at me whenever she passed by. Maybe I did look grim.

His food was served, but instead of digging in, he asked, “Jamie, are you nervous?”

I hadn’t expected that question. “Why are you asking, Minister?”

“You seem, for the lack of a better word, unsettled.”

How did he notice? I hadn’t moved or behaved any different as far as I was aware. “It’ll be an interesting day.”

“Indeed, Jamie, indeed.” He sipped his tea.

After breakfast, we headed out to the small market town of Windermere which was nearby. The town had converted a sizeable portion of the central market square into a car park. There stood a group of older, well clad people. It had to be the group of the local Conservative Party. I drove the black BMW to them and parked at the central space which they had so kindly reserved. I got out, nodded to the assembled crowd, and opened the car door for the minister.

The intelligence on the market was spot on. Most of the stalls were regular sellers and the community used the market, so it was quite busy. The local party leaders were flogging around my principal, the official term for person under close protection, like flies around a dung heap. He was ushered around while I stayed in the background, taking the machine pistol out of the safe.

A voice sounded from the right of me. “You’re Met, aren’t you?”

I turned to the speaker, a police sergeant in his late fifties accompanied by two young constables about my age. The man looked as if he’d stepped out of a police yearbook from the Victorian age. He sported a big mustache and a clearly discernible attitude. All three were wearing custodian helmets which were as iconic as they were annoying, and their uniforms were meticulous.

“Yes, sir. I’m from the Metropolitan Police, Specialist Protection Command.”

“I haven’t been informed about your visit. I had to learn about the minister’s coming here today from the local paper.”

I could see the man was angry. He was the local neighborhood sergeant, and the fact there was something official, with security implications happening on in his turf, and he hadn’t been informed, must’ve insulted him deeply.

Time to calm the waters. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t know why you haven’t been told anything. I’m just part of the protection detail.”

He didn’t want to hear any of that. “You don’t put much emphasis on discipline in the Met, do you?”

“I’m sorry, sir. I really can’t tell ...“, I said but was interrupted.

“I’m talking about you, Constable. How do you represent the force in which you serve?”

What was he on about? “I’m sorry?”

“Where’s your cap, Constable? When have you last had a haircut?”

Really? “Sergeant, let’s all stay calm, okay? I understand you’re annoyed by not being told about this visit. I’m just doing my job here, even without a cap.”

I smiled at him. It seemed to placate him.

“All these mad Londoners,” he muttered as he turned to leave.

I had a hunch. “It sounds as if there were other Londoners around, is that right, sir?”

“Just this morning, we had a nuisance complaint about a camper van. An old geezer and five young guys camping down by the river. Ridiculously clothed. The five young ones were around the old one like puppies. He just needed to flick a finger and they were jumping. That was a hire van from London. Must’ve been some of them gay people.”

One of his constables moved the corner of his mouth ever so slightly.

I sought the sergeant’s eyes. “My boyfriend and I’ll come up here for a weekend. It’s a nice place.”

The constable brightened up ever so slightly. The other was neutral to the discussion, but the sergeant was genuinely surprised.

“I wouldn’t have thought. You’re one of them gays? A guy like you? How long have you … you know?”

He didn’t seem malicious, just very set in his ways. Like my dad.

I smiled at him. “All my life, sir. Regardless of what they tell you, it isn’t a choice. Do you choose to find women attractive or do you just … do?”

“Hm, well.”

He turned once more to leave. His crew followed, but not before the one Constable threw me a glance. I winked. He blushed. How cute.

The neighbourhood officers mingled among the crowd, but the one young Constable found his way back to me. Glancing around, he asked, “You’re really gay? That wasn’t a joke to piss off the sarge?”

“Yes, I am.” I picked up my private phone and showed him the background picture, a nice shot of Mike in the kitchen at work. “My boyfriend.”

He smiled and gave me his force business card. “In case you and your boyfriend need a place to bunk up here.”

I nodded my thanks, and he left quickly.

A long while later, the public part of the visit came to a close. To me, it seemed as if Morris-Walker had visited every single stall and talked to each merchant. The minister and the local dignitaries retired to a nearby pub. That meant for me standing prominently behind him and looking grim.

Apparently, having me around had made an impression. Looking at the group assembled around Morris-Walker, I wondered what he got out of being a politician. For me, the effort of pleasing people with unreasonable and often contradictory demands stood in stark contrast to any potential rewards.

Today was the second most boring duty of my career. It was only topped by a concert I had to police when I was a newbie. I’d made the mistake of volunteering to police special events. Because the concert had its own security, the police work was reduced to walking around and looking important. It’d been so boring. Because a tube station was just opposite the location, nobody had asked for directions either. That evening had taught me why one should never volunteer for anything.

The minister returned to the car saying his good-byes to the locals while I stowed away the machine pistol. I did him a favour and opened the door of the car for him. With the official visit to Windermere being over, I drove out of the market town. Morris-Walker was mostly on the phone, so there was no opportunity to tell him about my thoughts concerning the campers potentially being connected.

I drove towards the little river next to the town and followed a road alongside it, but I couldn’t find a parked camper van let alone any campers. At the bottom of the road, before it turned away from the river, there was a small car park. I drove onto it and parked. I then turned back to the minister.

He was on the phone listening to someone talking, deliberately ignoring me. Getting the hint, I took my own phone to check again the marked area on the picture of the map. There wasn’t a single building indicated in the marked area, only fields and a tiny forest. There were only two roads crossing the area, both running east and west.

I looked out. Just when I thought the weather was about to get worse, it started raining. I set out again. It was time to check both of these roads and the area. I would’ve liked Morris-Walker to also look outside, but I doubted the guy was capable of spotting anything unusual even if it was signposted.

It seemed to me as if time was crawling. Yes, I was anxious for something to happen or something to be seen. Anything in fact. Knowing a person was about to lose their life and we were the only ones being able to prevent it, weighted heavily on me.

“You are nervously awaiting things to happen,” Morris-Walker suddenly said.

“Yes. It’s that obvious?”

“I am sorry, Jamie. It is still ten hours till things will start to happen.”

That didn’t sound right. “Ten?”

“The victim must die at around ten past one.”

“I thought at midnight.”

He sighed. “Summer time, Jamie, summer time. One o’clock summer time is midnight winter time or true time. Ten past, because our midnight is not exactly the true high point of the moon.”

Why did I always feel dumb in the man’s presence?

I drove back to the hotel. There was no sense in driving around aimlessly. I tried to get some sleep, but to no avail. Morris-Walker invited me to a small dinner, but I couldn’t sit and eat with the thought of somebody having been abducted to die looming in my head.

We made a move by half past eight for cover story reasons. First, I drove to fill up the car to then again drive up and down those country lanes. Time crept slowly. I don’t know how often I drove these roads.

After midnight even the minister started to get fidgety. Both of us were staring out of the car into the darkness. The wind had picked up. I drank my protein shake. There wasn’t anything else to do.

At one point in time, I had enough. “For fucks sake! That we exactly know what’s going to happen and we can’t do anything but wait is driving me crazy!”

“It will be okay, Jamie,” Morris-Walker said in an unexpectedly soothing tone.

I just nodded. The car’s clock showed zero forty-three. Back on the road, I stopped in different places to determine whether the wind was stronger in one place than in another, but there was no hint of any difference. There was no traffic, no parked cars and nobody to be seen in the fields or on the road.

It was nearly time, and we still had no idea where the murder would take place. I enhanced my night vision by concentrating on the flow of energy into my eyes. I took a curve in the country road and saw something odd in the headlights. I made a full stop.

“Minister, over there!”

“What?” Of course, he couldn’t see as well as I did, but he should’ve been able to see what was in the headlights.

“The cows, Minister!” I pointed at the animals.

“What about the cows?” He asked, irritated.

“There’s a barn on the hill but they’re all here at the gate.”

“Jamie, I am not a farmer. What is so strange about some cows in a field in the countryside?”

“It’s night, and it’s stormy. They aren’t in the barn, Minister. Why?”

“Ah. Well spotted, Jamie.”

I parked off the road so that other road users wouldn’t immediately drive into our car. We got out. The wind had picked up and was quite stormy now. It hadn’t been as bad earlier. I gave Morris-Walker the torch from my utility belt and crossed the road to the field’s gate.

The wind was strong and unrelenting. Unnatural for Britain.

The cows had congregated around the gate. I didn’t know anything about animal husbandry, but even I could determine these ladies were sticking together. They weren’t panicking, there was no mooing or much movement, but it seemed as if they waited for somebody to open the gate. Not that I would’ve done that.

I climbed the gate.

“I am not climbing that, Jamie.”

“Aren’t you curious, Minister?”

He looked first up at me, then at the cows. Muttering something under his breath, he started climbing. I was only barely able to contain my laughter at the sight of the minister in his fine business suit climbing over the gate into the herd of cows.

“Damnation! My shoes. Move, you bovine!”

I hoped he didn’t see my expression. I barely suppressed my laughter as I climbed down the gate and came to stand next to him. Together, we were able to get the cows to move enough to allow us passage. We’d just left them behind when three lightning bolts hit the barn in quick succession.

“Quick, Jamie! It is the right place, and it is happening!”

I concentrated to let energy flow into my muscles, and time seemed to slow around me. I ran towards the barn when four big figures rose from the ground to block my path. They suddenly stood in front of me, four more or less identical, huge, naked men.

Two went for my arms and only because I was faster than them, was I able to evade the attack. I was instinctively aware of the arm which wanted to grab me by the throat. I moved aside. Their arms were all around me.

I drew the combat knife from my boot. Time to dance.

Looking at them, I couldn’t discern any difference in the faces. It was as if they were identical copies. It was eerie. No, they weren’t human.

I attacked the one closest to me. I drove the knife straight into his throat and closed my eyes. The flash of light came, and it was still intense. I changed my position in case the others were as blinded by the light as I was, they’d lose track of me. I had to blink to get my vision back.

The attack on me barely registered. The fist was coming towards me, but I evaded it and cut deep into the arm. An unearthly howl escaped from the creature. The other two had positioned themselves so I was now surrounded. Both came at me at the same time. I was able to cut one of them and avoid the other, escaping the circle.

I drove the knife deep into the back of the one to the left of me. I closed my eyes, but the flash did not come. Instead, one of them grabbed me by the throat. To free my knife, I kicked my previous target.

Feeling the choke, I stabbed at the arm holding me like mad. There was no blood, but suddenly I was free. I closed in and drove the knife into my attacker’s throat. This time, the flash came and blinded me.

A fist hit me in hard in the chest. I loved my new ballistic vest at that moment, because it was thicker than my old stab vest and took the punch easier. I was proud of myself, because I kept control and moved away quickly to get some ground. The two remaining entities stood and didn’t pursue. I wanted to charge them, but before I could do so, I heard the minister’s scream from behind me.

Another of these creatures had grabbed him. Where did that one come from? Annoyed, I charged his assailant and jumped up to the huge naked man to drive the knife into him where the skull met the throat. This time, I closed my eyes. I landed on my feet and turned around. The creature was gone, and Morris-Walker was kneeling on the ground.

“Stop them,” the minister croaked.

I ran back up the small hill towards the barn, facing the two final huge man-shaped entities. I attacked the left one, hitting the huge torso four times with deep cuts. The right one lurched at me and was able to grab my knife arm spinning me around, directly into his fist which connected hard with my stomach.

I thought I’d seen a familiar flash, but it could equally just have been the effect of the hit which drove the air out of my lungs. This time, I wasn’t able to keep my concentration. In my panic, I aimlessly hacked at the arms in front of me. Luckily, I hadn’t dropped the knife.

I tried to get some distance, but I got hit on the back of my head, and the world turned black.