~ DEATH IS JUST THE BEGINNING ~
 JM Dragon 2003

© 2003 by JM Dragon
Email: jmdragon@jmdragon.net

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Love/Sex:..This story features strongly implied consensual relationship between adult women. If this bothers you, is illegal in the State, Province or Country you live or if you are  under the age of 18, find something else to read. There are loads of general stories out there.

Language:..Some strong language.

Violence:..Some violence in this story.

Hurt/Comfort:..There are scenes of heartache to be dealt with by the characters.

Dedication:..This story could have been my final one, but isn’t. Thank you to all those readers who offered genuine support and continue to read, not only my stories, but others too, we all appreciate your wonderful feedback. This story is simply for you.

Acknowlegement: My beta readers, Alice, Packer and Mel thank you as always, special thanks to T and Ephany for reading over the final draft as a double check.

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Part Nine

The Forest Green public house had cleared out. All but the barmaid, who mopped the floor, cleaned the tables replacing the coasters and shining the polished tops of each surface in readiness for the next day.

“You can leave that now, Mary, I’ll finish up.” Captain Ben smiled at the pretty barmaid. Pity she didn’t like older men, he might have had a chance. She was engaged to that young mechanic Gary and no way did he want to get into any hassle with the six foot, built like a giant haystack, of a man.

“Are you sure, Ben, there’s still plenty to finish off,” surprised at the offer. The old man always made sure he had his money’s worth from his staff and hoped he wasn’t going to deduct leaving the tasks behind from her pay. This was a second source of income helping out the meagre wage her fiancé received from the garage. If they didn’t save up as much as possible, renting their own house was out of the question when they got married. Living in such a small village was hard to get work except on the farms and then not much for women.

“Absolutely! Now be off with you, I’ll see you tomorrow lunchtime.” Winking at her as she dropped the mop by the table nodding her head as she left the area.

Ben Riddle looked around his establishment. It hadn’t changed in centuries at least, the building anyway. He prided himself on running the place as he thought others had in the past, a true old-fashioned inn. Most were updating their places with the new fangled jukeboxes from America. He wouldn’t! What was the world coming too when the youngsters wanted loud music with their pints. It wouldn’t last, he was certain of that. Picking up the mop left by Mary, he skimmed the floor and left the rest of the tables until she came on again in the morning, it was her job after all.

“Are we too late?” A male voice spoke into the deserted bar plagued by shadows. Only the very slightest of light from a small lamp and the moonlight peeping through the half-closed curtains lit the room.

Ben glanced towards the bar area and saw three figures standing in the doorway. Although he couldn’t see them, he knew the voice as he would his own.

“Depends what for, if it’s a drink yes, if it’s anything else…”

A hearty chuckle followed the comment, “when has that ever stopped you from pouring a pint for a friend after hours, Ben?”

“You’ll have me in trouble with the police and we can’t have that, can we?” the old publican walked towards the voices and as he came closer gave them a wide toothless grin.

“Ah yes, the good old bobby on the beat. What a competent officer we have here in the village. Actually, we’ve done pretty good for decades, wouldn’t you say?”

“I’d rather believe that it was our special talents that were superior. In fact, I more than believe that they are!” A second male voice responded, his tone arrogant.

“We didn’t come here to discuss the competence of the police. We have another pressing matter to attend, let’s get on with that, please.” Jenny Gilmore spoke irritated at the banter. She wanted the problem solved so she could return to bed.

“I agree, Jenny. Did you see Mary leave?”

“No, is she still here, it’s almost midnight. Shouldn’t she have gone an hour ago?”

“There was a celebration for Harry’s sixtieth birthday that went on longer than planned. I couldn’t exactly throw him and his crowd out, could I? I’ll check out back. She might still be here and I want no loose ends tonight!” Leaving the three figures alone in the bar as he left the room.

Jenny moved further inside the room. She wasn’t a drinker and abhorred the place, however, it had been here far longer than she had and would be standing long after she left here. Spying the nearest chair that looked at least tolerably comfortable she settled into its old leather backing and watched her comrades, who eyed the bar relishing an intoxicating beverage to settle their nerves. They might look confident, but it had rattled their cage when the meeting had been arranged, especially when they found out why. Their cover hadn’t been blown in the numerous years they had been together, three of them for over forty, the other a little over twenty. Their alliance had been fruitful, although not enough to sway the tide of the war, then being effectively forgotten in this backwater. They had called it early retirement, thankful that they hadn’t been caught as spies.

“Ben will be back shortly, why don’t you both sit and I’ll edify you in on the situation, as I see it.” Jenny waved towards the two wooden chairs opposite her, the men reluctantly sitting as bid. She might not wield the power she did in the old days, but they acknowledged her respectfully nevertheless.

“Go ahead, do you think we’ve finally been found out?” Sam Crossly, the village butcher, asked his tone perplexed.

“No, highly unlikely or the proper authorities would be here now instead of that meddling detective from the city and her silent accomplice.”

“Ah yes, the sober ‘jolly’ giant Bootle. Can’t figure that woman out at all.” Jeff Ransome, the local garage owner, spit out sarcastically. He disliked people who weren’t beautiful; especially women and you couldn’t call Bootle a beauty. She looked more like the back of a horse.

“That’s because she’s not one of the kind you like around you, Jeff. We have obviously misjudged her or her ability to involve herself in something that is long dead.” Sam Crossly replied with a chuckle. He had a lot of time for Charlie. She was a nice lady, okay not a beauty, but old Jeff never saw anyone other than in a purely superficial way. Not surprising he ever married and had a family when everything settled down. Although he had Mavis, who was the best in his eyes and their two daughters the apple of his eye, all he wanted now was to have everything go back to normal and that normal was no more violence, he was past all that now.
 
“Yeah, well look what all that meddling is going to get her into,” sneering at the butcher. The small man had let himself go in recent years and that family of his was bleeding the poor sod dry. He was glad he hadn’t married one of the females from this village or this country come to that, he would have felt like he was betraying his own.

“She’s gone, no sign of her on the premises. Let’s get down to business, shall we. Have you told them what’s happened so far, Jenny?” Ben Riddle spoke decisively. He had been in charge of this secret cell ever since its inception in the early forties.

The war had been going their way and would only be a matter of time before their leader would take this pitiful island. In the time they had infiltrated the village and the deaths of the two women who were causing this particular problem, they had killed at least thirty traitors for the fatherland. After the women, they had killed many more until the last month before their great leader died and the war was lost to them. Their cover hadn’t been blown though; they had been on tenterhooks for at least five years afterwards. They had decided to stay until recalled, which had never happened and, in a strange kind of way, the village had become their home. What was left of Germany hadn’t been a fit place to return to especially in such a fragmented way. He had no wish to crawl to the Russians, British, Americans or French! At least here, there was always a chance someone would remember them, recall them to duty and they could inflict pain where it hurt the most, inside the Country itself.

“Yes, I’ve told it all to them. Ben, they came back to see me after I returned to the house. I think they know more than we thought.” Her voice controlled, but she couldn’t disguise the tremor that passed through it.

“Impossible! If they knew more, we would all be in a jail by now waiting to be interrogated. I think someone is clutching at straws and you, my dear, have alerted them to a possibility that their assumptions might have some foundation.”

“Oh, so it’s all my fault, is it? What I want to know is, why they picked on me and not any of you three?” Jenny spat out outraged at the accusation. She was not in her prime anymore, age taking its toll, but she was sure she hadn’t alerted anyone to anything.

“Look you two, I don’t care who alerted them. What do we do about it now?” Ransome swished back his receding blonde hair, vanity refusing him to acknowledge that he wasn’t as handsome as twenty years before, when he was in his prime.

“He’s got a point, Ben. Jenny, what do we do about it?” Sam asked cautiously. At one time, Jenny had been the person in control. Even though she wasn’t the leader, her association with the Nazi party allowed her to have the final say on many of their missions, particularly the one involving the spy and Millicent Packer.

Giving the waspish woman a nasty look, Ben turned his eyes to the door leading to the stairs where the guest bedrooms were located. “Simple, we do what we were trained for and eliminate any possible leak.”

Sam gasped in shock and was given a sarcastic glance from Jeff Ransome. “Works for me. About time we used our special talents. I know I’m up for the excitement, what about you, Jenny, Sam?”

“Is that the only option we have? A bit drastic after all these years, won’t that bring more attention to us?” Sam doubted the order since there wasn’t the easy cover of war anymore. This was peacetime and a murder or two wouldn’t go unnoticed as it had in the past.

“Typical, Sam, what, have you gone yellow since settling down with a houseful of women?” Jeff taunted the portly man as his sharp glance fell on the old school teacher.

“You got the stomach for it, Jenny? Your old comrades would be highly delighted if you pulled off another mission.”

Jenny thought to say where were their old friends and members of the party that promised so much and had been unable to deliver. They had never baulked at any task no matter how difficult or dangerous. Now, though things were different, Sam was right, in that respect, but they still had to clear up the problem. “Couldn’t we ignore them and it might all go away?”

Ben looked at his old adversary, in their minor power struggles in the old days at any rate. Age had diminished her abilities and perhaps it was time to pension her off completely. “You tried that, remember, it didn’t work. Time to clean up the mess, with no loose ends at all!”

“I’m with you, Ben, when?”

“I knew I could rely on you, Jeff, as always the willing foot soldier. Sam, are you in this to the end?”

“Do I have any choice?” Sam asked his eyes shifting from Jenny to Ben. At one time the power struggle would have been intense, not so now. If he didn’t go along with the other two, that would create a stalemate and knowing Ben and Jeff as he did, that wouldn’t stop them. Barring he and Jenny confessing all to the police, what could they do to stop it? “Yes, I’m in. Is it going to be tonight?”

Jenny placed her head in her hands. This was ridiculous! They were going to be found out surely, they could see that? “Doesn’t my vote carry any sway anymore?”

Seething at the injustices of time and the body’s inability to cope with the passing years. Why had she been left to suffer the agonies of growing old quicker than her male counterparts, it wasn’t fair!

“No, it doesn’t. As far as I’m concerned, we three will clean up the mess and when you get up tomorrow, it will all be over.” Ben dismissed the woman’s remark sarcastically.

“You want me to go home, to bed…now! You don’t want my help at all?”

Ransome sniggered, “help! You’re more of a hindrance, go home to bed, old woman, we men will ensure that no one else comes knocking at your door.”

Pushing herself out of the chair with more strength than she thought possible, she glared at them, all muttering under her breath, as she exited the bar without giving them a second glance.

“That was a bit harsh, wasn’t it?” Sam asked intrigued. Even if Jenny couldn’t contribute, she was always involved. It had been their pact. That way, no one single person was responsible for any of the deaths or treasonous behaviour they executed.

Ben narrowed his eyes the greying bushy brows moved like a rabbit in the undergrowth making him appear twitchy, though he was completely under control of his emotions. Riddle had a mean streak that, in the early days, was a useful tool. Now, it could be their undoing.

“Have you a problem with my decision? Jenny is long in the tooth and cannot be trusted. It’s through her slips of the tongue that we have to do anything at all.”

“Point taken. Aren’t we all a little long in the tooth for this kind of work these days, I know I am.” Sam responded, his smile frozen, as he was pierced by two sets of eyes boring into his normally jolly features.

“Do you want to join Jenny?”

“No! Of course not! I was just…oh forget it. What’s the next move?”

“Pleased to hear that. The next move is, we kill the detective and dispose of her as we have our previous executions. No stupid car accident that brings up out all the dirty laundry years later.”

“Want me to go to her room and take care of it?” Jeff spoke with relish, the prospect making his mouth water. When he’d been assigned to this type of work, it fitted his profile exactly. Having been an abusive, violent womaniser in his early days, they’d only released him from the military prison if he’d agreed to the covert operation. What did he have to lose, it was a brilliant opportunity and one he made sure didn’t backfire. Over the years, there had been the odd girl in the village who hadn’t enjoyed his lovemaking practices. To avoid any problem on home ground, he’d moved his excesses out to the city where people were strangers and no one seemed to care if you took your pick from the less desirable areas. Those women asked for all they got, in his opinion and to his way of thinking, they were still the enemy and always would be.

“How quick can you arrange the disposal, Sam?” Ben turned to the butcher who frowned for a moment then answered.

“Give me an hour then bring her body to the shop. I’ll have everything ready by then.” Sam stood up leaving the two men without another word. Far too much had been said already. Now, he would just do what he’d done in the past and no one would ever know.

“You think he’ll go ahead and do it, Ben?” Jeff stood poised to silently ascend the back stairs to the detective’s guest room when the order came from his superior.

“Too much water under the bridge for him to do anything else. Sam was always efficient in his dealings, I doubt he would let us down now. He has more to lose than the rest of us, if you count that he has a family now.”

“Okay, I guess that’s true enough. Shall I kill the woman now, what’s the room number?” Itching to make a kill. He’d not done so for sometime and loved the feeling of watching his victims die, an adrenaline boost far superior to sex.

“Leave it for now, I’ve given her a sleeping drought. She’ll never wake up it could down a carthorse. I’ll pour you a pint and we can discuss how to take care of Bootle. She’s going to be the fly in the ointment, if we don’t plan that properly.” Walking behind the bar, the old publican pulled a perfect pint for his comrade.

“And Jenny?” Ransome grinned as the dark liquid with a creamy top was placed in front of him. Nothing like decently pulled ale.

“I’ll take care of Jenny. I think it’s called a bonus after all those years of having to change my plans because she didn’t like them.” Pouring himself a shot of whisky he toasted their newest campaign. If only things had been different and Hitler hadn’t buckled under the allies.

“Great! When do you propose we terminate Bootle, did you drug her as well?”

A hearty laugh was answer enough as they toasted another mission.

* * * * *

Charlie had walked home in a daze. All her old insecurities had literally stomped all over her when the detective had offered her a nightcap in her room. It should have been so easy to say yes, have a nightcap then go home. She hadn’t dared. Her feelings for Pru were becoming more and more difficult to handle. She couldn’t exactly say she was in love with her, attracted yes, definitely, love, well no; something didn’t quite fit that romantic scenario, at the moment anyway. Perhaps she’d read too much into the invitation, but the expressive eyes had been devouring her. She knew that look; Milly had often looked at her that way in the early days. Not so the last couple of months of their relationship, putting that down originally to the precarious lifestyle they were living. Always on the edge should anyone find out about their relationship, not to mention the war and their constant separations.

Now, a quarter to midnight, she was tossing and turning in bed unable to sleep! Her mind full of what could have been and she’d been there way too often in the past. Milly’s death for one, her guilt at not having been at the station when her lover came home late that Friday had constantly nagged at her, even though she hadn’t known. Normally, Milly would leave her a message, but not that evening. With the transport system precarious at times, Milly didn’t always make it back until Saturday morning and not at all some weekends if the bombing raids had been particularly atrocious. That, above all, had been the one question she wanted answered, why Milly hadn’t asked to be picked up at the station. If she had, then the chances were she would still be alive. As to if they would be together now, that was a question neither of them could possibly know. When a person dies suddenly, all their faults become lost in a mist, leaving behind only the good points and the need to put the person on a pedestal in as untarnished a position as possible. She’d done a great job of that, probably too good of a job.

Maybe that was why she’d never allowed herself to look for anyone else to love. If it were being offered on a plate to her, she probably wouldn’t see it. Although this feeling she had for Pru seemed to have settled into her blood and each hour in the company of the woman made her want more and more of her time. Perhaps she was lonely and wanted a chance to remember what it was like to spend time with another lover before life totally passed her by. At forty-four, coming back from the brink wasn’t so easy and until she finally let Milly go, both in mind and heart, there was no way she could reach out to another soul for love.

That was it!

Dragging the bedclothes from around her, Charlie clambered out of bed picking up her working clothes. Quickly dragging on her denims and the heavy plaid shirt, buttoning it up as she left the bedroom and entered the small hallway. Shadows sprang from every recess in the area as the moonlight filtered through the small portal window near the door. Ghostly would be a good impression and right now, that was exactly what she wanted, a friendly visit from Violet in the disguise of Pru. All she needed now was Pru. She glanced at the clock on the mantle piece in the lounge, the door partially open as she picked up her coat from the coat peg. It was a couple minutes to midnight. What the heck, she’d have to wake up the inn!

* * * * *

“I believe you require a solution to a problem?” Violet jumped as the person the Custodian had advised was his superior appeared from out of nowhere, virtually seconds after the ‘Angel’ left her side.

“Yes, I told…”

“I’m aware of who you told. Why didn’t you ask me first, that is the proper chain of command?”

“I didn’t know and I wasn’t being sneaky going behind your back, if that’s what you think. I wouldn’t know how. You don’t exactly have the rules and regulations posted on any boards for newcomers, like me, to follow, do you?” Why was it all her fault? All she wanted was the quiet life. Nothing complicated, a nice room with a view would suit her fine.

“Enough! We haven’t much time…you haven’t much time. I, on the other hand, have all the time in the world and more.”

Violet shot the man a puzzled look. Did all the people who frequented this place constantly talk in riddles? “I agree, I haven’t much time, but they won’t place me anywhere. What do I do?”

Pulling at his pointed chin, the senior Custodian narrowed his eyes, “Yes, an unfortunate situation although, as we explained before, you and Millicent Packer are entwined until she returns and accepts her death. A most disconcerting situation and one the Custodian should never have allowed!”

“Hey, look, I know all that, but I was doing…” Violet trailed off. What could she say without involving the Custodian in a difficult predicament?

“Doing?”

Turning her gaze to the floor replying quietly, “I thought maybe you would have changed your mind. Packer will be back in a few hours. The Custodian said that was all the time we had.”

“Oh he did, did he, well he was wrong. Millicent Packer has to ask to be brought back in the correct manner or she remains earthbound in her current state until such time as she finds the correct path.”

“Where does that leave me?”

“Right here waiting until such time as she accepts her death and finds her way back. Quite simple really and not beyond your intellect.” His tone vaguely sarcastic and she was tempted to pop him on the jaw, she felt that out of sorts. Life on earth was far simpler, her mind ruefully acknowledged.
 
“You know, I always thought that when I died, all the red tape would be gone and it would be a simple process. How bloody wrong can you get! There’s more red tape here than getting an audience with the King.”

“Be that as it may, I suggest you meditate and wait for your partner to accept her fate.” The senior Custodian was about to leave, however not before Violet placed a restraining hand on his crimson robed arm.

“Can I go back and bring her here? She’ll listen to me and then we would both be settled and out of your hair.”

“Listen to you? I think not! Her attitude to you earlier would not signify such trust. If you return, you and she will have to work out the answer to getting back here on your own. I cannot provide you with the answer to the correct path. You have used up all your chances, as far as I’m concerned. You will be on your own. Is that what you want?”

For a split second Violet wondered if meditating for a few centuries wouldn’t be a bad thing, “Yes, it’s exactly what I want.”

“So be it.” As the senior Custodian disappeared from her sight, she felt as she had on the earlier journeys. Total disorientation as the blackness appeared and she could feel herself falling into a deep abyss. Her last thought a private prayer, please God, not too much further into the future.

* * * * *

 
Milly was certain she’d fallen asleep since the moon appeared to be in a different position, than the last time she’d glanced at it. Neither she nor Violet had ever wanted to sleep since arriving back on earth. Nor a few of the normal day to day things you never think about like eating, changing clothes, bathing and most of all, the trip to the bathroom for the usual bodily functions. They did appear to have all their memories in tact and could still feel emotion though not physically, that was all a thing of the past.

She stretched her arms above her head, not because she had aching muscles, just merely an old habit that was going to be hard to give up. It had often been her way of coming away from a problem at work and trying to gather her thoughts. Her muscles would spasm from time to time when she was huddled in her small area of the office poring over her secret papers.  Her one regret in that area had been that she never found out how significant her discovery that evening had been. Fortunately, she had noted everything for her supervisor. She was sure the woman would have carried on with her breakthrough; she was able in many ways, which didn’t just mean the office. Removing the torrid thought, she tried to wrack her brains to remember her final discovery. It was like dredging up a long forgotten memory when it had been mere days, in her calendar, since she had actually undertaken the task.

Hmm, yes, I recall it now. Something about a spy ring inside England. That hadn’t been significant at first because everyone knew that the German’s had infiltrated the Country as they had theirs. This had been different, but why was that…her thoughts hummed away trying desperately to remember every word she’d captured from the code.

Before she could picture her last transcript, her body was jolted back against the tree as an excruciating pain past through her. Damn! Weren’t they supposed to be immune from pain? Her eyes closed in reaction to the onslaught then it was miraculously gone!

“What the hell!”

“Packer! My, you haven’t changed a bit since I’ve been gone.” Violet grinned impishly as she stood over the taller woman who had sunk to the ground with the painful sensation.

“You! You caused me that pain, how?” Milly glared at the smaller woman. Her eyes reflecting the agony she had experienced for a few short moments.

“Hate to upset you, but it is me! And what pain, we can’t feel anything on this side, can we?” Violet inwardly chuckled. There was something deliciously appealing about having Packer at her feet.

Wrenching a hand through the tumble of her hair, Milly stood up glaring at the spy. Her first instinct was to shake her until her teeth rattled, but at the same time, hug her for coming back…a real mix of emotions clambered inside. As she fought the battle, her lips gradually pulled into a smile, “Seems you can hurt me if you pop in like that. Where have you been, I’ve looked for you everywhere?”

“Have you really, why that’s nice.” Grinning even wider at the admission from her usually dour partner in death.

“Nice is hardly the word I’d call it. Just where did you go? It’s late, we don’t have long left to discover what’s going on, but I do know a few things and we need to act quickly.”

“Mine’s a long story in a short space of time and we do have time.” Packer didn’t know that the ultimatum to leave in the morning was now a thing of the past. They could be stuck here longer than even they wanted.

“No we don’t!” Milly paced. Why couldn’t Violet, just for once, let her be right, did she always have to have the last word?

“Yes we do. We don’t have to go back in the morning, see we do have time.” Violet refused to be talked down to by Packer. For once couldn’t she just let her speak freely and leave it at that? No, she always wanted the last word.

“If we don’t act fast, we’ll be seeing Charlie and the detective in the same position we are in.”

“What! Why didn’t you say that, we’ve been wasting time arguing over nothing again? Tell me what’s going on as we track them down,” exasperation, the order of the day with Violet. If it wasn’t up there, it was down here with Packer and they had to be a team. Some winning team they would be if they dropped the ball and it was lost forever.

“God give me strength!” Milly breathed out. She informed the small woman of all that had transpired in the barn and where it was all heading. Included in her revelations were the other mystery party members involved.

“Captain Riddle! Ben Riddle is the power behind all this. He’s an old man for goodness sake, are you sure?”

“As sure as I am that you will continue to argue with me every time we have a discussion.”

“Oh…that, sure.” Violet’s eyes lifted upwards. Maybe she should have stayed up there. What if her interference now caused the other two women to be murdered also? That would be hard to live with in any shape or form.

“Yes, now come on. I’ve been waiting for you to get here for ages, together we might be able to stop them.” Milly strode ahead as Violet stopped in her tracks at the last comment. A glow replaced the feeling of guilt that had previously been beating her up. Packer actually said she’d been waiting for her. Maybe they did make a good team after all.

Quickly increasing her short stride to catch up with her taller companion, Violet placed a hand on Packer’s arm to stop her rapid pace for a few moments, “Thanks.”

Puzzled at the gratitude in both the word and tone, “For what?”

“Waiting for me, of course.”

Smiling indulgently as she would have at a child, “No problem, come on, let’s go to the pub first and check out the detective.”

Violet was surprised, responding immediately, “Not Charlie first?”

“No. It’s going to happen tonight and Riddle runs the pub. The detective is a guest there, remember, I call that easy pickings unless she’s warned.”

“How are we going to do that, may I ask?” Milly grinned tapping a secretive finger to her nose.

“Oh, we aren’t…you are!” Winking as she saw the look of shock cross the ex-spy’s face.

“I am?” Violet chocked out unable to comprehend the message relayed.

“Yes, you did it once before. You have to do it again, but now it’s more important than ever.”

“Don’t we need Charlie as well?” Milly knew that went hand in glove with Charlie being around, but she’d work on that.

“Yes, but let’s take one step at a time and keep Pru safe.” Violet let a small smile of satisfaction pass her lips Pru now was it? Well, that was a sure sign Packer was coming around to her fate. Maybe there was hope they could return up there after all, she would explain all that to her sleuthing partner later.

“I’m right with you on that.”

 * * * * *

Charlie was half way to the Forest Green and was surprised when a female voice shouted to her from across the street.

“Hey there, Charlie, what are you doing out this late in the evening, one of those farm critters giving you a hard time?” Mary, the barmaid from the Pub where she was heading, cheerily asked.

“I couldn’t sleep, thought I’d take a walk. What are you doing out so late yourself?” If the pub hadn’t closed until late maybe Pru was still awake, there was a chance.

“Oh, Harry’s sixtieth and you know what happens when they get together. Ben let them stay as a private party a little later than normal, must be the night for people not sleeping.” Mary rummaged in her handbag for her door key. Her parents wouldn’t be too happy if she woke them up at this hour, a few minutes after midnight.

Curious at the remark, Charlie asked what she meant.

“I saw Sam Crossly, Jeff Ransome and would you believe, Miss Gilmore, all going into the pub a few minutes ago. How strange is that, do you think? Sam and Ransome, sure, I can cope with that, but Gilmore! Heck, that’s pushing the imagination somewhat. Anyway, I’d better go or the folks will wake and I’ll be in trouble.”
 
“See you later, Mary, sleep well.” She watched as the young woman entered the house with a wave of her hand.

Thoughts churning like mad Charlie did the only thing she could, she ran like a bat out of hell towards the side door of the pub. If Jenny Gilmore was in the party, something was going down and that something spelt trouble with a capital T.

Her breathing was ragged as she hit the side door, almost colliding into it in her enthusiasm to get to Pru and speak with her, mostly to make sure she was safe. If anything happened to her…it was way too scary to think about. Positive thoughts, Charlie, that’s all you, can do now.

She took in a deep gulp of air that would make anyone think she was about to submerge herself in water, as she tried the back entrance door praying that it would open. A faint click, the release of the locking mechanism and the door opening with a creak, answered her prayers.

Summoning her courage to face whatever might greet her, Charlie walked inside. The numerous beer barrels were the only occupants of the long stone hallway. She had never been to this side of the building and wasn’t sure if there was another way to the stairs that led to the guest bedrooms. If there wasn’t, that meant going through the main bar, potentially where the others were doing their plotting.

Trying her best to be as quiet as possible, which wasn’t easy in this narrow lobby, her bulk and the large beer barrels, proving interesting obstacles on her way to her goal. Muttering under her breath, “Why did I have to be endowed with such large breasts? They do nothing but get in the way!” She pulled and pushed herself through a very small gap, which she thought only a sparrow could get through or maybe Pru, allowing herself a smile as she thought of the detective.

Voices could be heard from the direction of the bar. Charlie froze on the spot and waited a few minutes to try and hear what was being said. However, the sounds just got louder and louder especially when the female talked and that could only be Jenny Gilmore.

Then she heard someone leave and the voices continued. Time, she felt, wasn’t on her side; she needed to get to Pru now! Clambering over the final crate of ale, she scanned the small entryway. One door obviously led to the bar as the voices emanated from that direction. To her left were two doorways and her immediate right one she surmised to be the lounge. Decision time, which one did she try? A fifty, fifty chance. Closing her eyes briefly, she held out her hand and walked forward hitting the furthest left doorway. Trying the handle it opened easily.

Trying desperately to make no noise, which was virtually impossible in such an old building as the stairs, creaked ominously. Managing to get to the top of the steps she looked around. This was Riddle’s part of the building, his home. Damn, she’d made a poor choice. Oh well, there was only one-way to go. Back down the stairs and to the other doorway. Turning at a cramped angle, she felt a muscle in her lower back spasm causing a spell of agonizing pain as she swivelled around. She bit down on her lower lip until she felt that sensation and the taste of salt as traces of blood touched her tongue overrode the throbbing in her back, preventing her from crying out. That’s all she needed…back trouble! Last time she did that, she ended up laid out flat on her back on the hard floor of her bedroom for three weeks, doctor’s orders.

Schooling her face to block out the pain, she negotiated the stairs hoping that no one had left the bar and she would be safe to try the other stairway. As soon as she closed the door behind her she tried the other, which also opened easily. This time the creak was muted, thank goodness for that. Looking up towards the top of the stairs she hoped this was it, these old buildings could be like rabbit warrens.

Managing to make the top silently, her face contorted by the pain in her back, what a time to chose to let her down. Her features cleared slightly as she realised that this was the guest area, now what was the number of Pru’s room? The detective had mentioned it briefly when they had talked that first time here.

Charlie leaned against the wall wanting to sink to the floor and laying there until the pain in her back diminished. Summoning up her remaining strength she began moving forward towards room three. She was sure that was the number Pru had mentioned yesterday.

Here goes nothing, knocking on the door softly at first. When there was no answer, she rapped louder. If the woman didn’t wake up, she might alert the people in the bar. Sounds travelled when you least expected or wanted them to, especially at night.

Once more she rapped her knuckles against the dark oak door, silently wishing Pru to hear her.

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Continued In Part 10