BLOOD MOON

Author’s note: This will be the last update for three and a half weeks. I will be on holiday for that time, and won’t have access to a computer, or the Internet. I will, however, have access to pens and notebooks, so hopefully when I return (and clear the deluge of work left for me by those who are supposed to be filling in for me) I will have at least two or three new chapters ready to be typed up and posted. Maybe even a completely new story or two…

Criminal Investigation Department
Denton

Detective Inspector William Edward Frost, better known as Jack to his friends and enemies alike, stepped through the door of his office and collapsed into his chair. Hepressed his hands over his face and groaned softly. He had just returned from the morgue, after viewing yet another body that had been found dumped on the outskirts of the Denton area. It was the fourth such victim, and the worst one to date. The body had been horribly abused, peppered with puncture wounds of various sizes.

Worst of all had been the expression of terror on the victim’s face. As well as dying in agony, the poor bastard had also died in a state of absolute, complete terror. No one deserved such a shocking fate. No one.

“Jack?”

Jack looked up slowly as one of his subordinates, Detective Sergeant George Toolan looked in.

“What is it, George?”

“Thought I’d better warn you. Mullett wants you in his office. I think it’s about these killings.”

Jack bit back the urge to groan. Whenever Mullett wanted to see him, it was usually to try and threaten and bully him into doing a better – read, more ‘efficient’ job. In other words, solve the crime quickly, and spend as little of department funds as possible. Something that was next to impossible to achieve when they had what looked like a serial killer on the loose.

“Did you hear me, Jack?”

“All right, George,” Jack snapped. “Yes, I heard you. I’m not deaf. I’m going, all right?”

George, a tall, gangly officer and one of Jack’s long-standing friends, smiled sympathetically as the gruff inspector pushed past him and stomped away down the corridor.

“Good luck, Guv. You’re going to need it this time.”

Jack headed along the hallway towards the Superintendent’s office, seriously contemplating the wisdom of doing a disappearing act out of the office. As much as he wanted to, though, he knew Mullett would have his head if he did. Resigning himself to the anticipated lecture, Jack rapped on Mullett’s door and went in.

Superintendent Norman Mullett looked up from his desk as Jack walked in, and offered the Inspector a smile. Jack immediately felt his guards go up. Mullett was a consummate politician and ass-licker, and only ever smiled when he wanted something.

“You wanted to see me, Sir?” he asked, trying to keep his tone as casual as possible.

“Yes, Jack. Have a seat.”

Alarms started ringing faintly in Jack’s ears. Something major was up for Mullett to be offering him a seat.

“Actually, Sir, I think I’d prefer to stand…”

“Sit down, Jack,” Mullett insisted. “I don’t think you want to be standing for this.”

Jack sat down. The alarms were ringing full strength now.

“What is it?”

“I’ve been contacted by my superiors. As you might have guessed, they’re quite concerned about this string of murders, and they’d like us to solve it as quickly as possible.”

It was all Jack could do to keep from rolling his eyes. Though he dared not say it aloud, when Mullett said ‘we’, he of course meant Jack alone.

“We are doing the best we can with the resources we have,” Jack said testily. “We’re spread thin enough as it is. We need more people.”

The argument was pointless. Mullett had never approved extra man-power for any case. He was far too budget-conscious.

“Well,” Mullett said, “in that case, it seems your prayers have been answered.”

Jack blinked, not sure he understood what Mullet had just said.

“Excuse me, Sir? Are you saying we’re getting more officers to work on this?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

The alarms were back, ringing loud and clear.

“What do you mean, in a manner of speaking?”

“We’ve been contacted by another police department. It seems that the wounds and manner of death of our victims matches the victims of a serial killer they had on their hands around six months ago.”

“Oh, brilliant,” Jack growled. “A serial killer who likes to change territory…”

“Not quite. This particular man is dead. The concern is that we may have a copycat.”

“Well, this just keeps getting better and better. Are they sending us their files?”

“Yes… And the two detectives that worked the case.”

Jack was silent for a long moment, teetering between gratitude at the extra man-power, and irritation at cops from another area barging in on his case. Finally, he decided to come down on the side of gratitude.

“Well, I’ll be glad of the extra help, Sir. When are they arriving?”

“Late tomorrow afternoon. Their flight arrives at Denton Airport at four o’clock.”

“Flight…?” Jack echoed. “Where are they coming from?”

Mullett drew in a long breath, and braced himself for the explosion.

“New York.”

Jack stared at Mullett in disbelief.

“New York? They’re American?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Oh, this is brilliant!” Jack exploded, almost launching himself out of the chair. “Just what I need!”

“Now, Jack…”

“No!” Jack shouted. “With all due respect to the Americans, Sir, I do not have time to baby-sit a couple of Yankee coppers!”

Mullett quickly stood up to meet the Inspector head on.

“Jack, calm down. I know you’re upset. I don’t like it either, but my superiors worked it out with the hierarchy in New York. I wasn’t told myself until an hour ago. All I can say is that we need to stay open-minded and accept the assistance with good grace. They aren’t coming to take over the case. They’re coming because if it is a copycat, they may have valuable information to help us solve it.”

Jack stared at Mullett, a dozen thoughts running through his mind, none of which he felt comfortable saying aloud.

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“No, Jack, I’m afraid not. Look, take advantage of the situation. Put these detectives to work. If what I was told is right, they’re no slouches at the job. It might just prove beneficial to have them here.”

Jack sighed heavily.

“Fine. I suppose you want me to meet them at the airport tomorrow?”

“No, I’ll take care of that. Just get back to things. And Jack, I appreciate your cooperation.”

The Inspector said nothing as he exited Mullett’s office. Outside, George Toolan and Detective Sergeant Hazel Wallace were waiting.

“Well?” George asked. “What happened?”

“We’re getting a couple of extra pairs of hands,” Jack announced grandly as he led the way towards the cafeteria.

“You mean Mullett actually approved extra help?” Hazel asked in disbelief. Jack was silent for a moment, wondering how to break the news without instantly turning his subordinates against the newcomers.

“Not exactly. It appears that our victims match victims from another serial killer that was on the loose six months ago. We might have a copycat on our hands. We’re getting a couple of detectives to assist us with our case.”

“Where from?” George asked.

Jack grimaced.

“New York.”

Stunned silence met the statement.

“New York?” Hazel echoed. “Are you serious?”

“I wish I wasn’t,” Jack muttered. “But I’m afraid I’m very serious. So was Mullett. Apparently they’re the coppers that worked the case in New York. Some bright spark thought it’d be a good idea to send them over here to us. We don’t get a choice in the matter.”

“This is just great,” George snapped. “Just what we need, a couple of arrogant, self-important Yankees barging in and trying to take over…”

“I hate to admit it, but Mullett is right,” Jack growled. “We don’t have a choice here, so we might as well make the best of it. We’ll put them to work, and hopefully having the extra man-power will take some of the pressure off the rest of you. All right?”

“There’s always the possibility that it might actually help to have them here,” Hazel pointed out. “They might have some insights that will help us catch our killer.”

Jack shook his head as he helped himself to a sandwich from the cafeteria selection.

“I doubt it, Hazel. I seriously doubt it.”

Apartment of Detective Robert Goren
Manhattan, NYC

Goren lay stretched out on his sofa, a couple of pillows stacked up behind his head and another three cushioning his right leg. He’d had a bad night, suffering a great deal of pain, and none of the painkillers his doctor had prescribed were proving effective. At some time through the night, he’d abandoned his bed and retreated to the sofa with his favourite book, a nice thick blanket, and just about every pillow in the apartment. He would have loved to treat himself to a Scotch as well, but medication and alcohol simply didn’t mix.

The change of scenery hadn’t worked, and he’d spent the rest of the night alternating between chapters of Winnie the Pooh, and channel surfing on the TV.

Five hours later, he was feeling tired and downright grumpy, and not at all happy with the prospect of an impending thirty hour flight in cramped conditions. He wasn’t looking forward to that all.

The doorbell rang. Grimacing, Goren threw off the blanket and manoeuvred himself off the sofa, limping painfully across to the door. He was visibly surprised to find Deakins waiting on the other side. The captain hesitated in speaking, eyeing Goren critically.

“Did you get any sleep at all last night?”

Goren turned away, unable to completely suppress a scowl.

“Not much.”

Deakins decided to hold his tongue. From the looks of it, Goren really was in a phenomenally bad mood.

“Ready to go?”

It was all Goren could do not to snap at his captain. Instead, he indicated silently to the bags that waited near the door. There were two small suitcases, and smaller overnight bag stacked together.

“Okay,” Deakins said, slinging the overnight bag over his shoulder, and picking a suitcase up in each hand. He deliberately ignored the look of irritation on Goren’s face at his action. “Grab your stick, and let’s go.”

When Goren made no move to get the walking stick, Deakins threw him a threatening look.

“You’re not leaving without it, Goren. It’s not negotiable.”

Goren’s scowl deepened.

“You’ve been talking to my doctor, haven’t you?”

It was no question, and Deakins was unapologetic.

“You might hate the damned thing, Bobby, but unless you want to be in that leg brace for the rest of your life, you’d better start using it properly. And yes, I promised your doctor that I wouldn’t let you leave it behind. ”

Goren didn’t argue further, but snatched the walking stick up and limped out through the door.

“I’ll just have to leave it on the plane, then.”

Deakins smirked to himself as he locked the door and followed Goren down the hall to the lifts.

“Don’t bet on it, pal.”

Eames was waiting in the car when they emerged from the building. She took one look at Goren’s expression, and made no effort to conceal her grin.

“Miss your morning coffee?” she teased.

“Don’t start,” he grumbled as he climbed awkwardly into the front passenger seat of the SUV. Eames grinned even more broadly.

“Oh, you’re going to be a lot of fun on the flight, aren’t you?”

“Shut up, Alex.”

“Bite me.”

Goren glared back at her over his shoulder, to which Eames replied by poking her tongue out at him.

“Real mature, Alex,” Deakins chided her as he got into the driver’s seat.

“Yeah, Eames,” Goren retorted. “Grow up.”

She favoured him with a mock frown.

“If you weren’t already in pain, I’d smack you for that.”

It was all Deakins could do not to laugh out loud. The first time he had seen them erupt into a fight like this had been just a week after they’d returned to work. Goren had visibly been in a lot of pain with his leg, and everyone had been walking on eggshells around him for the better part of the morning.

Then Eames had come back in from spending the morning in court with Carver. She’d taken one look at his face and promptly suggested he go home and take a valium, or three. It might have ended right there, but then she’d added cheekily that if he was a good boy, she’d come by later and make him a hot milk and tuck him into bed.

Goren had exploded in a verbaloutburst that had sent several officers running for cover, butEames hadn’t so much as flinched away from two had then sat trading furious insults for the next half hour until Deakins finally came out and demanded they put a stop to it.

He’d retreated to his office, fearful that he would have to go to the Chief Commissioner after all and advise him that cracks were starting to show. Then, ten minutes later, when he got up to get a coffee, he’d glanced out the window of his office and had been treated to an astonishing and reassuring sight.

Eames was standing beside Goren, leaning over to look at something he was showing her. After a minute, she straightened up, but not before planting a light kiss on the top of his head. Even as Deakins watched, Goren caught Eames’ hand in his own, squeezing with gentle affection before letting go so she could return to her own seat.

Since then, there had been several instances where Goren and Eames had launched into some truly blistering arguments, and each time the end result had been the same, with a tender kiss and an affectionate hug. Deakins had soon come to realise that it only happened when one of them was in severe pain and, as odd as it seemed, it appeared to be a very effective means of distracting them from their problems, at least for a while. It also appeared to be a very effective way of relieving the build-up of near unbearable tension and stress.

He should have anticipated it this time, knowing the state Goren was in, and let it play out. On the other hand, he had no wish to be caught in the middle of one of their exchanges, no matter how therapeutic it seemed to be for them. It was time to defuse the situation, and he knew exactly how to do it.

“Now,” he said gruffly, even as Goren was gearing up for a reply to Eames’ playful threat, “I hope you two aren’t going to force me to sit in between you on the plane.”

Abrupt silence fell as both Goren and Eames turns incredulous stares on their captain.

“Sit between… You’re coming with us?” Goren asked, stunned. Deakins nodded. He hadn’t intended on telling them until the last possible moment, but his desire to avoid a shouting match between them overrode all else. Now, of course, he ran the risk of one… or both of them exploding at him rather than each other.

“Don’t get angry,” Deakins told them. “It isn’t that I don’t trust you both. But the truth is, there was only one way I could convince your doctors and counsellors to allow you to go, and that was if I agreed to go as well.”

“To keep an eye on us,” Eames said flatly. “So you trust us…”

“But our doctors don’t,” Goren finished off. Deakins sighed a little. How was he going to work around this without raising their hackles? Finally, he decided on the truth, or at least a semi-truth.

“I never wanted this to be put on the two of you. I fought like hell with the Chief of Detectives over it, but he ordered me to assign you to it. After you both agreed, I went back to him and told him what you’d decided. Then I told him I was only going to allow you both to go if I went with you.”

“What did he say to that?” Goren asked.

“He hit the roof. Asked me how much I really valued my job, or if I was more interested in playing nanny to you two.”

“Son of a bitch,” Eames muttered. Deakins smiled faintly.

“I held my ground. In the end he had to approve it. The Chief Commissioner himself ordered him to.”

There was another long moment of silence, and then Goren spoke in a noticeably subdued voice.

“We appreciate it, sir.”

Deakins glanced first at Goren, and then in the mirror at Eames.

“You’ve both been back at work for only a month. It’s only been five months since it happened. I don’t want either of you going into this without support. I trust you both completely, but the truth is you may not get the warmest reception over there. This little… exchange was worked out without the approval of the detectives working the case. They might not be too thrilled with us butting in. After what you two have been through, I’m not staying back here and letting you deal with it on your own.”

Goren and Eames exchanged looks. It was near impossible to be angry in the face of such a fervent argument. Deakins hesitated, then spoke again, a small grin on his face.

“Plus, I promised your doctors I’d make sure you both kept up your physio.”

“You can’t be serious!” Eames moaned. “What are you going to do, stand shotgun over us while we do our exercises?”

“No,” Deakins conceded. “But I will be making sure you get to Denton hospital for the physio appointments your doctors took the liberty of setting up for you. Every second evening for you, Goren, and every Monday, Thursday and Saturday evening for you, Eames. You aren’t getting out of it, like it or not.”

“I don’t believe this,” Eames growled. Deakins smirked, then got a brief look at the expression on Goren’s face right before the detective looked away out the window.

“Goren, don’t even think about skipping those sessions. Remember what happened when you first got out of hospital.”

Goren grimaced. He remembered, all right. He had actually been released from hospital two weeks earlier than the official date registered in his medical records. However, two days out of hospital, and he had ‘accidentally on purpose’ forgotten to go to his physio session at the hospital. When Eames had gone to see him two days after that, she had found him in a state of absolute agony, unable to move from where he’d collapsed in his bedroom. She’d quickly called an ambulance, and he’d spent the nextweek back in hospital as an in-patient.

Afterseveral intensive sessions of physio, and severalvery longlectures from his very angry doctor, Goren had determined never again to miss the vital, if painful, physio sessions.

“Don’t worry,” he said finally, just a touch of bitterness in his voice. “I won’t skip it.”

They arrived at John F. Kennedy International Airport, and were soon checking in their luggage. Goren and Eames hung back, letting Deakins sort out the details and paying minimal attention until the woman on the other side of the counter handed Deakins three tickets and boarding passes.

“Three upgrades to Business Class, with special consideration. The flight departs from Gate Three, Captain Deakins. You’ll need to be there an hour prior to departure for security checks.”

Deakins thanked the woman, then turned back to two incredulous stares.

“Business Class?” Eames asked in disbelief. “The Department didn’t seriously pay for that…”

“The Department footed the bill for Economy fares,” Deakins told them as they moved away from the counter. “But I have a good friend who works for this airline. I put a call through to him, and he organised the upgrades.” Deakins looked at Goren. “If you think I’m going to put up with you in a foul mood because you’ve been cramped up for thirty hours in an economy seat, think again. I would have paid for the upgrades myself, if I’d had to.”

“Thankyou,” Goren murmured, sounding genuinely grateful. Deakins smiled.

“You’re welcome. Just do me one favour.”

“What’s that?” Eames asked suspiciously. Deakins snatched Goren’s beloved folder out from under his arm, where it had been firmly tucked, and shoved it into his own shoulder bag before the detective had a chance to protest.

“Enjoy the damn flight. I don’t want either of you thinking about anything even remotely work-related until we get to Denton. Understand?”

“I’d enjoy it more if I could have a Scotch, or a whiskey,” Goren muttered sulkily.

“On top of your painkillers?” Eames retorted. “Forget it. I, on the other hand, will have…”

“Club soda,” Deakins interrupted firmly, ignoring the dirty look Eames gave him. “You’re on medication, too, in case you’d forgotten.”

“So much for a nice, relaxing trip,” Goren teased.

“Oh, shut up,” Eames grumbled.

Denton Airport
Approx.30 hours later

Superintendent Norman Mullett waited as passengers disembarked from the New York flight, watching for his first glimpse of the three American police officers that Denton would be playing host to for the next couple of weeks, or however long it took to wrap up this current investigation.

For once, Mullett found himself in agreement with Jack. He had tried hard not to think of this as an intrusion, but that was what it felt like, regardless. He only hoped the detectives would not try to take over the investigation. If they did, things were likely to get very unpleasant very quickly, and though he would never have said so aloud, Jack Frost was not a man to cross.

The stream of people coming off the plane faded to a trickle, and finally petered out altogether. Mullett frowned, starting to wonder whether he’d been provided with the right information as to the Americans’ arrival. Then, just as he was about to turn away, three figures emerged through the gateway.

Mullett felt his jaw drop open, and had to make a conscious effort to close it again. Granted, he hadn’t really known what to expect, but he really had not expected what he was actually seeing.

Coming out into the terminal lounge were three people, two men and a woman. One of the men was perhaps some inches shorter than the other, with silver-grey hair. He had a look of authority about him, and Mullett immediately pegged him for being the superior officer.

The other man was impressively tall, at least six foot three, possibly taller, and appeared to have a physique to match. Mullett couldn’t help but muse that the crime rate in Denton would drop significantly if they had more officers with that sort of height and physique in their quarter. What caught Mullett’s attention first and foremost, though, was the brace that completely enclosed the taller man’s right leg, and the walking stick with which he supported himself.

Similarly, the woman’s left arm was also in a brace which, like her companion’s leg brace, stretched almost the full length of her arm.

They were moving slowly, most likely to cater for the man with the leg brace. Mullett felt confused and a little embarrassed. He was just starting to wonder whether he had the wrong people entirely when the woman turned a little and her jacket opened out to reveal a glimpse of the holstered gun that was clipped to her belt.

Mullett grimaced. That settled it. They were the right ones. Sucking in his displeasure and forcing what he hoped was a welcoming smile onto his face, he strode forward to meet them.

“Heads up,” Deakins muttered through clenched teeth, and to the amusement of both Goren and Eames. “The Welcome Wagon is coming.”

They barely made it past the opening into the terminal when, sure enough, they were confronted by an officious-looking man in police uniform.

“Captain James Deakins?”

Deakins felt the slight rippled of silent laughter that passed through both detectives on each side of him, and had to resist the urge to elbow the both of them.

“Yes,” he confirmed, accepting the offered hand in a quick, firm shake.

“I’m Superintendent Norman Mullett, head of Denton CID. I trust you had a good flight over?”

“It was fine, thankyou.”

“And I assume these are the detectives that worked the case in New York?”

Deakins bit back the urge to make a sarcastic reply.

“This is Detective Robert Goren, and Detective Alex Eames,” he introduced them. “And yes, they were very much involved in the Erik Mathers case in New York.”

Goren coughed, while Eames shook her head and tried not to laugh. Trust Deakins to completely understate things. Mullett glanced at the two of them with open scepticism, then indicated the terminal exit.

“If you’ll come with me, then, we’ll get you through Customs, and then we’ll collect your luggage.”

They started walking, and Mullett soon found he had to slow his pace to match those of the Americans.

“You’ll have to excuse us,” Deakins said, sounding not the least bit apologetic. “It was a long flight, and we’re not quite moving up to speed.”

“Quite all right,” Mullett replied, fighting to hide his irritation. “Quite understandable. Although… I hope you’ll forgive me when I say this, but you weren’t quite what I was expecting.”

Deakins glanced to Eames, and then Goren, taking in their bemused expressions and knowing he wore an equally bemused look on his own face. Mullett went on, seemingly oblivious to the exchange of looks.

“It’s just that… well, we were hoping that your officers would be able to actively assist in our investigations.”

“Is there any reason you can see why they shouldn’t?” Deakins asked. Mullett reddened noticeably.

“I’m sorry. It’s just… well…”

“I think he has a problem with our injuries, Captain,” Eames said, deciding to put an end to the games. Deakins slowed to a halt, focusing a penetrating stare on Mullett.

“Perhaps we should clear the air right now, to avoid any problems down the track. The injuries sustained by my detectives happened during their investigation of the very case that both our superiors believe directly reflects what is currently happening here in Denton. Out of the six detectives that were directly involved with our investigation, you won’t get anyone else with more familiarity to the case. Their injuries are no obstacle to us lending assistance to you, unless you make it so.”

Mullett was looking more than a little put-out by then.

“I apologise. I wasn’t wishing to offend anyone.”

“No offence taken,” Goren said, a faint smile. “But you should probably know that there’s another reason why we’re here, and not any of the other four detectives.”

“The last two victims that Erik Mathers took survived,” Deakins said quietly when Mullett threw Goren a frowning look. That quickly drew the Superintendent’s attention.

“Survivors? You’re serious? Well, I must say, it would be quite useful if we had the opportunity to speak to them.”

Deakins swallowed the urge to smirk openly. Instead, he stepped to one side and motioned broadly to Goren and Eames.

“Once we’re settled? Be my guest.”

Mullett stared open-mouthed at the two detectives, completely taken aback.

“I… What I mean is… Oh, good Lord…”

“We’d prefer it wasn’t advertised publicly,” Eames said firmly. “We’ll talk to the officer that’s in charge of the investigation about it if necessary, but otherwise we’d appreciate having the discretion to decide who we do or don’t tell.”

“It’s not something that we can freely talk about,” Goren added. Mullett nodded sympathetically.

“Of course, I understand. I’ll leave that entirely up to you. The officer in charge of the investigation is Detective Inspector Frost. I think he would need to know, but again, I’ll leave that decision to you. I take it that it was a… difficult situation.”

Goren and Eames exchanged grim looks. Mullett couldn’t have made a bigger understatement if he’d tried.

“They were nearly killed,” Deakins said grimly. “I’m not going to go into details, but I hope you’ll believe me when I say I’m not exaggerating about that.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Mullett conceded. “I gather, then, that the braces are because you suffered broken bones…?”

Again, Mullett displayed an uncanny knack for understating the obvious.

“My arm was broken in five places,” Eames said quietly. “Bobby’s legs were both broken, but his right leg was broken in seven places. We fell from a precipice trying to escape Erik Mathers.”

“Good lord,” Mullett muttered again. “Well, any consideration we can give you…”

“We don’t want special consideration,” Goren said, his voice taken on a distinct edge. “We don’t need it.”

“Goren,” Deakins growled in a warning tone. He then looked back to Mullett. “There is one consideration we’ll need. Both detectives have standing appointments at Denton Hospital for physio that they can’t afford to miss. I need to make sure they get to those appointments, and I’d appreciate help in making sure that happens.”

Mullett nodded quickly.

“Of course. I’ll do everything I can to assist you.”

Deakins shot the two detectives a triumphant smirk.

“Thankyou. You can probably imagine, they tend to get a little belligerent about the physio, but it is necessary, whether they like it or not.”

“I think I know what you mean,” Mullett sympathised as they resumed walking again. “The Inspector leading the investigation, Frost, is much the same. He’s a brilliant officer, but quite stubborn, usually to his own detriment.”

“They’re getting along great,” Goren mumbled as he and Eames followed the two senior officers. “Two peas in a pod.”

“Great,” Eames muttered under her breath. “Double the fun.”

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