Under a Ghostly Moon (Jerry Moon Supernatural Thrillers Book 1) (10 page)

Moon nodded in understanding
.  "I’ve noticed that some human performers seem to pick up a kind of energy from performing.  Perhaps what you're describing is a more concentrated form of that energy.  Maybe because you're vampires you're able to absorb it more efficiently."

"
Perhaps you're right, Moon.  As entities humans span the physical and the supernatural just as we do but vampires do this more completely than you do. This could explain both our advantage in this area, and possibly our weaknesses in other ways."

"
One last question," said Moon, "then I'll have to ask you to leave and let me get some sleep, okay?"

Uri nodded
.  "Okay, I will need to get back to the girls soon anyway or they will worry."

"
Why were you following me tonight?"

Moon studied Uri
's face for signs of duplicity as he replied.  "Moon, I know that poor Dominic is dead.  Very little happens around the
Rest
that we don't know about.  We've suspected for a while that someone has been vanishing Goths from the community that gathers at the
Rest
, but we couldn’t risk exposing ourselves.  But, having met you tonight, I thought that you might be able provide us with an opportunity to help."

"
Why me?"

"
Because of your gifts, Moon." Uri stroked his chin then wagged a long finger at Moon.  "I knew you had the Sight the moment we met tonight.  I could tell that you knew what I am by the scent of fear that emanated from you when we were introduced.  You also watch things that aren't there.  It's a bad habit."

"
Well, it's pretty hard to ignore them entirely, especially when they're as agitated as they were tonight.  One of the old highwaymen was waving to me frantically over your shoulder and mouthing 'vampire' at one point during our conversation."

Uri laughed
.  "Was that what he was doing? He disappeared very rapidly when I turned round and glared at him while you were in the loo." Then he sobered, regarding Moon steadily over his steepled fingers.  "Moon, Dominic belonged to one of our Welsh families.  His death makes this business very personal to us… please help us to find this killer."

"
Well, I suppose I can try but you and the girls would appear to be the prime suspects at present.  You know he had bite marks on his neck?"

"
No... no, I did not." Uri seemed to grow even paler if that were possible.  "It would seem, Moon, that someone may be trying to implicate us in this murder, assuming they are aware of our true natures."

"
Are you sure it's not another vampire?" asked Moon.

"
Yes, I would know if one of my dark brothers entered Bristol and besides I think most, if not all of them have been destroyed.  I don't think it's another supernatural being either.  I haven't sensed that anything unfamiliar has entered our domain recently."

Moon shook his head at the idea
that anyone would think to use him to chase down a killer.  "I am no detective."

Uri gave a short knowing laugh
.  "But I think you are as curious as the proverbial cat.  You will not be able to leave this alone now you've started pursuing it."

"
Looks like you've got my measure," Moon laughed wryly.  "Okay, I'll see if I can help."

"
Good, I suggest you start with the local ghosts.  They may have seen something."

Uri finished his tea then flew off into the night by way of
the main window to Moon’s flat, which had opened readily under the vampire's strength.  It had been nailed shut years ago and was cemented in place by several decades' worth of paint.  Moon hoped he could fix the splintered woodwork before his landlord discovered it.  Uri may be a dark and graceful creature of the night but he also seemed one of those people who were doomed to crash through life like a bull in a china shop.

Moon stood again, paralysed with fear, on the walkway through St Andrew's Cemetery.  The Shadow Beast's tendrils constricted numbingly around his throat and he was gasping desperately for air but this time he knew that there was no Uri to save him...  Suddenly, a swarm of tiny fireflies appeared out of the darkness.  They buzzed around and around and then, somehow, through his head, leaving odd shaped retina burns as they flashed through the substance of his eyes.  He awoke with a start and the 'Beast' transformed into part of his duvet cover, which had become wrapped around his neck.  The fireflies were real though, the tiny ghostly lights he had seen a couple of days ago now danced above his face like damsel flies over a stream.

"
What the hell...?" he croaked.  He waved his right hand through the swarm to drive them off but instead his fingers passed through the nearest dancing glow.  His mind filled with the tiny mote’s residual memory – the fond recollection of the vile chemical taste of a cocktail of cider mixed with surgical spirit, swigged directly from a plastic bottle.  The lingering presence of the memory's owner vibrated with an impish sense of malicious mischief.  "Gordy?" he cried out with horrified recognition.  "Is that you?" There was no reply but the name 'Gordy' seemed to echo on the air, resonating with the sound of his voice.

The tiny sphere settled on his hand, filling him with craving for alcohol and a sense of ingrained grubbiness, which made him yearn desperately for a shower
.  The other five also settled upon his recumbent form, bringing with them a mixture of borrowed memories.  Moon sat bolt upright, causing the minuscule glows to fly upwards and scatter across the ceiling.  "That must be what you are! You're the remnants of ghosts!" He watched as the tiny, pitiful scraps of consciousness returned to him and bobbed excitedly before his face.

"
How did you get like this?" he asked.  Exe didn’t expect an answer but slowly, one by one, each radiant globe approached his right hand, dipping to touch it as they passed.  They each showed him the same memory: a pair of hellish red, glowing, eyes that glowered out from a cloak of shadowy darkness.  The feeling that accompanied this evil vision was akin to his entire being draining down into that darkness like a doomed ship spiralling downward, into a whirlpool.  "What the hell was that thing?" he queried, but his visitors made no move to answer.  They simply hovered before him radiating a sense of bewilderment.

Some
thing
was draining the ‘life’, for want of a better word, out of the local ghosts. Despite his misgivings about his
gift
, he realised that this actually mattered to him.  They had come to him because he was the only person they knew who could see them... the only person who could possibly help them.  He wished he could deny that responsibility but the sense of desperation radiating from those minute blue sparks had cut him to the quick.  "Okay, I'm not promising anything but I'll see what I can do," he muttered, not relishing taking on this 'ghost-eater' face to face.  The ghost- balls danced ecstatically around his room in joyful response to his half- hearted decision.

Moon rose at about noon on a Monday in preparation for working at night the next day.  He would stay up as late as possible tonight, sleep until one or two in the afternoon then go to work at nine, and from then to Friday afternoon he would be out of touch with the world outside of work.  It was tough going for those three days but he liked the extra time it gave him.

He breakfasted
and then showered, gratefully washing away the memory of Gordy's grime as he did so.  Once clean, fed and ready to face the day he decided to use the early part of the afternoon to type up his interview with Uri and the girls.  As Uri's voice took him back to the previous night, he wondered how he should start his investigation into Dominic's murder.  Dominic himself had been unable to tell him much about what had occurred before he was dumped in the alley behind the
Rest
, but perhaps the other spirits there could help.  Moon decided that he would pop down to the pub once he had finished drafting his article to see if any of the local spooks were feeling talkative.

Moon walked into the
Hangman's Rest
a few minutes after two o'clock. Kate was serving behind the bar.  She was dressed less aggressively than she had been the first time he'd met her.  The dark purple silk and lace blouse she was wearing combined with her subtle purple eye shadow emphasised the bright, liquid quality of her dark brown, almost black, eyes.  Less of the biker queen and more of the Goth princess today, thought Moon.  She looked at him askance, sighed and said archly: "You're the one who found Dominic, aren't you? Poor kid, never did any harm to anyone.  The place has been swarming with cops for the last two days, very bad for business, Moon.  Next time you go looking for corpses look somewhere else."

"
Sorry?" Moon was shocked by Kate's irreverence and it must have shown.

"
Oh, I'm sorry, Moon.  This bloody awful business upsets me and I tend to cope with rotten problems by joking about them.  What are you drinking? Ostrich isn't it?"

"
Yeah, a pint please.  What time do you stop serving lunch?"

"
Kitchen's open all day."

"
Okay, I'll order something later but for the moment I just want a quiet spot to sit and read a bit."

Kate pulled his pint of Ostrich and pointed to a corner at the front of the pub where the windows looked out on the street
.  "No-one should bother you over there."

Moon took his beer over to a single table near the window and sat down.  Pulling out a battered paperback and resting it on the table as a kind of camouflage.  He opened up his extra senses to see if
anyone
was nearby.  It was harder to see ghosts in daylight so he had to rely more on the strange inner sense that allowed him to perceive them at all.  Slowly, his eyes were drawn to a dark patch of shadows in the opposite corner, where the light from the window, caught in the dust motes and cigarette smoke obscured most of his view.  The shape of the shadows resolved into the vague outline of a figure in a dark leather coat and wide brimmed hat.  The brim lifted slightly revealing the impression of two hostile black eyes and a twisted hook of a nose peeking out from underneath. 
"What you lookin' at, Sunshine?"
vibed the ghost. 
"I've gutted men for less in the past."
Ghostly laughter susurated briefly through the ether. 
"Not that I'm up to guttin' anything these days, eh?"

"
No, I suppose not,"
Moon vibed back, grinning uncertainly over the top of his paperback. 
"I was wondering if anyone here might know something about a ghost that eats ghosts..."
He felt a bit guilty that he hadn't started by asking for information on Dominic's murder but this morning's experience had set this mystery foremost in his mind.

"
Interestin'."
Moon jumped in his seat as the dark figure suddenly materialised in the chair opposite him.

"
Do you mind? You nearly scared me out of my boots!
"

"
Arr, but that be ol' Dick's job now, bain't it?"
A pewter tankard materialised on the table and Dick took a deep swig of its contents - a useful trick given the price of beer these days.

"
Well, have you any idea what kind of monster drains spirits until there’s nothing left but these?"
Moon indicated the tiny balls of iridescent blue mist, which were huddling together in the darkness of the corner behind him. 
They must not like the light
, he thought.  He'd noticed that most spirits tended to steer clear of direct sunlight.  It was probably worse for the little ghost balls, he assumed, because they had so little of themselves left to hold onto.

Dick grinned
. 
"Is that what they be? Little ghost o' ghosts, I had wondered."
He shook his head.  "
No, I ain't seen nothin' like that.  Nor heard tell o' un either."

"
What about that murder a few days ago in the alley behind the pub?"

"
Ah, y'mean young Dominic?"

Moon nodded
. 
"You know him?"

"
Know un now don' I.  Now 'e's part o' our 'appy fam'ly an all.  Weren't no murder in Gallows Alley either, 'is body were dumped there.  Mus' o' bin shortly after 'is death too or 'e'd be a 'auntin where 'e was killed."
Dick took a deep pull from his phantom tankard.

"
Did anyone see who did it?"

"
Aye, Gulley Longshafts says he saw one o' they 'orseless carriages pull in by the
Rest i
n the middle hours o' the night.  A young cove got out an' opened the other door an dragged Dominic out.  ‘E made out as if Dominic were drunk until 'e got un into alley an then 'e jus' drops un an scarpers.'

"
Where can I find this Gulley so I could ask him about it?"
asked

Moon.

"Ye might catch un in poolroom if ye be lucky, next to yon flashy noisemaker.  Poor ol' Gulley - 'as made a fine torment out o' 'is afterlife that thing 'as."

"
I'd better go and see if he's there then,"
replied Moon, picking up his finished glass to return it to the bar.

"
Best o' luck mate.  If I see yer ghost-eater I'll let ye know."

"
Just beware of dark shadows with glowing eyes.  I don't want any more blue glows following me around.  I already feel like the Pied Piper."
He got up to leave.

"
Pied who?"
asked Dick as he faded back to the corner where he had bled to death all over his favourite deck of marked cards two centuries before.

"What you lookin' at, Sunshine?"

The pool room was upstairs just off the first floor landing next to the corridor to the toilets so Moon had a reasonable excuse to head up there.  He visited the gents first, with some trepidation, because the plump and bawdy Georgian prostitute, who haunted the first floor, liked to make a game of jumping out to scare male customers then laughed at them when they peed on their shoes.  She
did
put in an appearance but she just popped her powdered and pockmarked face through the wall behind the urinal, looked him up and down appraisingly and said flatly:
"Oh, it's you again, Moon."
She then faded crestfallen back into the plaster with a sorry shake of her wig.

"
And good day to you too, Madam," replied Moon out loud.  It seemed that the news that he didn't spook easily had done the rounds at the Rest.

Fortunately
the pool room was empty.  The lunchtime punters had rushed off unhappily back to their office jobs and it was too early for the evening clientele to make an appearance.  The room was dingy, windowless and full of shadows.  The only light shone down from the snooker canopy that hung over the pool table and highlighted a myriad of minor tears and threadbare patches left behind as a testimony to hundreds of drunken pool contests.  Two video game machines raved at each other on the wall across from the door. Next to these stood Gulley's hated jukebox, which was mercifully silent at present.  The ghost of Gulley Longshafts dangled near the ceiling in an advanced state of decay, occupying the far corner just left of and above the jukebox.  What remained of his desiccated features were twisted into an expression of extreme boredom.  "It's okay, Gulley," said Moon cheerfully, "you don't have to put on the full show for me."

"
Oh, 'ullo, it's Moon, innit?"
Gulley gave Moon a ghastly grin and drifted down to floor level, his features rapidly returning to what they had looked like in life, which wasn't much of an improvement.  Gulley had been a tall, gangling, cadaverous individual with a mouth full of yellowed tombstone teeth and a pronounced squint in his pale-blue right eye. 
"It's me penance, y'know, for killing me wife.  I 'as to walk the gallows path in the 'our before dawn and 'ang on the gallows when e're a soul may see - to warn 'em o' the consequences o'
murder
."
He said this last word expressively, as if he were warning a child.  Moon could tell that Gulley wasn't very bright.  He'd come across similar situations before and as far as he could tell such 'penances' weren’t invoked by any higher power, except perhaps the penitent's own greater soul.  From what he'd encountered a ‘penance’ usually amounted to some fairly decent type's way of coping with something terrible they had done.  He had encountered enough unrepentant monsters in the spirit world to know that this sort of thing wasn’t compulsory.