Under a Ghostly Moon (Jerry Moon Supernatural Thrillers Book 1) (6 page)

"
Oh, I think you'd approve of him if you'd met him," replied Moon archly.  Sid's mate, who did recognise the significance, stifled a laugh, while Sonia nudged Moon in the ribs and glared at him to behave himself.

They arrived at the police station and were ushered into separate interview rooms by Sid and his mate
.  Moon sat gazing at the buff panelled walls and hoped Sonia had the sense to leave out the part about him talking to Dominic's spirit.  The police were unlikely to take kindly to ghost stories.

Moon was studying the flaking paintwork and wondering how long they would keep him waiting when Sid's mate opened the door to the interview room and entered, followed by a plain clothes officer.  The latter was dressed in a shabby dark grey suit and carryied a vending machine cup full of steaming liquid.  This second individual, who introduced himself as Detective Inspector Whatley, had the barrel-like build of a large athletic man who was slowly succumbing to middle-age flab.  The way his rumpled white shirt strained around his middle spoke of too many nights down the pub and, the nurse in Moon noted grimly, impending heart disease, if the yellow stains on his right index and ring fingers were anything to go by.

Whatley
pulled at his necktie, straining the already miniscule knot into something not much larger than a pea in his attempt to increase the ventilation via his open top button. 
Suits are the curse of the modern working man
, thought Moon to himself. 
I'm glad I don't have to wear one of the sods
.

"
Mr Moon?" said Whatley in a West Country burr, as Sid's mate put a cassette in the large tape recorder at one side of the intervening table.  Moon nodded.  "Interview with Jeremy Angus Moon of Flat 5, 43 Angel Terrace, Redland, Bristol.  Interviewing officer, Detective Inspector Arthur Whatley - also present Constable William Wright.  Interview commences twenty-three eighteen, Saturday, twenty second May, two thousand and four."

Whatley coughed
.  "Thank you, Constable.  Now, Mr Moon, please tell me in your own words how you came to discover the body of Mr Dominic Llewellyn in the vicinity of the
Hangman's Rest
public house."

Moon decided to tell as much of the truth as he could get away with
.  "Well, let's see, Sonia and I..."

"
That would be Miss Sonia Crest, the girl who was with you when you discovered the body.  What is your relationship with Miss Crest? Is she a friend – Girlfriend - Fiancée?"

Moon felt a small rush of emotion to hear Sonia described in these terms
.  “Girlfriend, I suppose, we've not been together long.  Anyway, we'd spent the evening in the
Hangman's Rest
having a drink and chatting, and then we decided to head back to Sonia's place.  As we were leaving the pub we went past the entrance to the alleyway and I thought I heard someone cry out.  I went into the alley to see if anyone needed help and saw the body lying on the ground but when I looked at him more closely I realised he was dead.  The noise I heard must have been a cat.  I saw one when I first went into the alleyway."

"
You were sure Mr Llewellyn was dead?" asked Whatley, sipping from his Styrofoam cup.  "God! I'll never know how the charlatans who vend this stuff get away with calling it coffee!"  He grimaced with disgust.

Moon grinned involuntarily at Whatley
's outburst.  "I'm a nurse, Inspector, and I work in A&E quite regularly so I know a corpse when I see one.  Besides, it looked like something had been eating him.  I saw what looked like bite marks on his neck.  That's why I didn't attempt to resuscitate hi - no one could survive with that kind of wound.  Not a lot of blood though.  It looked like he'd been dead for some time and I'd guess the bites were post mortem or they'd have bled more."

"
Did you know the deceased, Sir?"

"
No, but Sonia did vaguely.  He was part of the local Goth scene.  I've not had much to do with it."

"
But Miss Crest has, judging by her attire." Whatley sounded disapproving.

"
Yes, well it's just a bit of escapism, isn't it," commented  Moon.  "I've been researching the whole thing; I do a bit of freelance journalism on the side, you see, that's how I met Sonia.  I'm doing an article on the Goth subculture for Venue.

"
And during this 'research' of yours have you come across anything that might relate to Mr Llewellyn's death."

Moon
thought immediately of the other missing Goths, Sonia may not like him mentioning them but he thought it was about time the police knew about it.  "Dominic was apparently one of a number of members of the Goth community who have recently disappeared from circulation.  According to Sonia it's quite common for people to just move on or drop out of sight for other reasons, but I did get the impression that this has happened more frequently in the last two or three months."

Whatley
's eyebrows rose.  "Would you have names for these individuals, Sir?"

"
No, but Sonia might," replied Moon.  "Although, I'm not sure if it'll help you much, half these guys seem to go by silly nicknames."

After a few more routine questions the interview finally drew to an end; Whatley read back a transcript of Moon
's statement, which he signed gratefully, hoping that this meant he could get to bed soon.  "That will be all for now, Mr Moon," said Whatley, placing the statement in a cardboard folder.  "Just don't make plans to travel away from Bristol in the next few weeks as we may need to ask further questions."

Moon had to wait another fifteen minutes for Sonia to finish her interview.  She came out into the waiting area, hugging her jacket around her for comfort.  The mixture of stress and fatigue on her face made her look like a lost child.  "You okay?" he asked, kissing her forehead and caressing her hair.

"
Just get me home, Jerry," she sighed.  "It's been a long night.  Do you mind if we get a cab?"

"
Sure, there's a taxi rank just round the corner.  Do you want me to leave afterwards? I'll understand."

She clung to him like a rock in a stormy sea
.  "No, Jerry, I don't want to be alone tonight.  Too much happening all at once, already! Poor Dominic..." she held him tighter, tears forming stark, miserable rivulets of mascara on her pale cheeks.  Moon nodded grimly and led her softly out into the night.

They travelled back to Sonia
's flat in stunned silence and once the cab fair was paid, they made their way swiftly to Sonia's bed where they held each other in gentle nakedness until morning.

Moon woke to find nothing but a scented hollow in the pillow beside him.  Sunlight streamed through the gaps in Sonia's red taffeta and black lace curtains, which punctuated the reddish glow in the bedroom with bars of brightness and starkly illuminated odd pieces of her collection of gothic knick-knacks.  He could hear the clink and clatter of china and utensils from the kitchen along the hallway.  Memories of the previous night flooded back.  The fear that he might possibly be accused of murder hung over him like a threatening cloud, but this was tempered by the joy of having spent the night with Sonia.

Sonia poked her head around the door
.  "Oh, you're awake at last," she said, entering the room, her pale skin showing in tantalising glimpses through the open front of a black silk

kimono
.  "I brought you some coffee." She placed a steaming mug on the bedside table.

M
oon studied the mug, which had the ‘Manga’ logo on one side; on the other was a title frame from 'Blood… The Last Vampire'.  "Actually, I don't drink... coffee," he said, wondering if she'd get the movie reference, "at least not in the morning, usually."

"
Dracula 2001, yeah?" Sonia
had
got the movie reference.  "Cool movie.  So can I get you some tea instead or do you really want the freshly drained blood of young virgins.  Which I have to admit could be quite a tall order in this neighbourhood."

Moon grinned
.  "Oh, tea will do.  I wouldn't want you to put yourself to any trouble."

"
In a jiffy," promised Sonia, picking up the mug and sweeping out of the room.  Moon caught a glimpse of the gothic rose and thorns tattoo on her right buttock as she opened the door.  He had occasionally mused over the impact that the current fad for body art would have in the nursing homes of the future - he could imagine one teenage care assistant whispering to her colleague as they helped a ninety-year-old client bathe.  "Is that a bat tattooed on Kylie's bum?" and her friend replying
sotto voce
, "No.  It's a butterfly.  I stretched it flat once when I was drying her off," followed by giggles and sounds of disgust.  Still, on Sonia's bum the rose looked good… for the present at least.

Sonia returned with a mug shaped like a goblet, its stem fashioned into a dragon
's claw, which held the bowl in a four- taloned grip.  "Don't you have any normal mugs?" asked Moon.

"
Oh, sure, we have a china set we keep for 'mundane' visitors.  But I thought you'd like our wilder selection.  It's more fun."

"
Well, yes I suppose," Moon sipped his tea.  "I just haven't drunk from anything quite so... exotic before."

"
Wait until you see Avril's skull mug then.  It's the biz." Sonia climbed back into bed and snuggled up to him.

Moon
felt a familiar urge accompanied by undercover stirrings.  "Did they say how long until you could... ‘You know’?" he asked, toying with the ring in her right nipple.

"
At least a week." Sonia grimaced.  "No, ‘you know’ until the swelling's gone down."

"
Damn! I'm partial to a bit of... 'you know'," sighed Moon, having to content himself with a kiss and a snuggle.

"So, why did your interview with the police take so long?" asked Moon.  They were still lying sleepily in Sonia's bed, making the best of Sunday morning.

"
Well, I thought I ought to tell them about the guys who've stopped coming to the
Rest
recently and they wanted details." Sonia shook her head.  "More details than I was able to give them for the main part."

"
You didn't say anything about me talking to Dominic's ghost, did you?"

Sonia fixed him with a steady eye
.  "Oh yeah, I told them how you were psychic and Dominic called you down the alleyway to help him out." At the look of shock on Moon's face her deadpan expression broke into a grin and she punched him gently in the shoulder.  "What do you think I am, stupid? The cops don't react well to anything off beam; it's bad enough that I'm a Goth without blabbing on about the supernatural.  I just said you must have noticed something down the alley which sparked your curiosity."

Moon pulled a grumpy face
.  "You shouldn't joke about it like that.  I was petrified they'd think I'd done it.  You thought I'd killed him to start off with, didn't you?"

Sonia kissed him
.  "I didn't know what to think, Jerry, but I'm still here aren't I? I really don't think you're capable of murder, so you must be psychic, mustn't you?"

"
Glad we've sorted that out.  But it probably does mean someone connected with the
Hangman's Rest
is a murderer, perhaps even a serial killer." He looked directly into Sonia's frightened gaze.  "Did you see that something had bitten into Dominic's throat? I thought it must have been rats or that cat I saw but it's an odd place for an animal to start nibbling.  You don't think…?"

"
You're beginning to think that Uri had something to do with this after all?" Sonia's eyes widened.  "He's the obvious culprit, you know. He's had most of us getting a bit of a chilly thrill out of thinking he might just be the real thing ever since he turned up on the scene a few years ago."

Moon frowned
.  "So he's not local?"

"
Well, by all accounts he's lived in Bristol a long time but no, he's foreign, I think he's from Eastern Europe, possibly Russia or even Transylvania.  Which is another thing - that's where the vampires are supposed to come from originally, isn't it?"

"
Well, yes," replied Moon, "and more recently the
Cheeky Girls
." His flippancy masked his unhappiness with the turn the conversation was taking.  "You know, love, I may be able to see spirits and talk to the dead and all that but at heart I like to think I'm a rational man.  I've seen enough weird stuff to give me an open mind but only ever in the spirit world.  The idea of some sort of demon-human hybrid that lives on human blood goes a bit off limits even for me.  There are good spirits and bad spirits, yes, just like there are good and bad people, but I've never met what I'd really call a 'demon'... I think I ought to interview Uri and see what my
gift
has to tell me about him.  He'd be on my list anyway if he's as heavily into the Gothic fantasy lifestyle as you say he is."

"
Well, he'll probably be at the Rest tonight, they tend to come in most nights over the weekend.  Until then," she kissed him, "there are one or two things which are nearly as good as 'you know'..."

After about twenty minutes of something which was very nearly as good as 'you know' and a further ten minutes of basking in the afterglow Sonia turned to Moon and asked, "Do you like shopping, Jerry?"

Moon frowned
.  This wasn't a subject which had normally come up in his limited experience of pillow talk.  "Depends on what sort," he replied, finishing off his mug of cold tea.

"
I mean browsing, you know going round the shops to see what they've got and possibly buying the odd bit of jewellery or piece of clothing."

Moon
was a card carrying window-shopper of long standing but he thought that he'd play the male stereotype for now, hoping that he could pleasantly surprise Sonia when they got out on the streets.  "Well, I'll give it a go.  Not too many clothes shops though, I never know what to say if a girl asks me how they look in something.  My last girlfriend dumped me because I told the truth one time too many.  Day-glow cerise...ugh! God should have been sacked for even imagining that colour."

"
Well, you won't have that problem with me, will you? My colours are black, red, purple and occasionally white; you'd have to lobotomise me before I was seen dead in pink.  Anyway, I was thinking more along the lines of browsing the book and record shops.  There's a good selection down Park Street and in Broadmead.  Most of the larger ones are open on a Sunday."

"
Okay, why not?" Moon smiled, "it might help take our minds off last night."

"
Oh, don't remind me!" Sonia grimaced.  "Poor Dominic, he was a nice kid, you know, had a really dry sense of humour..."

Moon
remembered Dominic making a joke of his own corpse.  "Still has if last night was anything to go by," he smiled.

"
Oh!" A look of shocked anger flitted over Sonia's face for a second before the truth hit her.  "Yes, I suppose if you believe people don't really die it must give you a very different perspective on death."

"
There's no 'believe' about it, darling, I'm subjected to it on a daily basis." Moon tried to convey the frustration of his relationship with the dead to her.  "Some people say that dying is like a person going into another room.  Me, I wish they bloody well would go into another room occasionally instead of harassing me with their problems."

Sonia was lost in thought for what seemed like an age
.  "You know, Jerry, people aren't given gifts like yours for nothing.  Perhaps, instead of griping about them, you really ought to think about helping them.  Maybe that's your real job in life."

Moon rolled his eyes at her
.  "No, my real job in life is nursing, hopefully with a bit of journalism on the side.  Ghosts don't have to eat, I do!"

"
Just think about it, huh." Sonia's eyes were serious as they gazed into Moon's from a hand's-breadth away.  "Perhaps if you help solve Dominic's murder it'll begin to make more sense of things.  Even though I’ve only known you for the last few days, I've learnt that you don't like loose ends.  It'll niggle away at you until either you tie it up or someone else does."

Moon traced a fingernail around the dragon
's claws on his mug.  "You really think so?" he asked vulnerably.

Sonia sucked her teeth then kissed him on the cheek
.  "I know so, Jerry.  Don't ask me how but I sense this.  It's one of my spooky feelings." She said this last, leaning in so their foreheads and noses touched, her cinnamon eyes were open wide as she grinned up at him.

Moon laughed and kissed her smiling lips
.  Sonia returned the kiss, giggling and Moon threw back the duvet.  "Okay, let's go shopping and leave the spooks to themselves for now."

Sonia and Avril's flat occupied part of the ground and first floors in an Edwardian town house on the Hotwell Road end of Ambra Vale.  This was close to the old Bristol Harbour area in a part of town that is generally known as Hotwells, because of the old healing spring situated just off Jacob's Wells Road.  Moon and Sonia walked arm in arm into the town centre along the harbour side, enjoying looking at the variety of ships moored there.  They paused to watch some cormorants fishing off the TV aerial of a houseboat for a while before they ambled on.  Entering the Watershed area via the huge granite and concrete amphitheatre in front of the Lloyd's bank offices, they had to jump out of the way several times to avoid the skateboarders, who monopolised the area for their play.

The
Watershed area itself took up the left side of the harbour as they walked towards town.  It housed numerous bars and cafés, along with the Watershed Arts Centre, from which it took its name.  Its covered pavement, which fronted onto the harbour, was busy with street traders and groups of people at café tables drinking their Sunday beers, taking in the view of the harbour and generally having a good time.  The pavement led up via a flight of steps to St Augustine's Parade, where ranks of submerged fountains played into large shallow pools; children loved to play in these during summer but they were now empty apart from drifts of dead leaves washed up in the corners.  Here Moon and Sonia bought ice-cream crépes at a vending stall near the steps and sat down to eat them on a convenient bench.

After a short discussion they decided that they would go into Broadmead, the commercial centre of Bristol, and the Galleries Shopping Centre then make their way back up Park Street towards Jacob's Wells Road.  Their afternoon became a happily aimless shopping spree around the centre of Bristol.  At their first stop, in a small jeweller's at the bottom of Park Street Moon bought Sonia a silver enamelled pendant, which had the new moon in white enamel with her hidden face making up the rest of the disc in black.  "Just so you'll always remember me," said Moon, gazing meaningfully into her eyes as he fastened the clasp behind her neck.

Walking up
Park Street they entered the Bristol Museum, where they took in a visiting Egyptian exhibition and the ground floor gallery, which was showing a collection of comic-book art from the nineteen-forties to the present day.  Sonia finally had to drag Moon, who was a bit of a comic-book anorak, away from a display of original 2000 AD artwork so they could eat their Sunday lunch in the museum restaurant before it closed.

Later, they wandered slowly back through town to the
Hangman's Rest
, window-shopping along the way.  "I'll have to take you to the market some time," said Sonia.  "There are one or two really good Goth stalls in there.  It'll give you some idea of where we get stuff and the sort of clothes and accessories that are available.  For your article, you know..."