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Sanford's Psychic Circus
Sanford's Psychic Circus

Sanford's Psychic Circus

JPYoungJPYoung
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I

Tory Davis was cold, wet, and nervous at being alone in a deserted suburb at night.

She sheltered from the heavy rain beneath a marquee of a long-closed store that was directly beneath a broken streetlight. Automobiles had been few and far between as she awaited the car of her boss June to pick her up as they arranged. One car drove around the block. She thought she heard it stop, then go off again.

She observed the same car drove down the street again, as if the driver was lost. The car stopped and the driver whose face she could not see asked her directions to a nearby suburb. As she was a stranger to the area she couldn't help him, but she somehow felt insecure about the burly man. Another tall, large-framed man was walking down the empty pavement towards them. As she attempted to answer the driver's query, her instincts told her to flee. The man began running towards her; she noticed that he was wearing a black balaclava.

She ran in terror through the night down the rain-soaked street. The sound of her heels was drowned out by the noise of the downpour. Her frightening pursuer dashed after her with his steps becoming louder, faster, and nearer...

Her flight didn't last long. Mick Sullivan's large hand in a black leather glove covered both her nose and mouth that made it impossible to breath. Mick towered over the diminutive woman as he lifted her, so her legs were not touching the street. He walked her back to the car with her frantic struggles and stifled cries being futile. However, she was getting in a few hard sharp backhanded punches with her black gloved hands into Mick's face that caught him by surprise, bloodied his nose and stopped his laughing. She was growing fainter due to the lack of oxygen, but she had intense fear inside her. The other man, Donno Roberts, who had driven the car, was also wearing a black balaclava. Donno had taken her suitcase, placed it the boot of the car and was holding out a syringe.

Unable to scream or breath, she felt the stab of a needle. She felt herself growing weaker as the gloved hand was removed from her mouth. She gasped for air but what she wanted to be a scream came out a weak quiet whimper...

'Help me...Somebody...Please...Help me...For the love of God...'

The last thing she remembered was the sound of sadistic laughter, being thrown down on the floor of the backseat and covered with a blanket in a Burberry pattern...

II

It was strongly believed by many people that the public servant was one of the most useless creatures to inhabit the face of the Earth. General George Patton once quipped that public servants were like defective cannon; they wouldn't work, and you couldn't fire them. In the Australian Public Service, or APS itself, the abstruse department that received the most ridicule was the Miscellaneous Affairs Department. The initials were enjoyed by all the other departments of the APS as its officers were called 'MAD men or women' or it was 'the Department that drove you MAD'. In the game of APS empire building and empire elimination MAD served the function of having obscure and unwanted sections that were once in other branches of the APS merged into it. Mostly unknown to the general public, MAD kept other departments from growing too large and not meeting their budget by taking over a variety of functions the major departments no longer wanted or had to shed. In return, the other departments could send their misfits to MAD to get them off their books. Ironically, MAD seemed to be the only department that never worried about its funding.

MAD was the career graveyard of the APS.

Besides the usual directorship and general administration of the Department, MAD comprised several sections with no apparent relationship to each other, with the solitary exception that no one else wanted them. There was a section of very senior executives unofficially called 'the departure lounge' whose daily activity was being placed in a room where they would sit like students being punished with detention until they resigned, retired, suicided or somehow found their way back to the traditional departments of the APS.

Less senior officers formed a variety of clerical sections who would act as a check and balance by duplicating the work of similar sections of other APS departments. They attempted to ensure that there would be different opinions for better or worse and hopefully act as a check on corruption, until they too resigned, retired, suicided or somehow found their way back to the APS mainstream. The government found it cheaper to post undesirable public servants to MAD rather than pay them lucrative redundancy packages.

One of the myriad of MAD's sections was ARIES, the Additional Research, Information and Enquiries Service. The section had previously had two letter 'I's; it had originally been known as 'Investigation and Intelligence' but a combination of jealousies from the major well known Commonwealth Investigation agencies and the not desiring confrontation MAD management changed the name to the less dramatic 'Information'.

One of ARIES' misfits was David Robert Sanford, nicknamed 'Doc' because of his first two initials. Doc was Canadian born and bred. Many of the departments of the APS had former English and American nationals, but Doc was somewhere between the two. He was raised in Ottawa by his parents who were a pair of Canadian civil servants who were renamed public servants in 1967. His parents joked and Doc lamented that it was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to them in their careers.

Doc sought to escape his tragic pre-ordained fate of a dull steady life of administrative hell, uninteresting peers and awful weather. He enlisted into the Royal Canadian Regiment where he served overseas, then returned to Canada. Leaving the regular forces, his lifelong dream was shattered when he was not selected to become one of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. In what he regarded as an inferior second place he became a Constable in the Ontario Provincial Police and a reservist with the Royal Regiment of Canada.

Everything seemed to be a normal life for him, until the day his mentor, partner and only friend suicided...To everyone's chagrin he left the police to work his way around the world in more interesting tropical and sub-tropical Faraway Places with Strange Sounding Names in a variety of more exciting occupations.

Then came April.

After the depths of his friend's suicide, he rose to the heights when he fell in love with an Australian woman. He married the love of his life, then emigrated to Australia as April's husband. Prior to becoming a citizen, he worked as a private and commercial enquiry agent. Perhaps because of his unusual background on his part or a touch of xenophobia on their part he was rejected by both the Australian Federal Police and the State Police as he had been from the Mounties. He followed his wife into the APS and due to his overseas police and local private investigation experience he ended up as 'The MAD Man from ARIES'.

The world fell in on him again when April was killed in an automobile crash.

He survived as a zombie in a zombie job in the zombie world of the undead of the APS.

III

ARIES work involved accepting taskings the other departments didn't want to do or weren't funded for. Doc had major successes by linking investigation reports from several diverse departments and agencies then placing them together for analysis. In one case Customs had information a certain individual was going to bring in forbidden material, this wasn't the case, so they didn't prosecute the individual. However, the information on the individual provided to ARIES led to other matters. Immigration had believed the individual was going to violate the conditions of that individual's visa. That was only at that stage purely speculative, so again no action was taken. Immigration's reports on the matter contained several telephone numbers of concern. A person waiting for the individual in question at the airport was questioned by another agency for a security matter. By obtaining a wealth of information that ARIES obtained through memoranda of understandings with other departments and agencies, 'value adding' new sources of information and analysing the matter, Doc identified and located a people smuggling operation. It was successfully prosecuted by another agency, but ARIES had done the groundwork.

Doc also had successes in similar matters that involved domestic security, illegal prostitution activity and a variety of other matters that had slipped between the cracks between the mission statements of various departments and law enforcement agencies. When the matters were successfully prosecuted and individuals were sentenced to prison, other agencies received the credit, but ARIES received confidential acknowledgement and continued funding.

ARIES comprised a total of three people.

'Doc, Suzy. Come into my office now.'

Doc's manageress was an officious piece of work named Alexandra Constance. The intelligence grapevine said that Alex had been exiled to MAD for a combination of her incompetence in the investigation section of her previous department and Alex's wish to have a supervisory investigative position that did not involve working long hours at odd times so she could be with her children. Doc thought her initially being loud and rude was her attempt to cover her shortcomings that were as apparent to all as her super large backside. Though she sucked up to management, Doc admired her because she could get the information he needed, was a hard worker, was open to detailed suggestions, and was always there when he needed her. She had been a general duties state policewoman prior to her marriage.

Doc's partner-in-crime was Suzy Wheeler who had ended up in MAD because senior management regarded her as the most hated and feared officer in the entire APS. This was due to the fact that she had successfully sued the higher management in her previous department. Her barrister proved their harassment in court and Suzy received a lucrative payout. Had the matter not been kept confidential, Suzy would have been the most admired woman in the APS by the junior officers for the same reason.

Suzy had previously been a talented freelance investigative photojournalist until one day she was made to realise that suddenly she was in her mid-30s, had no money in the bank. zero job security and no pension for her future, as Doc was made to realise through April.

The director of MAD had scored a coup by pairing her up with Doc. Though exact opposites in so many ways, the two worked incredibly well together and handled each other's shortcomings. Doc's slapdash reports were corrected by her in grammar, chronology, and good editing from her journalist days. Suzy's full blown loud criticisms and impatience were tempered by Doc's courtesy and imparted knowledge that revealed her fallacies. He helped Suzy with speed, she helped him with accuracy and coherence. She was initially morose, with Doc asking her why she was called 'gay' when she was always so gloomy. Doc's sense of humour brought hers out into the open when she was with him and she came out of her shell, for the public service excelled at destroying the self-confidence of their officers.

Suzy thought Alex was a cruel but dopey dominatrix who obtained her pleasure by gleefully disciplining them though her harsh tasking, directing and guiding the pair. Both admitted that in an incredible rarity for the public service, Alex accepted responsibility for both their and her own actions and had strong public service investigation experience. Alex's director had convinced her to reward Doc and Suzy by taking them out to dinner away from the office at the Department's expense after their successes that made the trio grow closer. Each member of the triangle acted as a mediator between one of them and the other, often in private.

Though they wouldn't admit it, they were not only perfect workmates. but they were each other's best and only friends. Both sometimes gave Alex a bad time, but Alex had to admit that their efforts made her look good in front of her superior. Her subordinates were honest, hard working, intelligent, had integrity and a strange sense of humour that made her laugh. They somehow formed a strong triangle that against all the odds obtained unexpected excellent results. The director of MAD found that when he spoke to each one of them separately, they pointed out their grudging respect for each other though they said the others had 'eccentricities'. However, they accomplished wonderful things, worked well together...and no one else wanted to work with them.

Alex's 'office' was an empty room that various people on their floor used for conferences, team meetings, birthday parties and disciplinary counselling, being nicknamed 'the naughty room' for that reason. Alex usually sat in a workstation next to the pair of them in 'ARIES Corner' as it was called. When she wished to believe herself important, she summoned them to her 'office' that Suzy and Doc both compared to the Cone of Silence on Get Smart.

They entered the room with Alex holding a file and putting on her spectacles that Suzy thought was a prop.

Alex started the meeting with a loud breath that Doc joked she used because the Department couldn't afford to give her a gavel.

'CHAMELEON is coming to a head.'

CHAMELEON was the code name for the investigation ARIES was doing on solicitor June Cannington. June's administrative assistant Victoria Davis had contacted a government agency when she was worried about possible illegalities in some of June's work. That department contacted MAD who arranged a confidential meeting between Miss Davis and Doc and Suzy. Suzy not only took dictation, but secretly took Miss Davis's photo. Suzy once told Alex that Doc could 'charm the birds down from the trees' as he had obtained the initially reluctant Miss Davis's promise that she would testify in court when a certain government agency would issue her a subpoena.

'Miss Davis has suddenly gone on leave. Her employer June Cannington said she has an unknown boyfriend, and they took off for a week together at an unknown location. Her mother's frantic and has no idea where she is. Any ideas, Doc?'

'I don't think she's the type to suddenly run off with a boyfriend for a week that neither her mother nor her boss knows about.'

'You're just jealous because she didn't go off with you, Doc.'

'I never asked her, Suzy. If I wanted to go out with someone for a dirty weekend, I'd ask one of you two first. Ménage à trois, s'il vous plaît?'

'Like all the other sick insulting things you say, I'll ignore you for the time being. Do you have any thoughts, Suzy?'

'She did seem nervous as we said in our report. Doc was able to calm her down and reassure her. The matters in CHAMELEON are pretty serious. Have the police been contacted yet?'

'They said without any proof or serious suspicion of Miss Davis being in danger there's nothing they can or have time to do.'

'Doc and I will put our heads together and get back to you.'

'C'mon Barbie, let's go party...'

Suzie replied in singing squeaks. Alex stared daggers at them until they left, then she smiled and shook her head.

* * *

Doc and Suzy went down the lift to their favourite café. They had informed Alex that if she had her own office, then they had their own investigator's clubhouse.

'I think I'll dress down and pop by June Cannington's office as one of Miss Davis's mates to see if I get any vibes off her. I don't trust her at all. I'd like to rattle her cage, but I don't want to get Miss Davis into any bother.'

'From what I hear about her and the fact that a subpoena has already been issued, I'd keep clear of her. She's like a nest of snakes, but without any charm.'

'Well, what would you do, Suzy?'

'Think outside the box. Let me talk to Alex. Maybe you can go for a walk to get some ideas and come back, and we'll compare notes.'

IV

Over time Alex had come to accept Doc's habit of walking the streets to exercise his mind and speak to his subconscious. Thus, Doc went for a wander and Suzy perused the various documents in the CHAMELEON file. Best friends always knew when to leave each other alone...

Doc's eye was caught by the brightest of posters that seemed to glow in the dark when compared to the drab things around it.

WHEN YOU NEED HELP THAT NO ONE ELSE CAN PROVIDE, RIDE THE WAVES OF THE PSYCHIC TIDE!

There were attractive photos of five women and a man of different ages, but all had beguiling eyes and enticing smiles. They looked like they all knew something you didn't, and they couldn't wait to tell you.

Doc had no idea how long he looked at the photos, they seemed to entrance him...He looked for an address, and a date but there was only-

PRE-BOOKINGS ESSENTIAL! RING MADELEINE AT...

Doc looked at his watch and wondered where the time had gone, ten minutes had elapsed since he looked at the sign.

He had heard that police used psychics, and he had heard that they weren't totally reliable. He guessed it would be a Catch 22 in finding a good one; the easiest to find were the charlatans with a publicity addiction, if there were any real ones, they'd keep mum on it. He laughed to himself Alex would never approve the funding. She'd probably put a traffic cone on her head, look at her glass paperweight and tell him she sees someone crazy.

Two things he needed as he never needed before were a new adventure and a laugh or two...so why not? He telephoned the number.

'Hello. My name is Dave Sanford. Is this Madeline?'

'No, my name is "Madeleine".'

'Êtes-vous français?'

'No again. My mother wanted "Maddy" but my father wanted "Irene", so...'

Madeleine had a raspy voice and a great sense of humour. They spoke on a variety of topics and found they shared a mutual love of dogs and conversed on canine psychic abilities from their own pets.

'I can't place your accent. It sounds almost American, but you're too polite.'

'We Canadians even say, "thank you" to automatic teller machines.'

As with looking at the poster, the time seemed to fly. Madeleine wanted his telephone number so she could discuss whether her circle wanted to speak to him...Doc provided it.

* * *

His telephone rang back at the office.

'Is this Mr. Sanford?'

'Everyone calls me "Doc" because my first initials are "D.R.", but I'm not medically qualified so you can't sue me for malpractice.'

'Everyone calls me "Lady Bird" because my name is Robyn. We've decided we'd like to make an appointment for you so a "Doc" can see us.'

'Is this the royal "we" or has everyone voted on me?'

'They did, Doc. You're the first Canadian I've ever spoken to.'

'Congratulations! You're English?'

'Cornish.'

'Better still.'

As with Madeleine, he found her engaging and fun to chat with.

'And how much do you charge per hour?'

'We won't know until we meet you.'

'I'll wear something old and shabby.'

'It's not what you have in the bank, it's what you need from us.'

'I suppose if you're clairvoyant you'd know what I want.'

'We're going to give you a complete reading and determine what you need, rather than what you may want. It may not be the same thing, but that's what we do.'

He strongly agreed with that.

'Suppose I don't come up to expectations?'

'Madeleine's our gatekeeper. She believes you have potential, and so do I.'

'Potential for what?'

'How soon can you meet us?'

'Now.'

'Meet us at the Odeon Cinema in East Lamington at three p.m., or should I say 1500? Just walk in the stage door; we'll be waiting for you, Doc. Just bring your honesty and integrity.'

She rang off; Doc was more and more intrigued.

V

East Lamington was one of the many small suburbs that Doc had no reason to ever visit. Though he found the building of the Odeon Theatre on a map, there was no telephone number; it was more than possible that like many theatres or cinemas it was no longer a playhouse, but the building was used for other purposes.

Odeon Lane was not too far away from the railway station and the main strip of shops and cafés that lined the high street. He walked down the laneway, sighted the building and spotted a light over a door that read STAGE DOOR. He thought of the old classic films where he expected an old man with an open waistcoat guarding it, instead he found an attractive redhead with a sparkle in her eyes.

'Welcome, Doc. I'm Madeleine.'

They shook hands and she led him through what had once been a chapel that had turned into a theatre that had transformed into a cinema and now was...who knows what? Pleasant memories of his mother taking him to Disney films, attending Saturday afternoon matinees with his cheering and whistling gang of friends, nervous high school dates, and midnight movies where the audience made loud jokes like the army cinemas rushed back into his mind.

A light dramatically turned on over the old stage where there was a round table with six people sitting in high-backed chairs. He recognised the faces in the chairs as those on the poster as Madeleine guided Doc to a similar high backed chair to what everyone else sat in, like the Knights of the Round Table. A very attractive woman with black hair and bright blue eyes was playing Spanish or Latin American sounding tunes on a guitar that were beautiful, relaxing, and seemed to have a hypnotic effect. The youngest of the group was drawing with coloured pencils on pieces of paper. Madeleine pulled her chair next to Doc, sat down, put on spectacles and produced a dictation pad. The circle was complete...

'Ladies and gentleman, this is Doc. Doc, this is "Moor" short for "Maureen", medium, astrologer, Reiki master and our librarian and research specialist. She's our living fountain of knowledge.'

'If you call this living', laughed the youngest of the group who was actively drawing.

Doc was the only other person who laughed, the others just looked at him.

Moor was the oldest of the group and looked like a friendly schoolteacher or a helpful intelligent librarian. Like all the others she had a warm genuine serene smile and happy eyes.

'Pleased to meet you. The Moor, the merrier.'

Everyone smiled and politely chuckled instead of groaning that pleased him.

'And this is her husband, 'Less', or Les. Celtic Tree and Ogham reader, rune caster, our mechanic and handyman.'

He looked like a former motorcycle gang member who had found the light through his wife and turned away from darkness; but he still would be a man you desperately wanted on your side when things got rough. Handyman indeed. Doc sensed he was a descendent of berserker Vikings and savage drunken Scotsmen.

'I'm afraid I don't know what a Celtic Tree or an Ogham is Les, but if you're into it, there must be something to it.'

'This is Ray with a "y". She's a medicine tool maker, seer and our artist. She's the most in touch with the spirits of our Earth.'

Doc instinctively liked them all, but Ray looked like the icing on the cake. She was the sturdiest of the bunch and reminded him of a child as she was drawing something with coloured pencils and rewarded him with a great smile. He had the feeling she was the group's comedienne.

'What are you drawing, Ray?'

'My impressions of you.'

'I hope they're good ones.'

'This is Clair, medium, remote viewer and psychic.'

Clair was the most striking woman he had ever seen. She not only was beautiful but composed herself like a fashion model. It was an art to wear leopard skin correctly without looking like a cougar, a tramp, or a jungle girl, but she was chic from her high heeled black patent leather shoes to her scarf covered hair worn tied on the top of her head.

'Miss Clair Voyant?'

'No, it's Madame Clair de Lunette.'

'You've a great sense of humour.'

'Fair dinkum. But my middle name is "Delia" so I changed my surname by deed poll from Marie-Clair "D." Lunette to Clair de Lunette.'

'Êtes-vous français?'

She replied in perfect French that she was, having travelled from the Alpes-Maritimes, to Paris, to New Caledonia, then to Australia. It instantly explained her serene grace and élégante dress sense that appeared natural. She had no trace of any accent, unlike Doc's Canadian one that made most French people he spoke to feel sorry for him because they thought he sounded as if he were mentally retarded.

'Isn't Delia a Greek name?'

'Perhaps', she said the word as only a Frenchwoman could, 'But that was the name of my mother's favourite episode of an American television show called One Step Beyond.'

'This is Lady Bird who you talked to on the telephone. She's a medium, a healer and sees and interprets auras.'

Like the others she had the warm eyes and smile, but he sensed that she was more than a medium, she was well done.

'I imagine that you're the Mother Superior around here.'

Everyone broke out laughing with Lady Bird laughing the loudest.

'The nuns gave me hell in school!'

'I'll bet you gave it back to them!'

Everyone laughed harder, and the ice was broken once they began telling stories of days gone by in Catholic schools. Les told tales of his school's Irish Monsignor educating the boys by forcing them into the boxing ring with him. Doc laughed that the old comic book adverts showing people becoming musclemen or karate experts by being terrorised by people kicking sand in their face at the beach should have had them being terrorised by Irish priests. Clair recalled her affair with a Foreign Legionnaire on Corsica; both discovered that both her convent and the Legion had several of the same traditions and procedures.

Lady Bird suddenly began to cry. Moor and Clair began to softly console her.

'If I had behaved myself, I wouldn't have ended up here...'

Doc had no idea why he spoke up strongly, but he did.

'How many people have you helped by your being here? Wouldn't you have gone through hell and back to help those who needed it?'

Moor cradled her in her arms where Lady Bird cried into her shoulder, all of the six turned as one to Doc and mouthed 'thank you'.

The guitar playing woman didn't wait for her introduction,

'And I'm Rosemary-for-Remembrance. Reader, intuitive healer, medium and musician.'

She was the most enchanting of the group, her black hair was tied in a black ribbon and hung over her shoulder. Softly speaking in a lace curtain Irish accent her blue eyes were bright and inquisitive. She was the living embodiment of Doc's favourite Australian song, The Black Velvet Band. Not only was she wearing one on her hair, but her eyes did shine like diamonds, and he did think her the Queen of the Land...Doc had a vision of a long-ago shipwrecked survivor of the Spanish Armada staggering ashore on the Emerald Isle where he met his wonderful destiny.

'So, you're all clairvoyants?'

'Clairvoyance is seeing', said a now composed Lady Bird.

'Clairaudience is hearing', remarked Madeleine.

'Clairempathy is sensing emotion', contributed Moor.

'Clairsentience is feeling', said Rosemary.

Clairalience is sensing through smell', added Les.

'Clairgustance is sensing through taste', smiled Ray.

'Clairtangency is sensing through touch', purred Clair.

Rosemary smiled and asked him a question as she still softly played her guitar.

'Won't you introduce us to the woman who brought you to us?'

'Don't all of you know Madeleine?'

'No Doc, the woman standing over you with the wild brown hair that looks like she's been in a coastal storm, green eyes, a body like a professional swimmer and a truly radiant smile.'

Doc looked around and saw nothing then realised Rosemary was describing his dead wife. He reassured himself that they could have researched files somewhere and saw her photo.

Rosemary gave Doc the same grimace April would give him when she wanted him to say more, then began singing and playing his wife's favourite song April, Come She Will.

'Stop it!', for the first time since her funeral he felt tears in his eyes.

'She brought you to us, Doc. You wouldn't be here if she hadn't. What do you need?'

'Can you talk to her?'

'Yes, but she says it's not her time to talk to you yet, you'll meet again, just be patient. She doesn't want to hurt you but she's only going to talk to someone who really needs her to. But...she does need to know why you've always hated her song.'

All the severe repression of his emotions from his intense years of soldiering, policing and investigation could no longer hide the grief in his voice.

'Because it's all about losing a woman. I was always afraid to lose her and then I did, but not in the way I expected.'

'You never lost her, Doc; she just travelled to a different place before you', soothed Moor.

'She was promoted to the next grade, we're still with the slow learners', gently smiled Ray.

The no nonsense Les spoke man to man.

'The spirits are everywhere, Doc. Most can't or won't communicate until your destined reunion. You're just going to have to tough it out like the rest of us. Everything and everyone goes, mate. You can't hang on no matter what you do or what you say, but you can keep and treasure the great memories you had. That's what makes life worth living when it goes totally dark.'

'I just want to see her again and tell her I love her, and I miss her.'

'She knows that Doc, she's always known it and she always shall', Rosemary confided.

'Most spirits can't be seen by anyone. Some spirits can only be seen by one person, some spirits on a special mission can be seen by everyone', Lady Bird explained.

'April says you need our help. Tell us what you need.'

Doc reached into his black attaché case and pulled out the photo Suzy had candidly taken of Victoria Davis and blown up so her face was the full size of the photograph.

VI

June Cannington rechecked her appearance in the mirror in the ladies room. Her blonde hair was flawless, and her complexion reflected her intense devotion to physical fitness, high quality cosmetics, and keeping the ravages of middle age hidden from sight. Her tailored navy blue suit and jewellery combined professionalism with a taste for fine clothes.

She left the room to meet her two hirelings Mick Sullivan and Donno Roberts sitting at a table in an upmarket inner-city restaurant. The pair had formerly been State Police detectives but in a very long process of cleaning out the corrupt, the dirty and the deadwood, the police union, undetected high ranking unsavoury senior police and frightened politicians had gradually agreed on a compromise. Certain experienced and supposedly notorious police would be rewarded with massive payouts, immunity from prosecution and the suppression of their past escapades in exchange for early retirements due to the undeniable stress of police duties.

Mick and Donno had the best of both worlds; they were receiving a police pension whilst their old boy network of mates still in the force would provide them with any information held by the police that they wanted. They possessed first grade counterfeit police identification with the names of both imaginary detectives and those of actual unsuspecting ones still on the force.

The pair still looked like the experienced policemen they had been. Since leaving the force they had accomplished a variety of activities ranging from assassination to wilful destruction of records and property. They anxiously awaited the invention of criminal offences beginning with 'q', 'x', 'y' and 'z' to complete the alphabet.

June had established a steady long term friendly working relationship with Mick and Donno in a variety of questionable matters. Their most recent activity had taken them back to 'a' for abduction.

June had provided the pair with a lucrative form of gratitude for removing her morally upright administrative assistant Tory, what she preferred to be called instead of Victoria, Davis from the deserted street of a lower-class suburb that was empty at night. June had informed Tory only that afternoon that she needed her in her position as administrative assistant for a very important project. They would travel for a period of no longer than three days to a location June would only reveal to her once she picked her up. She was to mention her trip to no one at all because of the high sensitivity of June's project.

Tory had previously travelled several times at a moment's notice with June. She would bring a suitcase containing three day's worth of clothes and sundries for confidential meetings where she would take dictation, so it wasn't an unusual request. What was unusual was the location where June would pick her up that was in the middle of a suburb where no one was on the street. June explained that she had to have a meeting with one of her clients there, so it was more convenient to pick her up and drive to the airport from that obscure location.

Miss Davis was currently being child minded in an airbnb by Nikki Broadmoor who was adept in behaviour modification through sensory deprivation and a variety of other methods to encourage cooperation and compliance. Nikki had used her skills with a variety of women who didn't appreciate their new employment opportunities that they had been trafficked into Australia for. She had a splendid success record, but if Miss Davis didn't pass Nikki's final examination, Mick and Donno would permanently remove Tory from the planet. The quartet had earned a considerable tax-free amount from international criminal organisations.

June briefed her men.

'Tory had been talking to a public servant investigator by the name of David Sanford. I'm told he's going to be at the East Lamington Odeon at 7 p.m.. The cinema is closed and is now the home of a psychic that Mr. Sanford is going to see. I'd like the pair of you to use your police identity to bluff him into telling you what Tory told him as I'm sure he'd know the penalties from keeping information from the police.'

Mick queried, 'How did you find that out?'

June laughed, 'His boss Alex Constance came here to talk to me. It was too easy to convince her I was worried about the rough bloke Tory suddenly took up with and fell head over heels for that I couldn't talk about out of respect for her mother. Just between us girls...'

The pair laughed as June convincingly faked crying.

'It was too easy to use reverse interrogation on Dickless Tracy. She sent Sanford to interview Tory who was worried she thought something I did might have been suspicious. I cried harder and she consoled me that Tory only had suspicions and she'd keep the drug peddling imaginary boyfriend I made up to herself as I assured her Tory would be back in less than a week, sadder but wiser.'

Her tears were gone, June's eyes now looked like a cobra about to strike.

'Nikki says she's making progress and should have Tory compliant enough to deny she ever saw anything suspicious. If that fails, she believes Tory's able to write a convincing dictated suicide note. Then you'll step in after that whether she writes the note or not.'

'We know about the summons issued to Tory. If she has no suspicion after all, it's just a fishing expedition, and I know what a smart solicitor could do with that...', smirked Donno.

Mick asked, 'Do you know who this Sanford works for?'

'A group called, wait for it, the Additional Research, Information, and Enquires Service from the Miscellaneous Affairs Department!'

All of them roared with laughter.

'One of these public service groups that play cops and robbers', replied Donno. 'They're like the little ankle-biters who come to the local area commands on Police Open Day and we give them toy plastic badges and colouring books.'

'You've told me that the police have nothing about myself, but Dickless Tracy confided this Sanford had gotten to Tory. I'd rather you see him away from his workplace.'

'I wonder if the psychic can predict what's going to happen to Sanford?', laughed Mick.

VII

Madeleine had telephoned Doc to come to the Odeon before 6:45 p.m.. He sat at his usual chair at the round table.

Mother Superior Lady Bird opened the conversation.

'We've used a variety of our talents to locate Miss Davis. The bad news is that we often can't locate someone in a specific location. The good news is that we will be able to confirm Miss Davis's location in a very short time through some very unusual methods...I took your advice about rattling Miss Davis's employer June Cannington by impersonating your boss. Her aura was so bad I had to disinfect myself. I also sent the subliminal suggestion that someone come to have a chat with you just about...now.'

Doc couldn't conceal his puzzlement as Mick Sullivan and Donno Roberts came into the theatre and displayed police identification. All of them rose.

'Mr. Sanford, I'm Detective Sergeant O'Brien and this is Detective Senior Constable Johnston.'

Doc's impressions of the pair brought back April's frequent comments and consolation to him when he'd be in a depressed state regretting that he didn't get into the Australian police. She said in Australia the police were a corrupt bunch and if he ran with them and they hadn't corrupted him, which she knew he never would be, he'd be disgraced, gaoled or dead; possibly all three. He thought the pair exuded the worst image of police detectives, loud, boastful and slimy.

Clair gave the unwelcome visitors a classic French expression that made them feel like two dung beetles who loudly and fragrantly broke wind in a packed church.

'So, this is Sanford's Psychic Circus', sneered Mick Sullivan.

'You're looking at the ringmistress', snapped Lady Bird.

'And she's looking at the clowns', Ray beamed as she walked over to Mick. Les grinned as he walked to Donno.

'If you were a man, I'd shut your loud mouth', Mick loudly threatened.

'If you were a man, you wouldn't talk like a little sissy boy playing tough.'

Ray's smile grew broader, her eyes twinkled.

Mick reached over and grabbed her shoulder and pulled her towards him.

'Still think you're fuckin' lucky you can hide behind your pussy?'

Ray ecstatically smiled then immediately grabbed his offending arm with one hand, instantly stepped in closer grabbing his arm with her other hand and shot down to her knee in a proverbial flash.

'Meow!'

She threw him through the air with a flying mare sending him to the floor with a loud painful crash and pinned him to the floor, using her hands and legs to put him in the position known as the cradle that made him as helpless as a baby. It had happened so quickly that Doc and Donno were startled.

Donno Roberts gave a shocked expression and looked at Les. Les winked, then headbutted him knocking him to the floor in a state of sudden unconsciousness; in the full view of the defenceless and now panicked Mick.

'Doc, why don't you take Rosemary over to the hotel for a drink? We're going to play Truth or Consequences with our guests', laughed Lady Bird.

Moor smiled and opened her jacket in front of the helpless, screaming Mick displaying several shiny knives sheathed in the inside of her coat. Mick began crying in fright.

'YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME HERE WITH THEM!!!'

'Just be cool, compliant, courteous, co-operative and consistent...or else', replied Doc.

The louder Mick screamed the louder Ray laughed...

The efficient Madeleine put on her spectacles and produced her pen and dictation book from her handbag.

'We'll come and fetch you to disseminate the final product.'

'I'll do the collection', laughed Lady Bird, 'Madeleine will do the recording and we'll all do the collation and analysis.'

That The Magnificent Seven knew the steps of the Intelligence Cycle did not surprise Doc.

'YOU CAN'T HOLD ME HERE!', Mick screamed in fright.

'It's Kinbaku time!' Clair squealed, 'I've always wanted to show everyone my knowledge so I will hold you here!'

'Search, secure, segregate, silence, safeguard, speed, and scare the hell out of them', cheerfully whispered Les.

Doc recalled the same instructions minus the last remark for the handling of prisoners of war he was taught in his Royal Canadian Regiment. He assumed Les was a former digger used to handling prisoners, but with special forces experience to conduct extreme field interrogations that Doc did not want to know about.

'FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SANFORD!!!'

All of the psychics stopped their smiles and turned as one to the terrified Mick Sullivan and simultaneously loudly whispered,

'"For the love of God..."'

Mick screamed in terror like a wounded animal.

Rosemary put her arm through Doc's, and they walked out the stage door and down the lane way. There was no sound from the Odeon once the door was shut.

VIII

The East Lamington Hotel was a loveable old pub that had seen better days, but no one redid the original decor whether out of poverty or respect for the great times of the past. The upstairs lounge had old but comfy traditional furniture. A few people sat at other stuffed lounges and chairs in the home type atmosphere that featured old books and board games in bookshelves and old paintings on the wall. It was that rare type of place where you got high off the vibe and the people rather than the booze and you instantly felt at home.

Over their Guinnesses, Doc declared to Rosemary,

'It's about time.'

'It's about time for what?'

'For you to tell me about yourself. I've been waiting to hear about first you, then your friends.'

'I only talk to other people about themselves, I never talk about myself.'

'Someone who never talks about themself? Where have you been all my life?' He noticed a hurt look in her eye, so he made a joke, 'I suppose you'll tell me that if you told me that you'd have to find a new place to hide.'

He was glad she laughed.

'So, what do people want to know?'

'It's 99% asking about money, love or their job. They want guidance or confirmation and will go somewhere else if you don't tell them what they want to hear.'

'I'm the one per cent, Rosemary. I want to know about you. Where you're from, how you began, and how you met your wonderful friends that seem more like a family.'

'They are my family...I can't say any more about me or them, but I'll give you a reading.'

'What's the point of that?'

'It's the only way I can be with you, I have to read you. Everyone should see themselves as others see them rather than how they see themself.'

There was a small stage with a guitar on it. She picked it up and found it was in tune. She set on the top of a lounge perched over Doc playing more Spanish or Latin American guitar licks that again had a calming effect on the increasing number of people in the hotel lounge. Still keeping with her Spanish/Latin-American theme she slowly, softly and seductively sang Nature Boy to him as his reading in a beautiful, strange Spanish/Latin-American arrangement. Doc had always loved that Nat King Cole song, but it never sounded lovelier or more haunting, and it did sound as if she was reading him by singing.

Everyone in the lounge of the East Lamington Hotel wildly applauded at its end.

'Now you're going to have to sing with us!'

A couple walked out, the woman was carrying a violin case and the man who spoke was carrying some speakers. He took his guitar that Rosemary had played and connected it to the sound system.

'I'm Ed and this is my partner, Nadine. Since you're so good with my guitar we're going to demand you sing the first song in payment for the use of my instrument!'

Everyone wildly applauded and cheered.

'No, someone has just asked me to dance...and I haven't danced for suchhhhh a long time...' She looked at Doc, 'You don't have to look like you're going to the firing squad.'

'I'd love to, but I don't know how to dance.'

'Tonight's the night when all kind of things will happen...'

She put his arms around him.

Ed laughed, 'Any last request?'

Doc pointed at the black ribbon that tied Rosemary's hair and mouthed something.

'What else?', Ed laughed as Nadine, his violin playing companion giggled.

'We've a very special request from two very special people who are going to dance for us.'

With everyone eagerly looking at them Doc nearly panicked when the music started, but when he looked into her sparkling blue eyes he suddenly felt amazingly reassured in her arms. Ed and Nadine began playing and singing The Black Velvet Band as Doc had silently requested. He suddenly found himself dancing like Fred Astaire as he held the new girl of his dreams, and he softly sang the refrain of the song into her smiling face. She beautifully sang along with him, but without any lyrics, that made him think of one of the ancient sirens singing to the sailors on the sea to lure them into the rocks...

He found himself in heaven and never wanted the song to end. Ed and Nadine took turns singing all the verses with Nadine doing a violin solo until the song was over and everyone applauded.

'We gave your fella his request, now you give us ours and give us another song, milady.'

Everyone applauded and shouted 'yeah!'.

She went on the small stage and took Ed's guitar. Ed produced his harmonica as she whispered to the pair of them.

'This is something for my "fella" as you call him, my Mavourneen as I call him...'

'What the bloody hell's a "Mavourneen"?', someone from the audience shouted.

'Your true love, the sweetheart you know is yours and who loves you as much as you love them.'

The audience hushed as if they were deeply touched and remembering a wonderful moment in their lives. Doc felt as proud as punch.

She sang We'll Sing in the Sunshine with everyone clapping in time and singing the chorus, but Doc noticed she had changed the lyrics to 'I'll stay with you one night'.

Everyone applauded, a pseudo gypsy gave Rosemary one of the roses that she sold for free. Rosemary broke off the end and placed it in Doc's lapel buttonhole.

'Rosemary for Remembrance. I hope you like flowers.'

'Flowers are like medals, they don't mean anything until someone gives one to you.'

IX

A smiling Les came in holding a Guinness he had ordered. For his dissemination he handed Doc some keys, holding one of them to signify its importance.

'Flat 203, 157 Kingswood Avenue, Kumongra. There'll be a woman at the door, but Rosemary speaks her language. Just go into the bedroom after you go in.'

'How are your guests?'

'Terrified!', Les laughed. He took another drink of Guinness. 'You'd think they'd've seen ghosts! We didn't have to do anything to them physically. Whilst you're over in Kumongra we'll leave them at the police station. Now run along and we'll see you later.'

Rosemary and Doc left the hotel to get a taxi accompanied by the sound of Ed and Nadine singing Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow.

* * *

They rode in the back seat together with him holding her with his hand on her opposite shoulder, her arm around him and her head on his chest and their clasping each other's hand. He was no longer surprised by anything Rosemary or the rest of her friends did. They just did...

She looked up into his eyes...Incredibly, he found himself softly singing Black is the Colour of My True Love's Hair to her. She sang the second verse back to him...He had fallen in love at the speed of light...

She read his mind.

'Do you really want to stay with me? It will have to be forever and ever. Can you do that?'

'I can with you. I just have to tidy up some things at work.

'It has to be now.'

'Somebody's had their impatient flakes for breakfast this morning! Two bowls! All good things are worth waiting for', he laughed.

'No, it's not your time yet. You'll have to be patient, but I do love you.'

Doc felt as he was in heaven again by hearing those words. Only April and his parents had said them to him...

'And I love you! Patience is part of a strong relationship, isn't it?'

'Never, ever forget that, Doc...'

He kissed her and she reciprocated.

Rosemary turned from him to look ahead, her expression lost its wistful smile and she appeared as if she were looking into a different world rather that the road ahead...

'Oh, my Mavourneen...true love is always just around the corner, but it only comes to someone who needs you as much as you need them...'

Rosemary began to radiantly smile as she still looked ahead.

'Mavourneen, your true love is waiting for you, and you'll meet her sooner than you'd ever expect! She'll sweep you off your feet and leave you feeling giddy! She'll have you in her clutches, and then you'll have her in yours like you and April had each other! You'll remain in love with each other until World's End when everyone meets again...'

She turned to look into Doc's eyes.

'But we'll meet again long before that. You're going to have the love you deserve and April desires for you!'

They arrived at their destination.

Paying the taxi and walking to the door of the apartment complex, she held his hand preventing him from pressing the buzzer and looked at the pocket where he carried the keys Les had given him.

They entered the outside door of the apartment complex with one of the keys and walked up the steps.

Rosemary gently pushed Doc aside and knocked on the door and angelically smiled as she looked at the peephole on Apartment 203.

No one could be afraid of Rosemary's bright eyes and smile.

Nikki Broadmoor, a middle-aged blonde who looked like she worked her way up from the proverbial wrong side of the tracks opened the door and sneered.

In the blink of an eye Rosemary threw a right cross that landed between her eyes that sent the dishwater blonde crashing to the floor.

'You wanted to know something about me, Doc. Well, I'm Oirish...'

She pointed to a closed door. Doc ran to the bedroom and opened the door.

Who Doc presumed to be Miss Victoria Davis had her wrists and ankles tied to each post of the imitation brass bed frame with what looked like pillowcases; two more similar pillowcases acted as a blindfold and a taut gag between her lips that wore bright red lipstick. Dressed in the type of cheap patterned pyjamas sold in discount variety stores, she was wearing what looked like industrial grade earmuffs and appeared to be held captive in half restraint and half sensory deprivation.

He freed her and she hugged him.

'Are you all right, Miss Davis?'

'Oh yes, Doc. The woman who sang to me said you'd be coming soon and not to worry. She said to tell you that she loved you so very much and she'd see you again when your time came. Excuse me...'

Tory found the bathroom to freshen up and shower. He admired Tory's resilience, then he realised that she had always known and addressed him as "Mr. Sanford" when they met and had no reason to know about his nickname...

Rosemary dragged the dishwater blonde to the bed and began replacing Tory's restraints on Nikki. Doc pointed at the bathroom door.

'It sounds like she's rescuing me...'

'Maybe she is, Doc. Maybe she is...

When Tory came out of the bathroom wearing a white bathrobe she had found hanging on the door, Rosemary was finishing placing Tory's bonds on Nikki, swapping the gag with the blindfold. Doc pointed to Nikki as Rosemary emptied the contents of a glass of water on the end table on her face that revived her.

'You mean she sang to you and told you someone was coming to rescue you?'

'Oh no. I didn't hear the voice in my ears, I heard it in my mind. She kept reassuring me that Doc of the Mounties was coming for me, and she kept singing April, Come She Will. I didn't know you were a Doctor, Mr. Sanford, or a Mountie.'

Doc felt dizzy, 'Well, O.P.P....'

Rosemary loudly slapped Doc on his backside and winked at him as April used to do and left the bedroom.

He felt as he was in shock and staggered. Miss Victoria Davis sounded worried.

'I'm fine, Doc. I really am...now...you don't look so well...you need a hug more that I do...'

She obliged him and he returned her lengthy embrace. He felt faint and sat on the bed on top of Nikki's leg; she moaned in protest.

'Oh, pardon me.'

He politely moved off her leg.

'Oh, she told me so much about you, Doc! Now let me just make us a cup of tea, black, no sugar with some cold water, the teabag left out, isn't it? And I want to ring my Mum. Don't worry Doc, I'm not mad, I'm Welsh, which is similar but better...Oh, and you'd better call me "Tory" from now on...'

Still sitting on the bed, he heard Tory rummaging around to make some tea then she rang her Mum on the telephone and began talking and talking...

'My wife talks to everyone except me...', he complained.

Nikki moaned.

He heard the outside door break open. Tory shouted,

'I'm fine! That man in the bedroom rescued me!'

The small apartment filled with armed Federal Police.

'You're Sanford from ARIES.'

'Yes, Inspector. You were told what's going on?'

'Two of the toughest apes on our books that we couldn't convict on anything were left tied up outside one of our local area commands. They were crying like scared little kids and told us what was going on, They were more scared of NOT being charged with anything! We found out your Department was working on this case and knew about you. Your mob always gets in our way, until now...Those two we have are separately writing and signing lots of confessions clearing up all kinds of unsolved things in our records...I've never seen two tough men so scared out of their wits...'

The accompanying uniformed constables released Nikki, read her rights, handcuffed her and marched her out.

'Where is she?', asked Doc.

'Who.'

'Rosemary. The girl who let you in.'

'No one let us in, we broke in.'

'You should've knocked! I was just making Doc a cup of tea', Tory scolded.

'Not her, the black-haired woman whose hair was tied up with a black velvet band.'

'There was no one else in the room except youse.'

'Missed her by that much!', Doc cracked in his Maxwell Smart impression.

X

Doc had been kept for hours at the station as no one believed his story. He had to satisfy them by stretching the truth that he had an anonymous informant who provided him the key and the address, and he was by himself. He had to repeat that over and over and over until he almost believed it himself.

In the meantime, he was informed that a highly frightened June Cannington had come to another police local area command and made a confession of hiring Mick Sullivan, Donno Roberts, and Nikki Broadmoor into abducting and threatening her administrative assistant into not testifying against her in a variety of fraudulent matters she was detailing in her confession. Like Mick and Donno, June was terrified out of her mind but wouldn't say by who or what. She just begged to be formally charged over her lengthy signed confessions that included a variety of illegal activities.

* * *

It was after the dawn when Doc was at last allowed to leave the police local area command.

Madeleine's telephone number had been disconnected.

Doc returned to the East Lamington Odeon to see if the building was open or if there was a note on the door.

The Odeon looked like it had been destroyed in a fire...a fire from several years ago...

He went around the block for a welcome strong long black and to talk to several older shopkeepers who said the Odeon had caught fire one night several years ago and several people were killed in the blaze.

Ringing Alex to tell her he had taken ill and wouldn't be coming to work that day he went to the font of all earthly knowledge, the East Lamington Library. One of the helpful librarians who wore her spectacles on the edge of her nose led him as if he were a child into one of the research rooms. Following her instructions, he discovered a wealth of local material and read about the still unexplained fire or arson attack that took the lives of seven members of a psychic fair who were doing a show at the theatre. The tragedy occurred before any of their customers came in; the seven psychics were the only deaths. Their photos were in the newspaper articles as well as a poster of the show, the exact same poster that Doc saw on the wall that suddenly seemed so long ago.

Every one of the psychic circle was there by photo, or in Madeleine's case, by her name....

* * *

Doc returned to his flat, feeling like a bum wearing his same suit and lacking a shave. Upon the pillow on his bed were seven red roses and a sprig of fragrant rosemary that hadn't been there before...Doc knew he'd see them again, somewhere, sometime...not when he wanted them, but when he needed them....

FIN

Author Notes: I am the author of three Extra Dimensional/Ultraterrestial military science fiction novels MERCENARY EXOTIQUE, OPERATION CHUPACABRA and WORK IN OTHER WORLDS FROM YOUR OWN HOME! as well as two travel books THE MAN FROM WAUKEGAN and TWO AUSTRALIANS IN SCOTLAND (all from Lulu.com). I live happily ever after with my wife in paradise (coastal Kiama, NSW Australia).

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JPYoung
JPYoung
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