A Moonlight Christmas Carol, Ch 3 (PG-13)
Posted: Sat Dec 19, 2009 6:25 pm
A/N: I’m guessing since this is chapter three, you’ve already seen the author’s note beginning chapter one. If for some unknown reason, you didn’t read the first chapter first, you probably should.
As far as the formal stuff goes, I guess I owe apologies to Mr. Charles Dickens, and the disclaimer that as usual, I don’t own Moonlight, or any of its characters, here is…the third part of my version of:
A Moonlight Christmas Carol
Chapter 3
Christmas Eve, 1984
I was still digesting what I’d seen—or what I thought I’d seen—when I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to find Josef smirking at me.
“I should have known. The Ghost of Christmas Present, right?”
“What? Like you were expecting anyone else? Please.”
“Joz’f, you’re bad enough as a vamp. Snark from a ghost is just wrong.”
“You, my friend, obviously have not read enough classic literature.” He shot his cuffs and frowned at a speck of lint on his shoulder. “Sorry. I don’t do moaning and rattling chains—at least not while I’m on duty. But we do have places to go and people to see.”
“Let me guess—touch your sleeve?”
“Depends. Are your hands clean? This is a brand new Armani, and you are so not smudging it.”
I showed him my hands. Clean. “For a ghost, you’re awfully picky. Are you sure you’re not the real Joz’f?”
He pasted on a fake smile, and dropped it just as quickly. “Trust me. Now let’s do this.”
He only flinched a little when I put my hand on his arm.
I was starting to get used to the gray-out transitions, but the destination took me by surprise. “I’ve already been here tonight.”
“Christmas Present, remember?” The Josef-spirit looked annoyed.
The morgue looked badly lit and poorly decorated…no big change from earlier. That new guy, Guillermo, was still on duty. He and another vamp I’d seen around were finishing up an autopsy, closing the big ugly Y incision on the body of a naked woman. Guillermo was shaking his head, looking at the mottled bruises covering far too much of the corpse.
“Not much question about cause of death, is there?” the other morgue worker, Steve, said. “Someone beat the crap out of her.”
Guillermo looked at the clipboard sitting nearby. “No idea who she was?”
“It says ‘Jane Doe’ on the paperwork. The cops will figure it out, eventually.”
“Yeah, but it’s a shame, at Christmas and everything,” Guillermo replied. “Not going to be easy ID’ing her from a picture, she’s so messed up.”
I looked at the Josef-spirit. “Tell me again why we’re here?” I asked, a little angry. People died every day in L.A., some more violently than this, and I couldn’t get too worked up about it.
“Take a closer look at the body.”
We moved forward, closer to the stainless steel table. I did, anyway. True to his assumed shape, Josef-spirit hung back a little. Probably still worrying about that Armani. Guillermo was right. Someone had beaten this woman to death. I could see, though, that she had been pretty enough, once. Dark hair, pale skin. Or maybe it had been, before. I’d seen this kind of viciousness, more than once, and I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to be seeing.
Then I started looking past the bruises, past the blood clotted in her hair and the cuts on her face.
And I realized, with a curse, that I knew her.
She’d come to me just a few days before, wanting help. Her past, in the form of an abusive husband, was about to catch up with her, she thought, and she wanted protection. I’d turned her away.
Not because I didn’t want the work, but she was broke. Couldn’t pay me. I advised her to go to the cops, but as usual, they didn’t want to touch it until she’d actually been attacked. I couldn’t even tell the morgue guys her name. I was pretty sure the one she’d given me wasn’t the legal one, anyway. So she’d most likely be buried as a Jane Doe, and the scumbag who’d killed her would walk away scot-free.
But, damn, if I’d been less of a jerk…she’d be alive. It wasn’t the first time something had happened. I guess every P.I. has lost a client or two. But this one was my fault. I didn’t like this. At all.
I turned back to the Josef-spirit. “Get me out of here.” I don’t know if my voice was a fierce as I wanted it to be, but I sent it out like a blast of cold wind, and even the morgue guys seemed to feel something. They both looked up as though they’d heard something, and Josef-spirit cocked his head to one side, interested.
This time, when I reached out for his sleeve, he sidestepped me, and clapped a hand on my shoulder. That seemed to work just as well. The world grayed out on cue.
Once again, I was a little surprised at the destination. “I thought this was about my Christmas, not yours.”
“I’m not Josef. I just look like him. And besides, this ought to prove to you I’m not really him. Because I guarantee you, he’d never let you see this.”
You probably figured out, we were at Josef’s place. And there was a Christmas party in full swing, freshies in sexy little elf costumes everywhere. I’d been invited, but celebrating was pretty low on my list. Besides, Josef’s idea of a party is…noisy. A poker night is one thing, but I’d gotten tired of all the hoopla.
Again, I was wondering what the point was. Josef-spirit was being cryptic, which seemed to be a personality trait with him. “Just watch.”
Okay, watching this was a little less painful than the scene at the morgue. The girls were pretty—I guess that ought to go without saying, at Kostan’s place. Josef always pays great attention to his catering. As I stood there, watching invisibly, he was enjoying himself, with girls flocked around him. As he’d said, more than once in my presence, if you were going to live forever, you might as well relish the experience.
So whatever I needed to learn here, I really thought I already knew. I turned to the Josef-spirit to tell him that, but he cautioned me with a gesture. “Just listen.”
There was a discordant note under the party noises. I listened a little harder. Even with vamp hearing, it was hard to pick out, but it was definitely there.
I could see that Josef heard it, too. He disentangled himself, gently, from the three girls around him, and stood, walking out of the room.
At Josef-spirit’s silent urging, I followed. What we’d heard, in the next room, was a human, crying. She was standing alone in the darkness, staring out the window, and sobbing.
Josef—the real Josef—walked up behind her, gathered her in his arms. “Belinda, doll, what’s wrong?”
She didn’t answer, really, but she turned in his embrace and buried her face against his chest, sobbing harder. He didn’t press, just stood and held her. When she quieted a little, he swept an arm behind her knees, lifting her to carry her over to a couch. He sat, easily, with the girl still in his arms, ending up with her on his lap, his hands caressing, comforting her as she hiccupped with her distress.
“Okay, sweetheart, talk to me. What’s going on?”
“It’s nothing, Josef.”
“Right. I always find you girls sobbing in a corner on Christmas Eve over ‘nothing.’ So give it up, babe.”
I had to admit, I was interested. I’d never imagined sitting down and actually talking with a freshie. Generally, well, it was a little more feed and go. Josef obviously had different habits. This girl was not seeming surprised at his interest.
“I—I called my parents.” She paused, gulping. “My father told me…they didn’t want to hear from me. Ever again.” Belinda started crying again, curling into Josef.
He continued making soothing noises, caressing her like a child. I knew he never handled his girls roughly, but this was…different. He didn’t look like he was going to be feeding off her tonight, and he was still gentle. “They’ll change their minds, sweetheart. Sooner or later.”
“Josef, it’s Christmas, and they disowned me. I’m all alone. All—alone.”
He held her a little tighter. “You’ve got me, sweetheart,” he said. “You’ve always got me.”
I looked over at the Josef-spirit. He was looking a little more serious, but not much.
“You’re right,” I told him. “Joz’f would never let anyone else see that.”
“And you wondered how he gets such devotion from his girls.” He punched me in the shoulder again, lightly, and we were back at my place.
I looked around, half expecting to see myself, moping in my chair, but the apartment was vacant except for the two of us, and my empty glass of A positive.
Josef-spirit looked very serious, now. “I’m not supposed to tell you anything, but I wanted to warn you.”
“About?”
“You know to expect a third visitor, right?”
“Yeah, I’d figured it’d work like that.” I’d seen the movies. Hasn’t everyone?
“The third one is…different.”
“How do you mean?”
His eyes shifted uneasily. “Hard to say. Just…different. It varies, y’know? But pay attention, Mick. The rest of this…it’s all been prelude. Next up is the main event.”
I wanted to ask him more, but he shook his head. “Wait for it, boyo. You’ll find out soon enough.”
And with a last brush at his jacket, he vanished. I dropped into my chair. I had a lot to think about, and I wasn’t looking forward to another visitor. Not at all.
As far as the formal stuff goes, I guess I owe apologies to Mr. Charles Dickens, and the disclaimer that as usual, I don’t own Moonlight, or any of its characters, here is…the third part of my version of:
A Moonlight Christmas Carol
Chapter 3
Christmas Eve, 1984
I was still digesting what I’d seen—or what I thought I’d seen—when I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to find Josef smirking at me.
“I should have known. The Ghost of Christmas Present, right?”
“What? Like you were expecting anyone else? Please.”
“Joz’f, you’re bad enough as a vamp. Snark from a ghost is just wrong.”
“You, my friend, obviously have not read enough classic literature.” He shot his cuffs and frowned at a speck of lint on his shoulder. “Sorry. I don’t do moaning and rattling chains—at least not while I’m on duty. But we do have places to go and people to see.”
“Let me guess—touch your sleeve?”
“Depends. Are your hands clean? This is a brand new Armani, and you are so not smudging it.”
I showed him my hands. Clean. “For a ghost, you’re awfully picky. Are you sure you’re not the real Joz’f?”
He pasted on a fake smile, and dropped it just as quickly. “Trust me. Now let’s do this.”
He only flinched a little when I put my hand on his arm.
I was starting to get used to the gray-out transitions, but the destination took me by surprise. “I’ve already been here tonight.”
“Christmas Present, remember?” The Josef-spirit looked annoyed.
The morgue looked badly lit and poorly decorated…no big change from earlier. That new guy, Guillermo, was still on duty. He and another vamp I’d seen around were finishing up an autopsy, closing the big ugly Y incision on the body of a naked woman. Guillermo was shaking his head, looking at the mottled bruises covering far too much of the corpse.
“Not much question about cause of death, is there?” the other morgue worker, Steve, said. “Someone beat the crap out of her.”
Guillermo looked at the clipboard sitting nearby. “No idea who she was?”
“It says ‘Jane Doe’ on the paperwork. The cops will figure it out, eventually.”
“Yeah, but it’s a shame, at Christmas and everything,” Guillermo replied. “Not going to be easy ID’ing her from a picture, she’s so messed up.”
I looked at the Josef-spirit. “Tell me again why we’re here?” I asked, a little angry. People died every day in L.A., some more violently than this, and I couldn’t get too worked up about it.
“Take a closer look at the body.”
We moved forward, closer to the stainless steel table. I did, anyway. True to his assumed shape, Josef-spirit hung back a little. Probably still worrying about that Armani. Guillermo was right. Someone had beaten this woman to death. I could see, though, that she had been pretty enough, once. Dark hair, pale skin. Or maybe it had been, before. I’d seen this kind of viciousness, more than once, and I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to be seeing.
Then I started looking past the bruises, past the blood clotted in her hair and the cuts on her face.
And I realized, with a curse, that I knew her.
She’d come to me just a few days before, wanting help. Her past, in the form of an abusive husband, was about to catch up with her, she thought, and she wanted protection. I’d turned her away.
Not because I didn’t want the work, but she was broke. Couldn’t pay me. I advised her to go to the cops, but as usual, they didn’t want to touch it until she’d actually been attacked. I couldn’t even tell the morgue guys her name. I was pretty sure the one she’d given me wasn’t the legal one, anyway. So she’d most likely be buried as a Jane Doe, and the scumbag who’d killed her would walk away scot-free.
But, damn, if I’d been less of a jerk…she’d be alive. It wasn’t the first time something had happened. I guess every P.I. has lost a client or two. But this one was my fault. I didn’t like this. At all.
I turned back to the Josef-spirit. “Get me out of here.” I don’t know if my voice was a fierce as I wanted it to be, but I sent it out like a blast of cold wind, and even the morgue guys seemed to feel something. They both looked up as though they’d heard something, and Josef-spirit cocked his head to one side, interested.
This time, when I reached out for his sleeve, he sidestepped me, and clapped a hand on my shoulder. That seemed to work just as well. The world grayed out on cue.
Once again, I was a little surprised at the destination. “I thought this was about my Christmas, not yours.”
“I’m not Josef. I just look like him. And besides, this ought to prove to you I’m not really him. Because I guarantee you, he’d never let you see this.”
You probably figured out, we were at Josef’s place. And there was a Christmas party in full swing, freshies in sexy little elf costumes everywhere. I’d been invited, but celebrating was pretty low on my list. Besides, Josef’s idea of a party is…noisy. A poker night is one thing, but I’d gotten tired of all the hoopla.
Again, I was wondering what the point was. Josef-spirit was being cryptic, which seemed to be a personality trait with him. “Just watch.”
Okay, watching this was a little less painful than the scene at the morgue. The girls were pretty—I guess that ought to go without saying, at Kostan’s place. Josef always pays great attention to his catering. As I stood there, watching invisibly, he was enjoying himself, with girls flocked around him. As he’d said, more than once in my presence, if you were going to live forever, you might as well relish the experience.
So whatever I needed to learn here, I really thought I already knew. I turned to the Josef-spirit to tell him that, but he cautioned me with a gesture. “Just listen.”
There was a discordant note under the party noises. I listened a little harder. Even with vamp hearing, it was hard to pick out, but it was definitely there.
I could see that Josef heard it, too. He disentangled himself, gently, from the three girls around him, and stood, walking out of the room.
At Josef-spirit’s silent urging, I followed. What we’d heard, in the next room, was a human, crying. She was standing alone in the darkness, staring out the window, and sobbing.
Josef—the real Josef—walked up behind her, gathered her in his arms. “Belinda, doll, what’s wrong?”
She didn’t answer, really, but she turned in his embrace and buried her face against his chest, sobbing harder. He didn’t press, just stood and held her. When she quieted a little, he swept an arm behind her knees, lifting her to carry her over to a couch. He sat, easily, with the girl still in his arms, ending up with her on his lap, his hands caressing, comforting her as she hiccupped with her distress.
“Okay, sweetheart, talk to me. What’s going on?”
“It’s nothing, Josef.”
“Right. I always find you girls sobbing in a corner on Christmas Eve over ‘nothing.’ So give it up, babe.”
I had to admit, I was interested. I’d never imagined sitting down and actually talking with a freshie. Generally, well, it was a little more feed and go. Josef obviously had different habits. This girl was not seeming surprised at his interest.
“I—I called my parents.” She paused, gulping. “My father told me…they didn’t want to hear from me. Ever again.” Belinda started crying again, curling into Josef.
He continued making soothing noises, caressing her like a child. I knew he never handled his girls roughly, but this was…different. He didn’t look like he was going to be feeding off her tonight, and he was still gentle. “They’ll change their minds, sweetheart. Sooner or later.”
“Josef, it’s Christmas, and they disowned me. I’m all alone. All—alone.”
He held her a little tighter. “You’ve got me, sweetheart,” he said. “You’ve always got me.”
I looked over at the Josef-spirit. He was looking a little more serious, but not much.
“You’re right,” I told him. “Joz’f would never let anyone else see that.”
“And you wondered how he gets such devotion from his girls.” He punched me in the shoulder again, lightly, and we were back at my place.
I looked around, half expecting to see myself, moping in my chair, but the apartment was vacant except for the two of us, and my empty glass of A positive.
Josef-spirit looked very serious, now. “I’m not supposed to tell you anything, but I wanted to warn you.”
“About?”
“You know to expect a third visitor, right?”
“Yeah, I’d figured it’d work like that.” I’d seen the movies. Hasn’t everyone?
“The third one is…different.”
“How do you mean?”
His eyes shifted uneasily. “Hard to say. Just…different. It varies, y’know? But pay attention, Mick. The rest of this…it’s all been prelude. Next up is the main event.”
I wanted to ask him more, but he shook his head. “Wait for it, boyo. You’ll find out soon enough.”
And with a last brush at his jacket, he vanished. I dropped into my chair. I had a lot to think about, and I wasn’t looking forward to another visitor. Not at all.