The Demon in the Doll

Chapter 20

Hello. My name is Tommy Kingsley, and I guess that I'm one of the few good guys in this tale. Well, good is a bit of a stretch. But let's just say that I'm a hell of a lot nicer than a damn demon.

Anyway, the shit all started for me on a Friday in late August. It was six in the morning when my phone started to buzz. That might seem a tad early to the lazy bastards who are reading this story, but I was already up and about. I only need four hours of shut eye a night. I've been blessed with wonderful energy.

I answered it on the third ring. "Detective Kingsley speaking."

"Tommy? Is that you?"

"Yes, it's me. Who are you?"

"You probably won't remember, but I used to teach you algebra back when you were in high school."

"Missus Pattison?"

"That's right. Missus Pattison. I hope I'm not putting you in a bind, but I'm having a bit of a crisis and I don't know what else to do."

"How did you get my number? Did the precinct give it to you?"

"No, I found it on Google. I'm at sixes and sevens over here, and I needed someone to turn to."

"How can I help?"

"Do you know Saint Matthew's Cemetery?"

"Of course. I mean, who doesn't, right? I've been living in this city most of my life, same as you."

"Well, my husband died a few years back, and that's where I buried him."

"Sorry to hear it."

"Don't be. It was a massive heart attack, and his doctors told me that he felt very little pain. It was a quick merciful death."

"That's a blessing, Missus Pattison. I only hope that I'm fortunate enough to go out the same way."

"Anyway, I stopped by to leave him some flowers this morning before going to work when I noticed a human head impaled upon one of the spikes at the top of the fence."

I lit a cigarette and took a swig of coffee. "Could you say that again? I don't think I heard you right. Perhaps I missed something."

"You didn't miss anything. There's a human head impaled on a spike."

I took a long drag and blew the smoke toward the ceiling. "Wow. You don't hear that every day."

"I should hope not."

"I tell you what, Missus Pattison. Let me throw some clothes on, and I'll be down there lickety-split."

One of the best things about being a cop is that I get a company car. My vehicle at the time was a Ford Fusion. It wasn't exactly a pussy magnet, but free is free. It's always nice to save a few bucks.

I switched on the radio as I drove toward Saint Matthew's. I'm a huge fan of classic rock, and Paranoid by Black Sabbath started blasting through my speakers. I played the drums on the steering wheel as I passed Walmart and Shoney's and the International House of Pancakes.

I arrived at my destination at 6:20 a.m., and I met Missus Pattison outside the gates of the graveyard. I hadn't been in the woman's classroom for more than twenty years, so she had to be in her late forties if she was a day old. But she still looked damn good. She had a nice set of perky tits and a shapely ass for a woman her age. Plus she had striking green eyes and a beautiful head of auburn hair. I wondered if she was a natural redhead. Well, there was only one way to find out, and the very thought of it gave me an erection.