Gods and Monsters

II

Croydon Cemetery - Croydon, London

The funeral wasn't very large. Nick's parents were there, sitting in the front row with red, puffy eyes, a handkerchief clutched in his mother's hand. Peggy was sitting directly behind them, her face blank and unreadable. Around her, his friends and family were either quietly crying amongst themselves or gazing at the coffin with solemn expressions as the early morning breeze ruffled everyone's hair. Peggy was staring down at her shoes, her hands balled into tight fists. The wind made the air chilly, but Peggy could barely feel it against her face.

I can't even tell anyone what really happened to him, she thought, over and over again as it repeated in her mind like a broken record. They won't know. They'll never know.

When the service was over, she immediately stood up, wanting nothing more than to just get away from the rest of the people. But before she could make her hasty escape, she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. Nearly jumping, Peggy whirled around, staring straight into the worn, tired face of Mrs Campbell, her wrinkled face and earthy brown eyes reflecting the heaviest sadness Peggy had ever seen. The woman was wearing a dark shawl over a tan blouse and dress pants, her lips dry and cracked and puffy from crying.

"You were always so good to him," she said quietly, her bottom lip quivering as Mr Campbell stood a little bit further back. Peggy didn't say anything. Something in her told her she should show some kind of sympathy in her expression, but she couldn't bring herself to feel anything. She was numb, frozen in place as if Mrs Campbell's hand was an iron fist.

"Thank you," she murmured, even when Peggy didn't say a word. She pulled Peggy into a loose hug. Peggy nodded once after they pulled away, before finally turning to leave.

It didn't even hit her when she got back to her car. It took her a good five minutes before she was able to find the will to move her hands and place them on the steering wheel, staring straight ahead in a fog of mental paralysis. She felt like she was spinning and spinning, unable to stop herself from tipping over the edge of insanity.

Mike and Atlin were socialising with a few of the other funeral-goers, and Peggy couldn't help but wish that she was out there with them, sharing stories of the good times she and Nick had once shared, but knowing what she did, she knew she wouldn't be able to hold it together. Excusing themselves so that they could take a phone call, Mike and Atlin distanced themselves from the group and Peggy returned to anxiously drumming her fingers on the steering wheel.

Her phone was vibrating, the sound momentarily snapping her out of her daze. She fumbled for her mobile phone, digging it out by the third buzz.

It was William Yates.

She felt her hands grow cold, her recollection of the newspapers and articles in Nick's box making her blood freeze in her veins. She couldn't just ignore him, could she? No, she was a professional, and anyway, personal dislike of someone held no real merit in this field, no matter her suspicions. Peggy took a deep breath and answered the phone just as it was about to go to voicemail, her hand trembling as she held the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" she croaked. Her voice was thin and raspy as if she had been screaming for the past hour.

"Detective Parker. I'm terribly sorry for your loss. I hope the service went well." That familiar, professional-sounding voice that her boss always seemed to utilize no matter the situation provided no sense of comfort for her as she held the phone to her ear. His empathy sounded staged, rehearsed as if he were reading the words off a piece of paper. "I apologise that I couldn't make it myself, but I wanted to let you know that I will be personally leading the investigation into Detective Campbell's death."

It took her a moment to respond, closing her eyes briefly to try and steady her mind. The thought of Yates leading the investigation into Nick's death didn't fill Peggy with confidence. How could she trust this man who she suddenly knew so little about?

"The service went well." she answered, clearing her throat in an attempt to make herself sound clearer. "It just ended about ten minutes ago."

"I know you are grieving, Detective Parker, but I have a case just outside of London that I may need you to investigate. We've already notified Charlie, but he may need your help with this one."

Charlie.

Even through her clouded thoughts, she recalled her last meeting with Charlie. Despite his genius, Charlie was a huge risk to be associated with the police force: eccentric, egotistical and a little bit exhausting to be around, Charlie was like no one Peggy had ever worked with before. Her mouth formed a rare smirk as she imagined how he and Nick would have worked together, both being almost complete opposites of one another.

"Detective Parker...?" Yates asked shaking Peggy from the train of thought she had drifted to whilst leaving he waiting for a response.

"What?" she asked, blinking tiredly. "Why does Charlie need to be involved with this? It's not..." She couldn't bring herself to say the word supernatural. Sighing, she bowed her head, clenching the phone tightly between her fingers. "If we're really dealing with this sort of thing, that's fine."

"Thank you, Peggy. Again, I am very sorry to ask this of you on such short--"

"It's fine," she said quickly, cutting him off. "Really. Please...it's fine. I'll be there soon. Let Charlie know I'll pick him up in shortly"

"Will do, Detective. Thank you."

"Yeah...no problem," she murmured into an empty line.

She dropped her phone back into her purse, fumbling around until she took out a full pill bottle, the prescription details listed on the side: for a patient suffering from clinical depression. She dry-swallowed three on the spot hastily, ignoring the "Only to be taken once a day" label in bold letters on the front.

Let's do this, Peggy, she thought to herself. One step at a time.

Continued in Part 3