Gods and Monsters

IX

Camden, London

After the stressful day the team had been through, Charlie had promised the group a surprise that was "almost definitely going to cheer them up". After listening to Deborah's wailing for nearly an hour after Anton's jump, Peggy wasn't sure that was going to be easy. She was the last of the main team to arrive with only Rachel and Butch, who had also been invited, yet to turn up.

Peggy exited her car and joined the others by the metal railings around a nearby park. "So, what's this big surprise then?"

Charlie sighed having had to explain to each person individually what the surprise was as if it wasn't already clear. He pointed to a rundown two-story building on the corner of the street opposite them. "It's just over there - Quinn's Public House. Well, technically it's called The Devils Retreat, but I think that sounds too unfriendly." Peggy took another look at the building. There was no obvious signage outside to show whether or not it was called Quinn's or The Devil's Retreat for now. The red paint was peeling off of the walls and the windows for the upstairs residential section were either cracked or stained with all manner of liquids.

"Okay, I know it's not much to look at for now, but with a bit of TLC we can get this looking pretty decent I think."

"We?" Atlin questioned.

"Well, I figured that we may need somewhere a little more private to discuss our cases away from the police station, so I've nominated this place. I'll also be doing the upstairs up a little so I can stay here making it, even more, convenient for you to pick me up, Peggy."

"Or you could just buy a car?"

The group chuckled about this, agreeing that it might not be such a bad idea to have somewhere away from work they could discuss their cases without being near other officers, and it was in a pretty good location too.

"You got any booze in there, Quinn?" Mike said as he began to cross the road. "I'm parched." The others followed inside and found their places in the dark bar. Charlie propped himself up behind the bar and picked up a six pack of beer from underneath.

"It's all I've got for now, but soon enough we'll get this set up properly."

The door opened once again as Rachel entered. "Sorry I'm late, I saw you guys entering just across the street. Where's Butch?"

"We thought he was with you?" Atlin said.

Placing her coat on a slightly torn bar stool, Rachel froze. "No, he told me that he got a text from one of you asking for him to join you guys. I wanted to speak to him as after I finished going through the documents and he left, I checked online about the murder he mention in '95 – the one he said Anton was suspected of - and it turns out that someone pleaded guilty to the murder just 2 weeks later."

"That's a little odd, but I guess he wouldn't know that they had been after the wrong guy in Anton, would he?" Charlie said as he undid Rachel's can and slid it to her from which she took a quick sip before continuing.

"At first, that's what I thought, but after I was done with my documents and Butch left to join you, I went through his half of the passenger list and couldn't find any record of a Butch Callaghan on the flight."

The team each put down their cans in shock. "What are you trying to say, Doc?" Mike asked, already suspecting that he knew the answer.

"I'm saying that whoever Butch Callaghan was, he was not on Flight 616 when it went missing in 1995."

Outside of the archaic pub, just across the street where the group had previously been standing was a small black hatchback, the driver inside drumming their fingers along the solid black steering wheel as they watched the shadows move inside the building. The driver turned the key in the ignition, happy with what they had observed that evening.

"Oh, Charlie. What are you up to now?" They said with a smile as their foot hit the accelerator and they drove off into the midnight streets of London.

Continued in Part 10