Moonlight Secrets (#2 Penderry's Bizarre)

Chapter Five

The home of Bert Long, the cab driver, turned out to be rented lodgings in a grubby part of town. Nestled within a ramshackle building, he owned few possessions to clutter the tight space. An unmarried working man needed little in life, and could afford even less. Mr Long crossed the bare boards, leaning on a crutch to support his bandaged limb.

"How's your leg?" asked Jim.

He tucked the crutch under his arm and sat in the only seat in the room. "Bloomin' painful. But at least I still 'ave a leg, eh?"

With nowhere to sit, Jim and Westman stood beside the dust-streaked window.

Long propped his foot on a sack of potatoes. "What's this magazine you write for, then?"

"Penderry's Bizarre Magazine," said Jim. "We explore myth, legend and the supernatural. Do you believe in any of that?"

He puffed his cheeks and expelled a long breath. "Well, I believe in what I saw last night. The police reckon it was a dog with rabies, but you were there, Mr Penderry. If that was a dog, I'm a monkey's uncle."

"You were fortunate. I mean, according to the park ranger's account, the creature had you at a disadvantage. It could've killed you, but it didn't. That's strange, isn't it?"

Long squinted in recollection and nodded. "I thought it strange m'self. But I'll tell you somethin'. That wolf was clever. I mean, it seemed like it wanted to stop the cab and scare me away, to get at the people inside. It hid in the trees until they got out."

"A calculated attack?" Westman's brow furrowed. "Did it go after anyone in particular?"

"It chased Mr Carte. He made away in my cab. Flamin' coward. Left the girls all alone and probably thought I was dead. But then it gave up the chase and came after Miss Spencer. That's when you showed up."

"I see." Jim wrote the details on his notepad.

Westman folded his arms and peered through the dirty windowpane. "We suspect it's still out there somewhere. I'd recommend you stay home for a while, especially after dark."

Long tapped his knee. "I'll be takin' it easy for a while until this leg's healed. But I can't hide away forever. I've got a livin' to earn or the landlady will kick me out. Not to mention I owe the cab company for the carriage."

"Ah, yes," said Jim. "Mr Carte claims he abandoned your vehicle soon after escaping the park."

"The spineless jellyfish. He's lucky the horses know these streets off by heart. And they know where to go when their stomachs start growlin'. They found their way back to the stables. At least it's only repairs I have to fork out for and not a whole cab. That creature tore the side to shreds."

Jim slipped the notepad into his pocket. "Might we take a look at the carriage?"

"Be my guest. It's down at Hart Road. They're a good bunch over there. Rare thing these days."

They thanked Long for his time and left for the carriage house. On arrival, a helpful stablehand took them inside a wide shed where muck and straw crunched underfoot. They passed through the pungent smell of horses before the hand left them in the carriage yard. The hackney cab was easy to identify by three ugly gashes across the door.

Westman's brow furrowed. "And to think that beast is still at large."

"Hm. Look at this." Jim unhooked a clump of stringy black hair from the twisted metal. "Fur. I dare say we're looking for a black-haired individual. Most likely over the age of thirty. Do you see the silvery grey hairs running through the black?"