Demons from the Past

By Olivia Sutton

Part 2

Disclaimer: This fanfic is written for fun, for the enjoyment of other fans, and for reviews, but never for profit, so please don't sue! Based on the new (2000-2001) version of Randall and Hopkirk (deceased)starring Vic Reeves and Bob Mortimer, copyright to the BBC 2000-2001. (previous version copyrighted 1969 by ITC).

PLEASE PLEASE NOTE: the individuals, places, and institutions portrayed in this story are absolutely fictional, no real person or persons are meant to be implied or suggested in this fanfic. Any resemblance to real people, teachers, schools or anything or anyone else is absolutely a co-incidence and accidental.

Warnings:Again, dealing with adult topics, adult situations, and violence (including the aftermath of violence). Please do not read if easily offended or under-age. This story is reluctantly rated R, no one under 18 admitted without parent or guardian. And if you are under-age, for god's sake don't tell me. 'Nuff said.

Demons from the Past

by Olivia Sutton

Part 2

The next morning, Jeff was sat in the offices of Randall and Hopkirk (deceased), waiting for Jeannie to arrive. He was expecting her at eight, so they could get an early start for the school. Jeff was starting to worry when he heard a few noises in the hall and then the outer door opened. "Jeannie?" Jeff called out.

"It's me, Jeff," came Jeannie reply, then she said, "I've brought something for the office..." She walked in with a plastic carrier bag, and moved towards her desk, placing the bag on the surface, and took off her jacket.

"Jeannie, now's not the time for decorating, we need to find that school in Kent, today."

"I know, Jeff, I know, but... I was thinking about those photographs you showed me yesterday, so I popped into Marks & Spencer and picked up a couple of frames, I thought we could...you know, put a couple of those photographs out in the office, in frames, I thought it'd be nice."

Jeff looked at her, "That's... look, it's a nice idea, Jeannie. And I'd love to. Maybe even later today, but right now we have a bit of a drive ahead of us. Once we get to Abbotts Field, though, we can get started with some interviews, okay?"

Jeannie nodded, "Sure, Jeff, I... let's go ahead and get started for the school then," Jeannie left the bag where it was, and put her jacket back on.

Jeff walked over to her, and put a hand on her arm, "Look, it was a nice thought, Jeannie, and I might want to pick out some photographs from the album later...but...I can't explain it, Jeannie, I just have a very bad feeling about this case. We need to hurry, and we need to start those interviews," Jeff took his hand off her arm, then picked up his own jacket and led her out of the office.


Jeff drove Jeannie in her yellow convertible to the grounds of the Abbotts Field Comprehensive School. They drove up the drive to the car park and left the car, taking a path to the large stone school building, they walked up the stone stairs and entered the building.

"It's strange, isn't it, Jeannie?" asked Jeff, as he held open the heavy front door to the school for her.

"What?" Jeannie replied, as she walked into the hallway.

"Walking into school again, makes you feel like a schoolboy," Jeff said.

"Well, I don't feel like a schoolboy, and anyway, I attended boarding school with Wendy."

Jeff nodded, "Right. But Marty and I... we attended a local comprehensive just like this, up north."

Jeannie nodded, "I know you did, Jeff."

They entered the building and walked straight to the main office, where they met a brisk and efficient secretary.

"Hello, we have an appointment with the headmaster, Mr. ... Farnham," said Jeff.

"And your names, sir?"

"Randall, Jeff Randall and this is my business partner, Miss Hurst."

"Ah, yes," said the secretary, checking a diary in front of her, "You're expected, if you'd like to just sit and wait for a moment?" She indicated a row of chairs against the wall.

Jeff nodded, and walked quietly to the chairs, sitting down in a metal and wood chair. Jeannie sat quietly next to him, then Jeff rose and began to pace back and forth in front of Jeannie, while they waited.

Jeannie was about to tell Jeff to stop pacing when a man came towards them. Jeff stopped his pacing, and Jeannie stood. The man, a tall, grey-haired, imposing figure, wearing dark horn-rimmed glasses, walked up and said, "Mister Randall? Miss Hurst? I'm Mr. Farnham, I understand you are making enquiries about the Worthington boy?"

"Yes, that's right, Headmaster," answered Jeff, standing up straight and tall, looking right at him.

"Well, I've already talked to Sir Worthington, but come in, and ask your questions," he said, as he pointed towards a door with a frosted window pane, with "Headmaster Ian Farnham"stenciled on it. He held open the door for Jeannie and Jeff, then entered the office, pulling the door shut behind himself.

The office was spacious but cramped with filing cabinets and bookshelves over-crowded with leather covered books, hard cover books, and paper backs. Papers poked out between books, and covered the large imposing wood desk at one end of the room. Farnham crossed to the desk and sat in a big leather armchair behind the desk, reaching forward as he did so to turn on a brass and glass table lamp.

"Well," started Jeff, standing in front of the desk, hands behind his back.

"Sit, both of you, and relax, I promise, I don't bite," said the headmaster.

Jeff sat in a simple leather chair before the desk, and Jeannie sat in a identical chair next to him, "Well, Sir Worthington came to us because he's worried about his son Clive, who's gone missing. He didn't want to inform the police..."

"Yes, I know all that," snapped Farnham.

Jeff took a deep breath, "Clive was in year eight, here?"

"Yes, that's right."

Jeff nodded, and took a notebook out of his pocket, "Can you tell us what happened the last day he was here? Do you know when he went missing?"

"Well, we first discovered he was missing when Hawkins, the Worthingtons' driver came into the office to locate him. Hawkins normally collects Master Worthington outside the school, but he never came out. We made enquires of our own, searched the grounds, and discovered Clive had never reported to art period at the end of the day."

"I see," said Jeff, "And where was he before art period?"

"In Colin Smith's history classroom."

"Right, okay, Headmaster. And when did art period start?"

"It was Clive's last class of the day, so two o'clock."

"And the art teacher is?" Asked Jeannie.

"Williams, George Williams."

"Right, thank you, Headmaster," said Jeff, "Is there anything else you can tell us? Any problems Clive was having at school, problems at home? Did he get in fights with any of the boys at school?"

"Fights, Mister Randall? No, Clive was a good student. Not brilliant, but a good student."

"Any other problems, then?" asked Jeff.

"Anything that might make him decide to run away?" put in Jeannie.

"No," Headmaster Farnham, said sharply, then added, "No, there was nothing, but he's hardly likely to tell me, is he Mister Randall? Clive Worthington was more nervous about appearing before me in this office than you are."

Jeff jumped at that, and Jeannie smiled, then hid her mouth with her hand.

"Yah, sorry, it's been a long time since I've been to school, headmaster. We'd like to talk to Mr. Smith and Mr. Williams, if that's all right?"

"I thought you would, Mr. Randall," said Farnham, Mr. Smith has a free hour starting in a few minutes. Then you can speak with Mr. Williams after lunch."

"Right, thank you, Headmaster," said Jeff.

"There's a staff room on the third floor, south wing. Go on along there, and Colin should be along at any time. I'll have my secretary ring him so he knows to meet you."

"Thanks, again, sir," said Jeff, standing up and offering his hand.

"No problem, Randall, no problem, I hope you find the Worthington boy."

"Thank you for speaking with us," offered Jeannie, holding out her hand.

Farnham rose and shook hands with them both and then showed them out of the office, "Just up the stairs, turn right and follow the corridor to the south wing, once you reach that, it's the first door on the left," Farnham lead them through the outer office, and pointed to the wide staircase to the right of the outer office.


The two detectives left Farnham's office and walked through the outer office to the school's main hall, just as they started up the wide hardwood stairs, Marty appeared next to Jeff.

"Just a minute," said Jeff to both Jeannie and Marty.

"What, Jeff?" said Jeannie.

"Uh, Jeannie, I need to use the gents a minute, I'll meet you in the staff room, all right?"

"Sure, Jeff," said Jeannie, then she turned and started up the stairs. Jeff and Marty watched her leave, then Jeff turned and walked down the hall to a secluded corner, "Marty?"

"Sorry, Jeff, I was trying to get Wyvern to talk to me about Jeannie... he knows sommat, but he won't tell me. Be extra careful of her, would you?"

"I am, Marty, I tried to get her to stay in the office, but she wouldn't have it."

Marty nodded, "I'm not surprised."

"Marty, can you look around the school? Try to find out what's happening here? This school has an, atmosphere, it bothers me. See what you can find out?"

"Sure, Jeff, and..."

"I know, I know, look after Jeannie for you... Marty?" Jeff looked at him.

Marty looked at him, matching his tone, "Jeff!"

"I will, Marty, you know I will."

Marty disappeared, Jeff slipped into the staff gents and used the facilities, then returned to the stairs and walked up three flights, he reached the top and walked down the corridor, finally finding the staff room. Jeannie stood there, talking with a young man, Jeff assumed was the teacher they'd been sent to interview.

"Jeff, there you are, finally!" said Jeannie, as Jeff entered the staff room, shutting the door behind himself.

"Sorry, Jeannie, I didn't mean to be so long."

"That's all right, Jeff, you haven't missed much. This is Colin Smith, one of Clive Worthington's teachers."

Colin Smith was a young man in his late twenties, with dark brown hair, and green eyes, hidden behind gold-metal framed glasses.

"Hello Mr. Smith, I'm Jeff Randall," he said, introducing himself and sticking out his hand.

"Mr. Randall," said Mr. Smith, grasping his hand and shaking it with a firm grip, "Miss Hurst has already explained you're looking into the Worthington boy's disappearance."

"Yes, that's right, I understand he was in your classroom?" Asked Jeff.

"Yes, he's a good student, Mr. Randall, he never got into any trouble."

"We're not suggesting he did, but he has disappeared," said Jeff.

"Did you notice anything before he disappeared, Mr. Smith, was he acting strangely? Any problems with other students or at home? Any reason why he might run away?" asked Jeannie.

Smith faltered, then said, "No."

Jeff picked-up on the faltering, "Are you sure? Look, Mr. Smith, Clive's father hired us, but if Clive had reason to run, our duty is to him, over his father. We want to find him and make sure he's all right."

"Well..."

"Come on, Mister Smith," added Jeannie, placing a hand on his arm, "Anything you tell us is confidential, we're not here to cause the school problems. We only want to help Clive."

"I'm not sure, you understand, year eight boys can be a handful. But he seemed quieter, withdrawn, the weeks before he disappeared. I... I thought about talking to him about it, but I have a total of 123 students, twenty-five students in Clive's class alone, and... And to be frank, I didn't get 'round to speaking with Clive," Mr. Smith looked distressed, "I know his parents, and I don't think it was a problem at home. But if it was at the school... I didn't see anything that suggested something was wrong. He was just... quiet."

"And a quiet boy is easy to handle, isn't he?" said Jeff, harshly.

"Jeff!" said Jeannie, sharply, "I apologise for my partner, Mr. Smith, So you're saying that you didn't realise there might have been a problem until after he disappeared?"

"That's right, Miss Hurst," answered Smith.

Jeff took a deep breath, then said, "I'm sorry, sir. Do you... did you, do you think he was being bullied, or harassed by other students, then?"

"Mr. Randall! This isn't some ancient prep school! We have very strong anti-bullying regulations, and mandatory training for all students. No, Clive Worthington was not being bullied."

Jeff nodded, "Well, then, what do you think was going on?"

Smith sighed and turned away, his shoulders slumping, he turned back and said, "I don't know, I don't know. I've been asking myself the same questions since he disappeared. I'm a good teacher, Mr. Randall, and this is a good school. I don't know what happened."

Jeff nodded, "I'm sorry I was a bit rude, Mr. Smith, it's just... the disappearance of a young boy, it's a difficult case to investigate, that's all. Look, if you think of anything, even something you think isn't important or doesn't matter, give us a ring, all right?" Jeff took out his business card, and handed it to the teacher.

Smith took the card, glanced at it, and slipped it into his pocket, "I hope you find him, Mr. Randall."

"So do we, Mr. Smith," Jeff answered, then turned towards the door, "C'mon, Jeannie."


The two detectives left the staff room and made their way down the stairs to the ground floor and into the canteen.

"Jeff, what is wrong with you?" asked Jeannie, as she sat down at the small formica table.

"And what do you mean by that?" snapped Jeff, as he sat across the table from her.

"You are never rude to someone we're interviewing, not like that, what is wrong with you?"

"Nothing, Jeannie, I'm fine," Jeff answered. He looked away, then turned his attention back to her and added, "It's this case... we're looking for a young boy, Jeannie!"

"I know that, Jeff. His father thinks he was kidnapped, so? Jeff, I'm getting concerned, first the way you reacted when you saw that photograph, now you're jumping down the throat of people we interview. What are you on about?"

"You know, Jeannie..." he said, jumping as Marty appeared at his side.

"I don't, Jeff," Jeannie said, frustrated.

Jeff looked at her, confused, "Jeannie, I know Marty told you about it."

Jeannie looked at him, comprehension slowing dawning, "You don't mean because of what happened to Marty when you both were teenagers, do you Jeff?"

Jeff looked at Marty with a painful expression in his eyes, then closed his eyes and didn't answer.

"Jeff, you don't know what's happened to Clive. Everyone we've talked to so far, seems forthright, there's no reason to suspect that someone is, or did, hurt Clive Worthington. Not like that."

"But he is missing, Jeannie. And this is raising all sorts of ghosts for me," he glanced at Marty and said, "I can't stop thinking about it, Jeannie, I can't stop remembering what Marty was like when..." he trailed off.

Marty looked at Jeff, "Jeff... don't... it wasn't your fault, you saved me, Jeff, please don't... don't get lost in the past, not now, there's a thirteen-year-old boy out there someplace that needs you."

Jeannie reached across the table, and took Jeff's hand, "Jeff, you need to concentrate on this case. We need to sort out what happened to Clive Worthington. There hasn't been any signs of violence, Jeff."

"I know, I know, I just... I can't help this feeling that we are running out of time. That Clive Worthington is running out of time. If it was a money-grab, they would have asked for ransom by now. So either it was a grab, and something went wrong, or it's something else. And something else, scares me, Jeannie. It scares me, because I know how truly awful something else can be; I've seen it."

Marty began to pace, "Jeff you need to talk to this 'art teacher' he's anything but forthright. And stop thinking about the past."

"Jeff, don't borrow trouble, we need to investigate step by step, we should talk to the art teacher, and try to find this 'Mark Daley' that Sir Worthington mentioned," said Jeannie.

Jeff said, "No, you are right, Jeannie, you are absolutely right. I'm sorry, I'm... this case has me a little stroppy, I'm afraid."

Jeannie stood, then put a hand on Jeff's shoulder, lightly, "We'll find him, Jeff."

Jeff stood, "I hope so, Jeannie, I hope so."

"Didn't Headmaster Farnham say we could see the art teacher after lunch?" asked Jeannie.

"I think we should look in on him now, see how he relates to his students," replied Jeff.

Marty nodded, "That's it, Jeff, come and watch this Williams. I wouldn't trust him as far as I could throw him," he paused to think a minute, "As far as I could throw him when I was alive, that is."

Jeff nodded at Marty in acknowledgement, "Let's go, Jeannie."


Jeff and Jeannie walked up the main staircase of the school to the third floor, then looked for Worthington's classroom, classes had already begun, so the hallways were quiet. As Jeff and Jeannie turned and started walking down the hall to Mr. Williams' classroom, Jeff became acutely aware of the clicking of Jeannie's heels on the hard floor in the hall, Jeff put a hand on her arm, and she stopped.

"What, Jeff?"

"It's too loud, Jeannie, your heels are too loud."

"Well, we're not exactly sneaking around the school, Jeff. We have permission to be here."

"I know, I know, just trust me Jeannie, I want to try something. Why don't you walk past the classroom and all the way to the end of the hall, open that other door down there, then slip off your shoes and come back, all right?"

Jeannie looked at him, "Jeff, that is silly!"

"Come on, do it Jeannie, please?"

Jeannie looked at him again, "All right, but Jeff..." she stopped, changing her mind, "All right."

Jeff walked with Jeannie as far as Williams' classroom, then stopped at the door, whilst Jeannie continued on to the end of the hall. When she opened the door, Jeff carefully looked through the glass window set in the door to the classroom. Inside, Williams was walking around the room, standing behind students, looking over them to study the paintings that each student was working on. Jeff watched for a minute, and saw Williams casually touching several of the male students in the class, but none of the female ones. As Jeff watched, he thought something was strange about Williams' behavior. Then Jeannie returned to his side, leaning on him as she slipped her shoes back on her feet.

"Now, just what did that accomplish, Jeff?"

"I'm not sure, but there is something going on, Jeannie. I know it."

Jeff knocked on the classroom door, then opened it and entered.

"Hey, who are you? You're not supposed to be here."

"We have permission from the Headmaster," Jeff said, "We're investigating the disappearance of Clive Worthington," Jeff carefully looked at the faces of the students in the classroom as he mentioned Clive's name. Several of the students showed some reaction, though it was so brief Jeff found he couldn't suss what those reactions meant.

"And I will speak to you after luncheon, not during my classtime. Now leave, you're disturbing the students."

Jeff glared at Williams, "Right. Well, we'll see you soon, then," he turned to Jeannie, "Come on, Jeannie."

The two left the classroom, and walked down the hall. A few paces from the classroom, the two stopped. Jeff leaned back against the hallway wall, and put his hands over his face, in a gesture of exhaustion.

Jeannie put a hand on his arm, and Jeff jumped, then relaxed, taking his hands away from his face, "Jeff, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, Jeannie," Jeff said automatically.

Jeannie looked at him, "I know you better than that, Jeff, come on, you can tell me what's wrong."

Jeff took a deep breath, then said, "I don't know, all right? But there is definitely something not right about that teacher. The way he... the way he was so close to those students, I mean, physically close, to the boys, and some of them looked..." Jeff trailed off.

Jeannie looked at Jeff in shock, "I didn't see anything."

Jeff turned, and started walking down the hall, Jeannie followed him, "Jeff? Jeff?"

Jeff stopped again, "No, you're right, Jeannie, forget it."

Jeannie glared at him, "Jeff, come on, you can tell me what is it that's bothering you?"

Jeff looked at her, "No, no I can't, Jeannie. But I don't trust that teacher, and there is something going on here. Just trust me that far. We need to keep investigating."

"Fine, Jeff. And of course we'll keep looking, investigating," she smiled at him.

Jeff smiled back, then the two walked down the staircase again heading back to the canteen.


Jeff stopped, in the midst of walking down the hallway to the canteen, then put a hand on Jeannie's arm, "Jeannie, I can't."

"Can't what, Jeff?"

"I can't interview that George Williams! Go and wait in the canteen, and talk to him, Jeannie. Find out if he knows anything about Clive. Ask him about Mark Daley. And if you can, ask him why he's so bloody close to his male students, all right?"

Jeannie stared at Jeff, "Jeff? I don't understand."

Jeff groaned and moved his hands over his head, "Do it, Jeannie. Take this interview for me. I'm going to see if I can speak to any of the students, maybe I can even find Mark, but..." Jeff looked about the empty school hall, closed his eyes, then opened them and looked at Jeannie, "I don't trust him, Jeannie, so be careful, all right?"

Jeannie looked at Jeff, confused, "All right, Jeff, I'll take the interview for you," she put a hand on Jeff's arm, "Jeff, you're the one who's suspicious of him, are you sure you don't want to speak to him?"

A look of genuine fear crossed Jeff's face, "I can't, Jeannie. Look, you... you wouldn't understand, you can't understand, but... It would be better if I spoke to some of the students, all right, Jeannie? Please?"

Jeannie looked at him, "All right, all right Jeff. I'll take the interview. And I... I do trust you, Jeff, I know you have, feelings, about this case. I do. But... Jeff , have you ever thought..." Jeannie stopped, "Never mind, I'm sorry. Go, speak to the students, go on."

Jeff nodded, then watched Jeannie walk off. As she left the hall for the canteen, Marty appeared.

Jeff yelped.

"Jeff, what's wrong?" asked Marty, as he moved to Jeff's side.

"Nothing, Marty, I'm fine," Jeff answered automatically.

Marty looked at him critically, "You don't look fine. Jeff, come on, tell me."

"Listen, can you stay with Jeannie? Watch her interview Williams? I mean, we're both going to be on school grounds, and I know you can't go too far from me, but it shouldn't be too far for you to go."

Marty nodded at Jeff, "Yah, all right, Jeff, I'll stay with Jeannie. If anything goes wrong, I'll let you know."

"Thanks!" Jeff turned and started to walk down the hall.

Marty quickly moved towards Jeff and stopped right in front of him, "Jeff, what's wrong?"

"I told you, it's nothing."

"It doesn't seem to be nothing, Jeff."

"I'm suspicious, all right? That Williams... he bothers me, Marty. You said yourself that he's 'anything but forthright', and I think you're right. Something is definitely wrong."

"I know, I know I did, Jeff, but..." Marty looked at him, critically, "Never mind, Jeff, no, you go ahead and speak with the students, I'll stay with Jeannie."

Jeff nodded and smiled softly, "Thanks, Marty!" Then he turned and walked down the hall.

Marty shook his head, watching Jeff, then disappeared.


A few seconds after Marty left him the school bell rang and the hall was flooded with students. Jeff allowed the tide of adolescents to push him along, when suddenly he felt a pull on his arm. Jeff turned and faced a young boy with hazel eyes, light brown hair, and nearly as tall as himself.

"Are you the one that's looking for Clive?" asked the boy.

"Yes," said Jeff, nodding his head, "Do you know something about what happened? Who are you?"

The boy looked frightened, but nodded.

"Listen, Clive's father hired me, but I'm working for Clive, do you understand? I want to find him and make sure he's all right."

The boy nodded again.

Jeff looked around frantically, and saw a door a few feet to his right. He pulled the boy with him, and opened the door. Inside was the school's library. The room was quiet and deserted. Jeff shut the hall door. "Do you have something to tell me?"

"Is that true, what you said, you're working for Clive? You want to help him?"

Jeff nodded vigorously, "Yes, I do."

The boy looked at Jeff, and sized him up, "I'm Mark, Mark Daley."

Jeff looked at the boy, "Everyone's been looking for you!"

"I've been here. Going to my classes."

Jeff nodded, "All right, all right. What happened on Monday?"

"We skipped. Clive didn't want to go to Williams' class, and I know what he's like, so... I have a free hour at the end of the day on Monday, so we decided during lunch that we would skip our last class of the day," he paused, "Well, Clive's last class, I didn't have one so..."

"Can you tell me exactly what happened?"

"I met him after his history class, and then we walked out of the school. Together. We walked down the street, there's a CD store over on the High Street so we headed that way."

"You headed that way? You never got there?"

"There was a car."

"A car?"

"A man jumped out of the car, grabbed Clive, threw him into the car and then took off."

"And you never told anyone?"

"I...I tried to...but..."

Jeff nodded sympathetically, then said, "But they didn't believe you?"

"No."

"What do you remember about the car?"

"It was big, and black. Four doors. A sunroof."

"Do you remember the number plate?"

"No, I didn't get a good look. The man, he, he pushed me to the side and only took Clive."

"What did he look like?"

"He was old, with grey and black hair, and a pudgy face. He was, um, he wasn't that tall but he was taller than you."

Jeff looked at the boy, "Okay, Mark, is there anything else you remember? Anything at all?"

The boy looked at Jeff and hesitated, then said, "No."

"Are you sure?"

Mark looked up and down at Jeff, then said, "Um, no. Are you really a detective?"

Jeff looked at the boy, surprised, "Yes, I'm really a detective. Why?"

"You don't look like the detectives on telly."

Jeff smiled, "Well, I'm a bit different than the detectives on telly. Now, is there anything else you remember, anything at all?"

"No. Do you think you can find him?"

"I hope so, I do. Mark, I need to ask you a couple more questions. Was Clive in any trouble? Was someone hurting him or threatening to hurt him at home or at school?"

Mark looked down at the floor and then said, "I need to leave, I'm going to be late for class."

Jeff looked at Mark, then said, "You can tell me if someone was threatening him, Mark. I'll believe you. Was it Professor Williams?"

A look of fear crossed Mark's face, "I really need to leave, I don't want to be late," Mark backed away, heading for the door to the hall.

"Mark, it's okay, you can tell me, honestly!" Jeff shouted.

But Mark was already leaving. Jeff followed him to the door, but Mark had disappeared down the hall.

TO BE CONTINUED