A MONUMENTAL MYSTERY
by Carycomic
Synopsis: Stonehenge has been robbed! A prequel to the Highlander crossover fanfic "There Should Only Be One (Version of Halloween)". Based on the 1982 horror film HALLOWEEN III: SEASON OF THE WITCH.
RESURRECTION CEMETARY,
CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, USA
(OCTOBER 15, 1982)
They met by the grave of Jules D. Grandin. Three beautiful women in black leather jackets with matching slacks and boots. And one man in a Navy-blue suit, beneath a khaki trench coat, carrying a beige folder. He then looked around them before opening the folder and passing around a photographic blow-up of a relatively young woman with red wavy hair and sunglasses standing in line someplace while wearing a gray rain coat.
"Who's this?" asked Katherine Del Greco (nee Kassia of Samothrace).
"Meet Ruby McCracken," replied Special Agent Matthew McCormick of the FBI. "Officially, a free-lance travel writer. But, appearing on our watch list, for the last ten years, as an artifact smuggler. She first came to our attention when we busted a neo-Nazi sympathizer and fund-raiser who had just returned from a vacation in Argentina along with a bunch of occult relics purportedly once owned by Hitler, himself! He named her as his supplier. But, there was never enough proof against her to justify an arrest warrant. So, the Bureau just bided its time. . .until now!"
"Where was this photograph taken?" asked Cassandra Crescent Moon (last of the White Howlers).
"At Heathrow Airport while she was waiting for an outbound flight. The day _after_ that menhir mysteriously disappeared!"
"But, even if your suspicions of her are correct," exclaimed Ceirdwyn of Brigantia, ". . .how could she possibly steal a multi-ton piece of rock, let alone, smuggle it out of England, completely undetected?!"
"It had to have been some kind of wizarding spell," replied Cassandra. "Either teleportation or a very potent shrinking potion."
"A shrinking potion?!" echoed Kate, in disbelief.
"Don't scoff! The alchemists of old forgot more than any Nobel Prize-winning chemist will ever rediscover."
"I'm leaving that for you three to find out for sure," replied McCormick. "All flights out of Heathrow, including McCracken's flight, were delayed forty-eight hours during the initial flap surrounding discovery of the menhir's disappearance. That means her flight to San Francisco, via Chicago, will be landing at O'Hare in a couple of hours. With all three of you already booked as local passengers!"
Ceirdwyn could not resist a wry smirk: "You're too good to us, my former pupil."
The special agent looked at his three fellow Immortals. . . and grinned shamelessly.
"Do this one last favor for me and we're eternally square."
"We'll hold you to that!" they chorused in perfect unison.
Three hours later, Flight 957 took off from O'Hare International Airport on the last leg of journey to California's legendary City by the Bay. Among those who were new faces, to the passengers from London, was a trio of beautiful women whose black leather jackets announced them as a singing group (complete with a silver sequined treble clef) headed for an audition on the West Coast.
"Heh!" snorted Cassandra. " 'Harley's Angels.' I hope we don't get sued for plagiarism by John Forsyth."
"Speak for yourself," replied Ceirdwyn. "I'd love to meet him! I loved that show he did in the mid-Sixties. The one where he played an Air Force officer who inherits an all-girls' boarding school?"
"Oh, right!" exclaimed Kate. "That's the one that went from fish-out-of-water sitcom to half-serious spy spoof with the school becoming a front for undercover espionage!"
Ceirdwyn nodded. "I often wonder if Major John Foster was the model for Charlie Townsend."
Kate's smile became a half-frown. "I wonder if even Charlie Townsend would be able to figure out how that menhir was stolen from Stonehenge?"
"If I can sneak into McCracken's hotel room, in lupine form," replied Cassandra. ". . .I might be able to sniff up some clues proving my theory."
Kate's grin returned. "Now you sound more like Perry Mason."
After that, they talked a little more loudly about much more mundane matters. Right up until the final approach to their landing at San Francisco International Airport. Twenty-five minutes after that landing, they were reclaiming that luggage. Following which, they headed for the nearest car rental desk. Making sure they got in the exact same line as Ruby McCracken. When the latter had reached the front of the line, and finished applying for a Volkswagen Beetle, she asked the rental clerk how far it was to a town called Santa Mira.
"It's about a three-hour drive, ma'am. Due north to Santa Rosa, then head northwest, via California 128 and US 101."
"Thank you."
When it became Harley's Angels' turn, they asked for a Chevrolet Greenbrier minivan, followed by directions to the Mark Hopkins Hotel. When the clerk had complied with both requests, they departed the airport as well. Although, not in the direction of the hotel.
While Kate operated the steering wheel, as she was the only one of the trio with a driver's license, Ceirdwyn opened a brochure she had taken from a travelers' aid booth and read aloud concerning Santa Mira.
"Hmmm! Small town in Mendocino County. Population: 2,020. Most notable for being the corporate headquarters of Silver Shamrock Novelties. A manufacturer of mechanical amusements founded by naturalized Irish immigrant Conal Cochran, who's recently branched out into latex Halloween masks."
This naturally puzzled Kate. "Why would an artifact smuggler be headed for a town like that?"
"I don't know," admitted Cassandra. "But it gives me a bad feeling."
By this point, the sunset had long since set, necessitating the activation of the van's headlights. So, when they finally reached the exit to Santa Mira, they took it. Eventually finding their way to the Rose of Shannon Motel. And, as this was mid-October, the parking lot was naturally not that packed.
Thereby allowing them to locate their quarry's vehicle.
"There!" exclaimed Cassandra, pointing at the blue VW. "In front of Room 7."
Ceirdwyn grinned. "Score one for Garou night vision."
Kate parked the Chevy two spaces down before switching off the engine and turning to her fellow Immortals.
"All right. You two start unloading our luggage while I sign us in at the front desk. Then, when we're all settled in our room, we'll contact McCormick on that glorified walkie-talkie he gave us."
She was facetiously referring to the Motorola Dynamac cordless telephone that he had given them after driving them to the relevant departure terminal at O'Hare International Airport. The other two Immortals nodded in agreement. So, Kate went inside and rang the old-fashioned hand bell on the front desk. The elderly man who came out of the office greeted in her what Kate considered an almost -stereotypical caricature of an Irish brogue.
"Top of the evening to you, Miss. How may I be of service?"
"A room for the night, please. Party of three."
"Three of you, you say!"
Kate smiled and nodded. "We're a singing group on our way up to Portland, Oregon, for the annual Halloween Spook Show at the Avalon Theater."
The old man grinned in return. "Ah, yes! I remember attending one of those as a boy. Grand time, I had! 'Tis a pity the tradition slipped away. This country would be in a far less sad state, these days, if every town with a movie theater still maintained that custom."
Kate shrugged with what she hoped was authentic-looking regret. "The price of progress, I guess."
The old man then handed her a ballpoint pen on a chain so she could write down all three of their (currently assumed) names. As she did so, Kate made sure to take a surreptitious look at the name written above theirs. The party who had been given Room 7 had registered as 'Tina Pritchard'.
And, at that very moment, the latter was using the bedside telephone in Room 7 to call Silver Shamrock Novelties.
"I'd like to speak to Mr. Cochran, please. Ruby McCracken calling."
Her call was immediately accepted.
"Miss McCracken! I've been awaiting your arrival, most anxiously. My people are almost out of the stone slivers you previously supplied us."
"Rest assured, sir. You'll have more than enough for the remainder of your deliveries."
"Good! Because, in the words of today's commercial update, there are only sixteen more days till Halloween. When can we meet for the final exchange?"
"Would tonight be too soon?"
"Well, it's five of eight, now, so curfew is in effect. But, I can arrange for two of my security staff to pick you up, thereby insuring safe conduct to and from the factory."
"How soon can they be here?"
"Expect them within the next ten minutes."
"Fair enough."
Cochran was as good as his word. A gray Buick with two blond-haired men in sky-blue suits and wearing black leather gloves pulled up in front of Room 7, nine minutes later. The one in the right front passenger seat got out and walked up to the motel room door, knocking on it in the usual cadence (usually attributed to a song called 'Shave and a Haircut; Two Bits'). When McCracken opened the door, the security man gave a courtly bow before politely identifying himself and gesturing to the car. Whereupon, the redheaded beauty closed the door and followed her escort to the right rear passenger door.
Kate watched them depart through the closed curtains of Room 8. Then, she turned to the now-naked Cassandra.
"Okay, they just left. Make with the shape change."
In less time than it takes to tell, Cassandra had once more assumed the lupine form once referred to as 'The White Wolf of Donan Woods'. Whereupon, Ceirdwyn shut off the overhead light. Temporarily putting their room in darkness, before opening the door to let the Immortal wizardess gallop out in pursuit of the gray Buick.
While Kate had been signing their names in the guest book at the front desk, Cassandra had used a water glass from the top drawer of their Room 8's night stand to enhance her lycanthropic hearing. Pressing it to the wall parallel to the right hand-side of Room 7. By this means, she overheard Ruby McCracken's telephonic conversation while Ceirdwyn was trying-but-failing to get through to Agent McCormick on the Dynamac 8000. So, when Kate rejoined them, they took turns filling her in on the unexpected developments.
"What do you think we should do?" Ceirdwyn asked after the summarizing was over.
"I'll follow them in lupine form," Cassandra decided. "You two follow me in McCracken's car. Using this!"
Kate looked at the Y-shaped object in disbelief. "A slingshot with the rubber band missing?!"
Ceirdwyn grinned. "No, silly! It's a miniature divining rod. . . attuned to her."
Cassandra nodded and smiled. "Just for that, you get to hold it while Kate does the driving. Assuming, of course, she can hotwire that blue Bug!"
Kate smirked. "Let's put it this way. In between semesters as a pre-med undergrad, I spent two weeks, every summer, working as a WAC motot pool mechanic for the Illinois National Guard."
"Whoa!" exclaimed the Brigantian Celt. "Just when I thought I'd heard everything."
Consequently, within two minutes after Cassandra snuck out of their motel room, Ceirdwyn and Kate followed suit. Five minutes after that, the gray Buick transporting Ruby McCracken reached the loading docks behind the main factory plant of Silver Shamrock Novelties. Waiting there was the black Cadillac limousine of the company's founder, Conal Cochran, himself. It was not until the bodyguard in the right front passenger seat had emerged, to open the right rear passenger door for his employer, that his counterpart in the gray Buick did the same for their passenger.
"Good evening, my dear. It's so nice to see you, again! If a trifle embarrassing."
"Embarrassing, Mr. Cochran?"
"Well, one would reasonably expect a nine months' supply of stone slivers to be enough for what we intend. But, when the demand increases in proportion to the popularity of the merchandise, beyond initial expectations. . ."
"I quite understand. But, at the risk of sounding impatient, may I see the money, please?"
"Of course."
Cochran snapped his fingers and the chauffeur emerged from the left hand-side of the limo with a black briefcase. He flipped open the two latches and showed the artifact smuggler the large multitude of rubber-banded hundred-dollar bills inside. Following which, he reclosed and relatched the lid.
"Now, if I could similarly examine the merchandise. Just to psychometrically ensure that I'm not getting some scale-model replica made in Japan."
"But, of course."
She placed a bluish-gray rectangular object in the palm of his right hand. Whereupon, he clenched that hand into a fist and closed his eyes. The frown-like expression on his face indicating a strong measure of concentration. A moment or two later, though, his eyes flew back open. His eyebrows arching so that they almost resembled a McDonald's sign with hair!
"Extraordinary! How did you ever. . .?"
"A shrinking potion made primarily from the venom of the Lilliputian sting ray. Then, super-charged with lightning from a wand with a thunderbird tail feather core."
"Ingenious. And how do I counteract the shrinkage?"
The blue-eyed redhead carefully removed the aforementioned wand from the left side pocket of her rain coat. While simultaneously using her right hand to withdraw a small square of white cardboard from her blouse's left lapel pocket.
"Simply recite the three words on the back of this business card while waving the wand. I include both of them as free bonuses in exchange for the final payment."
Cochran's eyebrows arched, again.
"Really, my dear! Such generosity goes above and beyond the call of professional courtesy. However, my dear departed mother taught me that it doesn't pay to argue with a determined woman. So, I shall accept your gift with only token protest."
Whereupon, he snapped his fingers, again. The chauffeur handing over the briefcase full of money at the same time the bodyguard accepted the wand and the business card. The other two security men then ushered the artifact smuggler back into the rear seat of the Buick. Unfortunately, the return trip to the motel was suddenly interrupted by the activation of two high-beam headlights. Instantly prompting the driver of the Buick to slam on the brakes!
The latter turned to look at his companion who just as promptly nodded. . .before exiting the car to walk over to the driver-side of the blue Beetle. Yet, just as he reached the left fender, the frontward facing trunk of the Volkswagen suddenly flew open! With Ceirdwyn springing up out of it, the spare tire raised up over her head like some kind of sports trophy.
The security man turned, although not soon enough. The spare tire came down around his upper arms, pinning them to his sides just long enough for Kate to come leaping out from the left rear passenger seat. A jack handle tightly clutched in both hands. That is; till she brought it down against the right side of the security man's head. To her shock, however, the man did not go down!
Instead, his head began twitching rather uncontrollably. . .while a yellowish-white substance began oozing from the head wound.
This sight naturally transfixed the two Immortals. So that they did not know the other security man had exited the driver-side of the Buick until the moment they heard a loud growl from behind them. Whereupon, they turned as one and beheld Cassandra in her Krinos form standing over a headless corpse. Electric sparks emitting from the stump of the neck.
At that same moment, the convulsing security man trapped in the spare tire flexed his muscles. Breaking the tire in half as if it were made of tissue paper! He then lunged for Kate who was so astounded that it was if she was paralyzed. Thereby allowing the security man to latch on to her throat with both hands. She tried her best to break his death grip upon her, but it was no use. Ceirdwyn could see that, as well. Which is why she withdrew the World War I-era sword bayonet that she had had modified (in Toledo, Spain) into a replica of her old Celtic short sword. The razor-sharp edge of which she cleaved through each of the security man's hands at the wrist. She then did the same thing above his shoulders. Thereby resulting in some paralyzing astonishment of her own.
For electric sparks began erupting out of his now-headless body like lava from a volcano.
"They're robots!" she exclaimed.
"I believe the currently popular slang term. . . is 'androids,' " corrected Kate in an understandably hoarse voice.
"What is going on at that factory?" muttered the baffled Brigantian.
"Why don't we ask her?" replied Cassandra, as she slowly trod over to the Buick, still in Krinos form.
But, if she had hoped to intimidate the artifact smuggler by dramatically tearing one of the rear passenger doors off of its hinges, then she was doomed to be disappointed. For the former beat her to it.
"Care to tell us what's going on, Ms. Pritchard?" snarled the Immortal wizardess. "Or would you prefer 'Ms. McCracken' ?"
"Neither, actually," replied the redhead. "My true name. . .is Wachilt Ex-Merinita. Dracoteuthis!"
Now it was Cassandra's turn to be stupefied with amazement. For not only did their intended prisoner burst out of her clothes as she became giant-sized. She also transformed into what resembled nothing less than a hybrid of wyvern and kraken!
"Merlin's Beard! She's a dark animagus!"
"A half-mermaid nephandus of House Melusine, to be precise," chortled the now-verdant villainess as her dragon-like wings bore her aloft. "And, at nine o'clock, Eastern Standard Time, sixteen days from now, the muggle travesty known as Halloween will be no more!"
"What are you talking about?" demanded Ceirdwyn.
"What's Cochran going to do with that stolen menhir?" added Cassandra.
"That you'll never know, White Howler."
Whereupon, Wachilt dove toward the gray Buick. Using one of her serpent-like tentacles to snatch up the brief case full of money from the back seat. While simultaneously using three others to ensnare each of the female Immortals! and bear them upwards, too!
"I hope you enjoy night flights, ladies. Because the next stop for the three of you is San Francisco Bay. More specifically? The shark-infested waters surrounding Alcatraz Island!"
"We'll see about that," muttered Cassandra.
The last White Howler was still in Krinos form. But, Wachilt had neglected to wrap a tentacle around her jaws. Consequently, she bit down on the tentacle holding her tightly about the waist!
"ARRRRRGH!" screamed the giant half-mermaid. A scream that only intensified as Kate and Ceirdwyn now followed suit. Using their respective swords to impale each of the tentacles holding them. Unfortunately, they were now fifty feet off the ground and climbing. That meant, all three of them would hit the ground very hard. Perhaps hard enough to temporarily break every bone in their bodies! Which, in turn, would leave them vulnerable to having their heads pulled from their bodies before they could revive and regenerate.
Something happened, however. The strangest happening of that particular night. Although, there had not been a single drop of rain to indicate a coming storm, there still came a blinding flash of lightning followed by a deafening clap of thunder! When the three female Immortals could see again, they looked around them. Each understandably puzzled. That is until they recognized John Garrick. An Immortal who had spent almost the last three centuries traveling the world in order to study the mysteries of the human mind. Culminating with extensive training in the mystical arts with the chronomancing Sahajiya of India.
Matthew McCormick had gotten him together with the three female Immortals so that they could literally meditate on how Stonehenge had been robbed of the menhir popularly known as "The Blue Stone." And, more importantly, by whom and for what reason. This group meditation had subsequently been conducted in a religious hermitage known only as 'The Sanctuary'. With the three women conducting the virtual investigation while Garrick provided the psychic anchor. And, watching all four from the side lines, McCormick had gotten very nervous at the rapid eye movement they had begun displaying with increasing frequency over the last three days. Finally, he could no longer stand it!
When Cassandra, Kate, and Ceirdwyn had begun yelling excitedly in their meditative trances, he used that as the pretext to awaken Garrick and, thereby, the three other Immortals as well.
"How- - -long?" rasped Kate.
"It's October 17. Less than two weeks to Halloween! What did you see while you were under?"
"Your culprit is a nephandic meleusine who uses the fae-based Hermetic wizardry of House Merinita to steal and smuggle artifacts," replied Cassandra. "The more occult, the better! She usually goes by the alias Ruby McCracken. But, her true name is Wachilt. And, in this case, her client is a shady millionaire toymaker named Conal Cochran, based in Santa Mira, California."
"Why would he want a Celtic menhir smuggled to a hick town in northern California?" McCormick muttered aloud mostly to himself.
Ceirdwyn shrugged. "I can't say for sure. But I think he might be trying to turn back the clock on Halloween. Forcibly return it to the more gruesome aspects of its Celtic roots!"
MCCormick nodded. "Then, from this point on, we obviously have to divide and conquer. You three will rest up, then go on the hunt for Ms. Whatchamacallit. Meanwhile, I'll send a couple undercovers to snoop around Santa Mira."
Whereupon, he whipped out his Motorola Dynamac 8000 and pressed out a certain seven digit-sequence. He paused a moment, then decisively identified himself.
"This is McCormick. Put me through to Agent Grimbridge."
THE END?
Author's Afterword
So ends my lengthiest Halloween one-shot, yet. I don't even know if poor Ord will be able to post it before November 1, at the earliest! But, either way, I wish all of you who read it. . .HAPPY HALLOWEEN!
I really shouldn't have to add that I own none of the recognizable characters and/or concepts.
Menhir – a tall upright stone of a kind erected in prehistoric times in western Europe.