Chapter 5

"Death in Brigadoon"

Before I continue this story, I call this part of the story "Death in Brigadoon" not just because the peaceful town in Scotland that was about to be thrust into the spotlight, but because Brigadoon was a town that would reappear every 100 years. However, in this case, Brigadoon was represented by the souls of all those on board Clipper Maid of the Seas who would disappear and never return.

By the time the night was over, 11 more souls would join them.

As for Lockerbie itself, it's a town on the border between England and Scotland that would otherwise not be all that known as that small market town that was tightly knit, strongly connected and had a decency for both Pokemon and the trainers that cared for them. One of the residents of this town that would be affected by this tragedy was an elderly farmer who lived his whole life in Lockerbie.

This farmer, named Jones, had spent the night of December 21st visiting his neighborhood tavern, drinking and celebrating the arrival of the Christmas holidays. Still, he always made sure to care for the mixture of Pokemon and farm animals that were in his care. By 7:00pm, Farmer Jones had already made his rounds and was now preparing to settle down and watch Christmas programming.

"Ach, what a day," he said as he removed his farmer boots. "I don't know how long I can keep doing this."

Farmer Jones' Growlithe came into the bedroom and the elderly farmer patted him on the head.

"At least I got you to help me, Growlie," he chuckled. "Whose a good laddie? Whose a good laddie?"

Walking to the bedroom, Jones looked towards the town of Lockerbie, seemingly quiet and serene.

"Someday, Growlie," he said. "We'll be retired, we'll have our investments and not have any problems at all."

Draping the blinds, Jones was just about to leave his bedroom to prepare his dinner when all of a sudden…

"What was that?" he cried as he felt his house shake. "Growlie, it's an earthquake!"

Growlithe suddenly ran out of the bedroom and down the stairs as the house continued to shake. Suddenly, they both heard the sounds of an explosion loud enough to be heard from the farm, causing objects and pictures to fall from their places. The blast nearly knocked Farmer Jones down the stairs, but he held on and as quickly as it began, it stopped.

"Growlie, you all right, laddie?" he gasped, ensuring his fire dog Pokemon was okay. Then, he heard a noise that he would never forget.

THUMP! THUNK!

"What in the name of…?"

Fearful, Jones grabbed his coat and went outside only to be greeted by a site that he would never forget.

Right there, on his doorstep, was the body of a young man, lying face down.

"Mother of mercy," Jones whispered, doing a sign of the cross on the body. Then he looked and saw more of the debris…a blue seat cushion by the barn and then next to it, an oxygen mask. Dashing back into the house, Jones grabbed his phone and attempted to call into it.

"Hello? Hello?!" he cried in a panicked voice. "Hello?! Constable?!"

But the lines were dead. He could get no answer.

At that moment, Jones heard a knocking on the door and turned to find one of his Farmer friends in the doorway.

"Jones!" cried a Scottish farmer in his late 60's. "Jones, are you all right?"

"Frederick, what's happening?" Jones asked, running over to him. "Did you hear the explosions?"

"Yeah, I did. The town's on fire! There are bodies everywhere."

It became clear to both farmers that this was no ordinary accident, something was off. A few moments later, the sounds of sirens were heard out in the distance. Then, they both saw the body of the dead young man on Jones' doorstep.

"Any bodies on your farm?"

But, Frederick could speak his confession. To Jones, he knew that bodies were found on his friend's farm. Without any second thoughts, both Jones and Frederick ran towards a red farmer's truck and quickly jumped in as Growlithe jumped in the back.

Speeding off, the car dashed towards the center of Lockerbie and as they drove along, the fires grew larger and larger as they got closer.

Then, as they also got closer, there was more sights to behold…dead Pokemon lying along the roads. Next to the Pokemon was another body, identified by a red jacket.

"Jones, wait!" cried Frederick as the elderly farmer went to investigate, the body revealed to be that of a young boy. Growlithe then got out of the back of the truck and picked up a scent from down the road. "What is he sensing?"

Jones walked further and further down the road and then, he saw a Christmas present, partially torn open and a toy firetruck partially exposed.

Then came an airplane cabin door, carrying the white and blue colors of a jetliner. Jones then suddenly looked down and saw what appeared to be an airline ticket.

"Frederick, come look at this!" Jones cried, picking up the airline ticket off the ground. "Look."

He handed his friend the ticket with the Pan Am logo and a picture of a 747 flying. Opening it up, both farmers read the ticket as belonging to Pan Am Flight 103 from London/Heathrow to New York/JFK.

"Mother of God," whispered Frederick. "This was a Pan Am jet that crashed."

Both farmers could only absorb the horror that Pan Am Flight 103 had fallen from the sky and smashed into Lockerbie, Scotland.

Meanwhile, Tim and Lucy had done their shopping and both Tim and I, along with Pikachu, had already closed up for the night. Another sleep till Christmas or so we thought.

At around 2:45 on the morning of December 22nd, I heard my phone ringing and I begrudgingly woke myself up to answer it.

"Hello?" I answered. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Harry, it's Yoshida," cried my lieutenant on the other line. "I know it's late, but it's happened."

"What's happened?" I asked.

"Turn the news on if you can, a Pan Am jet went missing over Scotland."

Suddenly, I felt my instincts kicked in and I dashed down the stairs to my living room to turn on what was happening.

"Reports are coming in now that a Pan American jumbo jet with 250 people on board has crashed 15 miles north of the Scottish Border," explained a broadcaster from the BBC as pictures of buildings burning and the sounds of sirens coming from emergency vehicles were blaring. "The jumbo has been identified as Flight number 1-0-3. It had left London/Heathrow at 6:25 tonight bound for John F. Kennedy Airport in New York. There are also believed to be a number of US Servicemen and 25 students from the Pokemon League Academy in Israel who had joined the flight from Frankfurt on board."

"Looks like it didn't go missing, Loo," I said in a hushed voice in order to not wake up Tim and Pikachu. "It went down over Scotland."

"Yeah, I just got off the phone with the US Embassy in Tokyo. 25 Pokemon League Academy students were on board the plane."

Almost immediately, my detective instincts kicked in.

"Listen, Loo, where are you?" I asked.

"I'm heading into the office," he replied. "I'm calling from my car phone."

"I'll meet you there," I answered hastily, quickly hanging up and throwing on some clothes before racing over to the office. In the rush, I didn't wake Tim up, but he would know in due time that a Pan Am 747 carrying Pokemon League students had gone down. So, I left him a small note on the refrigerator telling him and Pikachu what had happened and that I would be back in a few hours.

But we would both know soon enough that the investigation of Pan Am Flight 103 had begun…