I sighed and said, “Way to cheer me up, Gil.”
“Are you still moping about the trip?” he asked.
“Doc’s going to think I’ve abandoned him,” I said moodily.
Hearing his name, my bird gave a loud wolf whistle from his play stand in the corner and said, “Nice bum! Where you from?”
“He’ll be fine,” Gilley insisted. “Plus, look what came from FedEx!” I noticed then that Gil was holding a CD in his hand.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“Location footage,” Gil said. “Remember when you insisted on approving each location before we committed?”
“Yes, and I thought I already approved all of them,” I said, distinctly remembering the three hours Gil, Heath, and I had spent viewing each location that’d been chosen by the production company to film episodes of Ghoul Getters.
Gilley nodded enthusiastically as he came around my desk, propped open my laptop, and slid in the CD. “Gopher called me yesterday,” he explained, referring to our producer/director. “He found a new spot that he thinks we should film at first. He said the location team that scouted it is still freaked out about what they saw, and he says we can’t pass it up. It’s the scariest place on earth!”
“Great sales pitch,” I grumbled, still pouting about having to leave home for so long.
Gilley ignored me and hit Play. My computer screen filled with the image of a drizzly gray landscape. Old-looking brick buildings lined a narrow cobbled street as rain dripped off thatched roofs and collected in puddles.
Someone off camera began speaking in a lovely Scottish brogue. “Before us is the infamous Blair Street, the most haunted lane in all of Europe and maybe even the world. And below our feet are the world-renowned caverns where countless thousands lost their lives to the Black Death, starvation, fire, and murder. Pain lines this street and seeps up from deep underground. Here, the earth is so thick with it that nary a beast will tread these cobbled stones. No bird, stray cat, or dog will venture here. Only humans are fool enough to walk these cobbled stones.”
I wanted to roll my eyes at the theatrics, but before I even had a chance, a man appeared on screen holding a cute, cuddly black puppy that was shivering in the rain. The man, dressed in a long black raincoat with a black bowler, wore something of a wicked grin that I immediately didn’t like. “What’s he doing?” I whispered as the guy came forward and held up the puppy to the camera so that we could get a better view of the adorable face.
“Aw, it’s a pug,” Gil said. “M.J., you love pugs!”
Gil was right. I did love puggies, but something told me that this guy was up to something, so I didn’t reply with more than a nod. And sure enough, in the next instant the man set the little pup down on the ground, securing a leash to his collar before he announced, “I’ve selected this adorable puppy from the local shelter to demonstrate what happens when any animal finds itself on Blair Street.”
And with that the man turned and began to trot on the cobbled stones, leading the puppy behind him. At first the pug was all too willing to follow, but then, about ten yards into their walk, the puppy stopped abruptly and tried to sit down. The man looked behind him, smiled, then stared into the camera. “They all attempt to resist in exactly the same spot every time,” he said.
I hoped it would end there, but it didn’t. The man pulled cruelly on the leash, dragging the puppy along as it began to squirm in earnest, and the farther the man tugged it down the street, the more terrified the puppy became. Its eyes bulged wide and it began to bite at the leash and growl and whimper and snarl. Five more feet had it resembling some sort of rabid animal—it was so terrified that it was nearly unrecognizable as the same dog who’d been held up to the camera only moments before.
“That son of a bitch!” I roared as I stared in horror at the computer screen. I could feel my hands curl into fists, and I wanted nothing more than to reach into that image and punch the guy in the nose. But he managed to anger me even further when he picked up the wriggling, squirming, snarling puppy and held it suspended for a moment while the camera moved in for a close-up.
Gilley and I sat there in stunned silence; I couldn’t believe the cameraman was cooperating with this clear-cut case of animal cruelty! A moment later the man began to walk slowly back toward the camera, and the second he got to within about five feet of the cameraman, the puppy suddenly calmed down and settled for just dangling in the mans hands, shivering pitifully from nose to tail.
I closed the computer screen and rounded on my partner. “Get Gopher on the phone,” I roared. “Now!”
Gilley was already dialing, and after three rings we were rewarded with Gopher’s enthusiastic, “Hi, Gilley! Did you get the CD?”
“What the hell was that?” I yelled, not even bothering to announce that I was in the room with Gilley.
There was a pause, then, “Hi, M.J.”
“Don’t you ‘hi’ me, Gopher! How could you let them do that to an innocent puppy?”
“It wasn’t my idea,” he began, but I wasn’t interested in his excuses.
“Of all the stunts you’ve pulled, Gopher, this has to be the lowest, most underhanded, most ridiculous . . .” My voice trailed off and I got up from my desk to pace the room. “You’re lucky I don’t quit over this. Do you hear me?”
For a long moment Gopher said nothing, which was probably wise, and I knew that he was likely waiting for me to calm down long enough to hear him out. Finally Gilley said, “You didn’t have to use the dog to get us to agree to the location shoot, Gopher.”
We heard Gopher sigh; then he said, “You’re right. But I swear to you, it wasn’t our idea. I sent Kim and John over there to do some more scouting because I wasn’t really excited about our first pick. They found a few spots that were just okay, but when they got to Edinburgh, Scotland, they called to tell me they’d hit the jackpot.
“I guess the guy you saw on the footage is some local who does these ghost tours, and he picks up a new dog or cat every week from the pound to demonstrate what happens when you try and walk an animal down Blair Street. From there he took John and Kim down into the tunnels and caverns right below the street, and the footage gets even freakier. Did you guys happen to see that footage?”
“No,” I snapped, still angry about the pug. “And I’m not planning on watching it, Gopher. That was just sick. Do you hear me? Sick!”
There was another long pause, and another sigh from Gopher before he said, “Okay. I understand, M.J. We’ll stick to the original plan and fly you guys into Yorkshire.”
That got my attention. “No,” I said firmly. “Now that I know what’s happening there, we’re absolutely doing Edinburgh first.”
“We are?” said Gil and Gopher together.
I nodded. “Definitely.”
“Fantastic!” said Gopher, and he began to say something else but I cut him off.
“We’ll go to Edinburgh on one condition,” I said.
“And that is that you call ahead to find out where that puppy is and if he’s okay.”
“Er . . .” said Gopher.
“Further, that you let that tour guide know that I want a meeting with him specifically.”
“Ummm,” said Gopher. “M.J.?”
“What?” I snapped, reading his tone.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Positive,” I said. “Get me that meeting, Gopher.”
“Okay,” he agreed. “I’ll do that, but watch the rest of the footage, okay? There was some really amazing and creepy stuff happening belowground that I know Kim and John are still really freaked-out about. It’ll help prepare you for the shoot.”
“When was the footage taken?” I asked, still worried over the trauma the puppy had experienced.
“This past weekend,” said Gopher.
I didn’t reply, and Gilley took the lead. “Sure thing, Gopher. See you tomorrow at the airport.”
After Gilley had hung up I hit the Eject button on
my computer and handed him the CD. “Burn this,” I ordered.
“To another CD?” he asked.
I smiled. Only to a computer geek would the words “burn this,” not include the thought of fire. “No, honey,” I said. “Destroy it. Make it into barbecued brisket or chop up it into a million pieces. I never want to see it again.”
“But Gopher said to watch the footage,” Gil whined, refusing to take the CD from me.
I scowled at him and walked around to my shredding machine, where I fed it into the grinder. It made the most satisfying noise as it was gobbled up. “I guess we’ll have to go in blind.”
Gilley looked at me skeptically. “I never like it when you say that.”
I smiled. “Come on, honey. Let’s go pack.”
Victoria Laurie, Ghouls Just Haunt to Have Fun
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