“I’ve noticed a lot of advertising for psychic fairs and other occult events recently. People are searching, trying to find comfort or escape from this crazy world. But we understand that don’t we, Cath?”
“We do.” Catherine’s finger tapped away on her tablet. “Found the article. Let me see if I can find any references to Wiccan.”
The barge ploughed towards the island, passing several small uninhabited islands surrounded by mangrove swamps. The barge moved closer to the land as it made its turn towards the larger island and the rotten-egg scent from the mangroves assaulted Jack’s senses. He shuddered at the thought of the buried girl, and the dampness and smell of the soil she battled against.
“They say Wicca is a word used to ‘pretty up’ the negativity associated with witchcraft. It’s a religion that worships nature and creation.” Catherine said. “And freemasons apparently accept the teachings of Wicca. Their belief of god is reasonably fluid.”
“Is that why the Christians oppose freemasonry?” Jack asked.
“I suppose so. Christians teach God is the only god, pretty much the opposite of what freemasons believe. The freemasons refer to god as the Great Architect.” Catherine skimmed through the article on her table.
“I suppose he is when you look around at nature—He did a pretty good job.”
“True. You know, the sad thing is that many believe these occult activities are harmless and fun. I’m sure our friend who was nearly buried alive would think differently now,” Catherine said.
13 – Local constabulary
THE FERRY TERMINAL CAME INTO VIEW, and Jack saw the ramp where the barge would dock on the foreshore next to the terminal. He hoped any large marine creatures departed before the barge crushed them as it landed. All this Wiccan talk made him too sensitive to nature.
“I can see how Wicca could seem harmless—all worshipping nature and creation. But it also attracts those who seek to exploit others.” One thing worried Jack. “Religious groups have a habit of attracting people who may not be of sound mind—to put it mildly.”
The island was close now. The front tray of the barge grated with the concrete ramp that vanished into the blue water. Time to go downstairs and disembark.
“Wiccan works to a theme, a philosophy, Jack.”
Jack placed his hands on the stair rails to support his steep descent down to the lower deck. “What is it?”
“If it doesn’t harm anyone, do what you please.”
“Well, so much for their philosophy. They just tried to kill someone.”
Jack climbed in to the rear of the Toyota Land Cruiser with Catherine. The forensic officers occupied the front seats. The driver turned. “You two locked in? The roads are pretty rough over here.”
“He’s a cheeky one, Jack,” Catherine said.
Jack gave a soft smile. His mind was on a girl in a box and worms.
<°)))><
Jack saw the island’s police station up ahead. It was a small building with a flagpole, the familiar blue and white sign, and a patch of green grass to greet visitors. Their Toyota Land Cruiser pulled into a driveway on the side of the building. Doors opened and Jack and his troops entered the building through a side entrance.
An officer in an inky blue uniform greeted them. He looked tired and had probably been up all night. The station only had two rotating officers, so they would be doing double shifts with this incident.
“Hi, I’m Detective Sergeant Jack Kinnaird, and this is my partner, Detective Catherine York.” Jack waved his hand towards the other team members. “And these folk are the forensic team.”
“Hello to you all. I’m Sergeant Phil Jones.”
Everyone shook hands before the sergeant ushered them into a small meeting room. The room’s furnishings included a narrow table with six metallic chairs and a potted plant, badly in need of water, nestled in the corner. A large map of the island hung on the wall.
The sergeant placed a tablet device on the table and browsed the content. “Well, let me reiterate the events so far. At approximately 0030 hours, the station’s other officer, Senior Constable Cusack, noticed activity in parkland near the island’s estuary while on routine patrol. On investigating, he found two persons digging in the ground with their hands. They advised Senior Constable Cusack they believed a person was buried there. Erring on the side of caution, Cusack retrieved an appropriate digging tool and assisted.”
The sergeant paused and cleared his throat.
“On realising that indeed a body was buried, the local ambulance was called and I was also called. I arrived at the scene not long after. The victim was in a mild state of shock but the ambulance officers attended to her. It was decided she didn’t need to be hospitalised—that would’ve involved a water ambulance or helicopter. We put her up in a lodge and had a local doctor watch over her. The victim was groggy and a bit out of it, so we’re not sure of where she was staying or who she was with. She had no phone on her.”
“Strange that she had no phone,” Catherine said.
“Yes, but we understand there was some kind of ritual taking place and would imagine that phones would be banned from such things,” the sergeant said.
“Are witchcraft type rituals a common thing on the island, Phil?” Jack asked.
“They are, but normally harmless. I sat in my vehicle once and watched one. They dance in a circle and disperse not long after. Some wear hooded outfits, some don’t. They market the events as a celebration with earth and nature. They usually occur at the time of the full moon.” The sergeant paused and looked around the room. “I think society views on witchcraft have mellowed over the years.”
“That may change once this gets out to the media.” Catherine said.
“You may be right there, Cath. But best we get as much of this investigation out of the way as possible before the media onslaught starts,” Jack said.
“This weekend was a special one tied in with the blue moon celebration. There are lots of visitors to the island. Lots of houses on the island are second homes or holiday homes, so many are vacant most of the year and are rented out,” the sergeant said.
“Does the moon go blue?” Catherine asked.
One of the forensic team answered. “Not really. It refers to the second full moon in a month. You know the phrase—something rare, like once in a blue moon.”
Catherine raised her eyebrows and nodded.
Sergeant Phil continued. “The event on the island this weekend was referred to as the Blue Moon Festival.”
“Appropriate title. Anything else?” asked Jack.
