Ghostfinders 02 - Ghost of a Smile

mini-van as a nearly van. Only the extensive corrosion is holding the bodywork together, and the engine makes more noise than a banshee with bleeding haemorrhoids. The van’s about as much use as . . . a thing that’s no damned use at all. Oh God, I’m so tired I can’t even manage a decent metaphor. I hate long train journeys and I hate car rentals. I swear the Institute goes out of its way to choose something desperate they know will put my back out. Just once, couldn’t we have a nice stretch limo? With a chauffeur, and a built-in bar?”
    “Dream on,” JC said kindly. “Such vehicles tend to attract attention.”
    “It’s budget-review time, that’s what it is,” said Melody. “We’re not even allowed to travel first class on the train any more. I’m going to complain to the union.”
    “We’re not in a union,” said JC, staring thoughtfully at the factory.
    “I can’t believe I volunteered for this job,” said Melody.
    JC produced a local tourist guide from a jacket pocket with a grand flourish and flipped it open to a relevant page. “Hush, children, and pay attention. Here is useful knowledge, for those who have the wisdom to consult it. The strikingly ugly structure before us was once the pride and joy of Winter Industries. Very successful, from the fifties on into the eighties, at which point all the wheels came off the economy, and a great many once-solid industries hit the dirt. The factory shut its doors for the very last time in 1983, and the whole work-force was made redundant. Thousands of men and women, all laid off in an afternoon. The local economy never really recovered.”
    “What did they do here?” said Melody, practical as always. “What did the factory make?”
    “Apparently, machine parts for other factories,” said JC. “And when the orders dried up, the jobs disappeared. Lot of that about, in the eighties.”
    “Maggie bloody Thatcher,” growled Happy. “When that woman is dead, I will piss on her grave. I don’t care how long I have to queue.”
    “Get to the local legends,” Melody said to JC. “You know you’re dying to get to the local legends.”
    “Yeah,” said Happy. “All the weird shit that no-one believes but everyone talks about.”
    “Know thine enemy,” murmured JC. He flipped through the pages. “Ah yes, here we are. Ghosts, strange animal sightings, UFOs, and Men In Black, all the usual . . . Ah! This is more like it. There are local legends of Big Black Dogges, going back centuries, chasing people down deserted lanes, hunting people at night. And that’s Dogges spelled the demon way, in case you wondered.”
    “Big?” sad Happy. “How big?”
    “Says here, twice the size of a man,” JC said cheerfully. “Always black, appearing and disappearing, and some of them have no head. Definitely not your average Rottweiler.”
    Happy sniggered suddenly. “No head? How do they smell?”
    “Don’t even go there,” said Melody. “Exactly how dangerous are these Dogges, JC?”
    “Reading between the lines, very,” said JC. “A lot of local disappearances have been put down to the Dogges, down the years. Apparently it’s bad luck even to see one. There’s also mention of big cats, attacking sheep at night.”
    “Cats and dogs? Wonderful,” said Happy. “Maybe we can set them on each other.”
    “Enough talk; time for action!” said JC. He tossed the guide-book carelessly over his shoulder and strode determinedly towards the open doors to the factory. “Time to stare Evil in the face and pull its nose! Give me danger and excitement, Lord, that I might smite the ungodly and send them crying home to their mothers!”
    “There’s something seriously wrong with you, JC,” said Happy, trudging sullenly after him.
    “And don’t anybody feel they have to help me shift all this equipment!” said Melody, bringing up the rear with her weighed-down trolley.
    “It’s good healthy exercise,” Happy said callously. “And you know you don’t like us touching your stuff.”
    “That’s because you always break it!” snapped Melody. “You could break an anvil just by looking at it.”
    Happy smirked. “It’s a gift.”
    “I’m glad you didn’t pay for it,” said Melody.
    “Children, children,” murmured JC. “If we could please all concentrate on the very dangerous and possibly horribly haunted deserted factory before us . . .”
    Melody snorted loudly and made a point of striding ahead of JC and Happy, hauling her