Any Port in a Storm

Detective Pam Murray tilted her head slightly. Then with an intense stare looked at her own bright blue eyes reflecting back in the blotchy mottled mirror. She had to chuckle; a colleague had badly taped a string of old green weathered tinsel around the frame. It was at least a nod to the season. She took a deep breath as she started to aggressively brush her long blond hair. She was standing in the small gray painted, far too small to be functional ladies changing room at the station. Pam was just about on time to go on shift. She hated night shifts in December, every night was party night. What made it especially worse was the weather forecast was not looking good, as well as dealing with the loud boisterous drunken men and shrieking women, she had to fake Christmas cheer and that was just to her male colleagues.

With her hair done and the brush securely back in her bag, knocking her cheeky, but needed, cigarette pack to the side slightly. Then she tugged and pulled her blue shirt over her large cupped underwired almost industrial black bra. It served a purpose, tonight it did not need to be sexy. Her panties were red and covered in sequins, but no one got to see them. That was just for her. However, she wished it was not the case. As she hadn't shaved her legs for a while, she was grateful for small mercies. Deeply breathing to stay calm then focused on doing the small fiddly white buttons up. It always took a little bit of concentration, before she put on the clip-on regulation black tie. With a deep breath she used her long fingers and firmly tucked everything in. The black belt around her waist was holding everything tightly in place. Pam looked at her face once more, nodded and smiled at herself. She was tired, her bags under her eyes were deeper than usual. Her crow's feet were growing. Getting scared that they might start to grow legs. With a deep reluctant breath and using the black elasticated hairband around her wrist to tie her hair up into a tight ponytail, keeping it out of her face and neck. With another check in the mirror, she was almost ready for work.

Pam practically jumped out of her skin as there was a loud bang that echoed in the empty room. It was a fist on the closed metallic door.

"Hey Murray, I'm guessing you are in there, there is a new job, just perfect for you!" The voice of her superior sergeant Glen Hicks boomed through, as his fist, again, thumped loudly against the closed door.

"On my way!" She replied as she pushed her fingers into the hem once more, making sure that she had tucked her shirt into her regulation dark blue trousers and that nothing would escape. Looking down she tutted, then grunted as she knelt down, did her shoelaces back up and looked at her bag and smiled before retrieving her Marlboro Lights cigarette pack sliding it into her pocket, then on standing up, with one final glance back to the mirror and a straighten of her tie between the collar of her shirt with a preparation of deep breath she headed out the door.

"What's the deal?" she asked as she fell in step with Glen as they walked back towards his office.

"There is a perfect investigation for you."

"Oh, why?"

"As it's nearly Christmas, it is bar based."

"What?" Her heart fluttered.

"We've been informed that women visiting O'Reilly's bar are going missing." Hicks chuckled to himself. "Their bit on the side has clearly claimed them as a present." He chuckled again. "Murray, you like cruising the pubs?"

Pam scowled back, "Ha bloody ha, it was only a few drinks the other weekend?"

Hicks rolled his eyes and continued chuckling, "Yes, so I heard, every weekend dancing all night on the tables again, did you manage to keep your clothes on?"

"Err, yes. Mostly. It was a good night". She beamed her wicked almost flirtatious smile as the memories circulated.

Hicks shook his head dismissively. "Anyway, I thought you would like this job..." he stopped as he still chortled to himself.

"I love drinking in O'Reilly's but haven't been, like, for a while!"

"It's for work Murray, not pleasure!"

Pam rolled her eyes as she grinned, "I know, so, is it kidnapping?"

Hicks shrugged his shoulders in an exaggerated way. "We don't know at the moment. This is now a second report of someone visiting the bar, one Trisha McFarlane, thirty-five-year-old woman. She has not come home to her husband for a whole twenty-four hours now."

"A repeat offender, kidnap, or murder?"

"Good question, potentially both, no sign of a body. We need you and Detective McQueen to head down there and investigate."

"Who are we looking for again?"

"Trisha McFarlane, a florist by trade. Here is her Facebook profile."

Pam rubbed her hands together in anticipation and grinned and stared intently at the phone screen before grinning. "Oh, she is pretty, and I do like flowers, also talking of pretty, I didn't know Nelly was on tonight."

Hicks momentarily raised a confused eyebrow... "Yeah, she is. Catch up with her, she is bound to be in the canteen or knowing her, near the chocolate vending machine, when alone she never gets that far from it. Once you have found her get down to O'Reilly's".

"Will do, out of interest, when was the first report of someone going missing?"

"A month ago, we just assumed she had gotten drunk, and stumbled into a gutter somewhere, but as of yet no body has been found. We have never opened a murder investigation. They have stayed as a missing person."

Pam sucked in some air thoughtfully tapping her fingers on her hips as they stopped walking outside his office. She smiled and nodded at him "McQueen and I will solve this, Hicks."

"Great. Remember you are at the bar for work.

"Yes boss!" She saluted as she grinned. "I only drink after hours."

"Exactly what I thought!" He smiled in agreement. Then he realized the time and was about to say something, then stopped.

***

"Hello?" Trisha called out, her voice disappearing into the darkness as she slowly looked around the room. There were glistening slivers of white light shining through the wooden slatted walls. It was highlighting the dust hanging and spinning in the still air. She called out again, her voice echoing around her. "Is there anyone here?" She shouted. The silence that shouted back was deafening. The thoughts of it all send a shiver down her spine. Looking around trying to get her bearings in the blackness. With deep breath and a sigh, she fought the trepidation as she carefully got up. The toilet seat behind her was gone. She wrapped her arms around her body. Trisha was standing there completely naked. She shivered again. Confusion reigned across her face. Her clothes had also disappeared. She couldn't remember undressing. She had only a couple of drinks. Breathing hard as she looked behind her. The bathroom had completely vanished. Replaced by complete emptiness.

What seemed only a few minutes ago that she was in the bar having a drink or two, hiding from her over-excited children. The school seemed to wind them up like a coiled spring. There was also a stressed husband. Sitting and just chatting with the regulars was far more pleasurable. There had been a plan, once home, to wrap presents tonight. But she had, with the finishing of the second glass of wine, ruled that one out. She had popped off the stool, gone to the bathroom, and had shut the toilet cubicle for a quick pee. When she dropped her dress back into position and had reached for the flush, as she pulled the handle, everything went dark and silent. She had closed and reopened her eyes several times in disbelief. Within seconds the bathroom had disappeared, along with her shoes and clothes.

She found herself sitting back down on some sort of prickly wooden tea chest of a box, rather than a smooth plastic toilet seat.

She gulped. The air was thick with the smell of fortified wine. It was at the same time both suffocating and rather nice. The sound around her was tinny. The feeling was extremely claustrophobic.

***

"Nelly, have you ever been to O'Reilly's on a night out?" Pam asked whilst keeping her eyes focused on the road ahead.

"Nope, wrong end of town for me, I always thought it was a little seedy?" Nelly McQueen replied before licking her lips and taking another bite on her mini-Mars bar. She had brought with her a large Christmas chocolate selection box and was rather quickly working her way through the contents on her lap, chewing on them loudly. The crunching of the spent wrappers was equally loud. Before brushing the caramel and chocolate crumbs off her shirt that had landed on her bulging breasts and rolled on to her equally large belly as the streetlights zipped past.

"It's not seedy, maybe a little freaky in places, but really great fun."

"Wow, so why have I never gone?"

"No idea, it's famous for it apparently. My mates all rave about it. The atmosphere on a Friday and Saturday night is amazing."

"Really?"

"Yup, I've had...some... well, I mean either way all we've got to do is just to remember not to drink booze on duty!"

"That's easy." Nelly chuckled, before chewing on the latest chocolate.

***

Trisha was breathing hard, as she slowly made her way around the room, putting one hand in front of the other, hoping to eventually find an exit. Relief washed over her after what felt like hours of slowly moving along the splinter covered walls and finding a door handle. She pulled at it, and nothing happened. With a grunt she twisted the brass knob and pushed the stiff wooden door. With a creak of the hinges, it flung open. She blinked hard at the brightness contrasting with the dark space she was in. The sky above her was shining gray with occasional flashes of lights, there was a muffled noise of chatter surrounding them. She was positive she could still hear the sound of Pogue's ringing out. Or it could be Wham.

Looking around it dawned on her that she was on a large boat. Yet there was no wind to fill the flimsy cotton sails draping down high above her head. The air was warm, and with the stench of fermented alcohol, almost sickly. It felt incredibly dense and stale. It was as if she was trapped. Trapped, naked and standing on an old boat. There was no sensation that the ship was not moving; she was definitely not at sea, nor was she in harbor. Yet there was a constant hum that could have almost been the engine or if she closed her eyes and listened, definitely Christmas music.

***

Nelly followed Pam as she led their way through the front door of the darkly lit bar and the throngs of people. As they spotted the uniform, the crowds parted like the waves creating a free route up to the old wood lined bar. There was sailing paraphernalia all over the walls. Ropes tied in hundreds of different knots, there were two oars strapped to the ceiling along with what seemed like thousands of pictures of framed boats scattered along the walls.

"Evening officers, how can we help you?" The buxom brunette barmaid asked. Standing there in her tight-fitting top and jeans in front of a selection of optics, which further above them was a large collection of varying sized ships in bottles all back lit up, slightly brightening the dark gloom of the bar area.

"We are just following up on the disappearance of Trisha McFarlane?" Pam responded shouting over the music from the jukebox whilst looking as stern as she could. Someone turned the music down. There was at least some rest bite.

"Oh, yes, yesterday, that was a strange evening. She was standing there one moment, we assume went to the toilet, and never came back, she completely vanished. We all wondered if you guys would turn up."

"We are here now! What is your view on it?"

"To be honest, I have no idea." She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head and started focusing on wiping a glass with a towel before standing on tiptoes. Her top and jeans yawning apart flashing her large red opal that decorated her pierced bulged belly button as she stretched putting the glass back in the rack above her head. Before looking back at the officers and adjusting her clothing once again. "She was here at the bar, and we assumed she had gone to the toilet, and she never came back."

The two officers looked at each other, their faces openly questioning the story and then looked back at the barmaid.

"Who reported her missing?" Pam asked.

"Her husband."

"How?"

"She comes in here regularly for a drink or two on her way home from work whilst he does the childcare and cooks tea. He was the one that came to look for her. Complaining that their dinner was burnt. It was busy last night, we honestly just thought she had gone home already."

"He cooks?"

"Yeah,"

"Lucky her!" Pam nodded and smiled in appreciation.

Chapter 2

Trisha gingerly walked along the deck with trepidation. Thoroughly annoyed that she was not wearing any shoes. She paused, blinking hard at the contrast in the light. Once she could see, she started to look around the deck. It was clearly deserted. Being very aware of her nakedness she wrapped her arms protectively across her bare chest. She looked around just hoping there was something she could put on. A sack, a bag, anything. There was literally nothing. The deck was completely empty. She explored further with hesitation, carefully focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. Listening hoping to hear salvation. She could hear her heart thumping in her head. Desperate for something to make sense of.

It was as if she had landed on Marie Celeste. There was no one around. The ship was very quiet and clearly deserted. There was a background hum in the air, a continuous noise. There was that feeling of emptiness in front of her. She rounded a corner and finally heard a moan, a solitary moan that sounded like a human.

Now nerves of a different worry took over. A few paces on she looked down and with surprise just ahead of her going from the side of the deck she saw wet footprints a few meters in front of her. The way they went along on the deck it looked as if someone had just finished swimming. There was a large puddle on the floor, followed by footprints. Relief washed over her. She finally now knew she was not alone. Trisha quickened her pace and practically trotted along the deck and a little further forward she paused as she crouched down to investigate the wet footprints, puzzled as to where they were going.

Looking up a little way down the deck she soon found her answer.

"Hic." Then a loud groan. A burp, then hiccup reverberated the space. She looked up and biting her bottom lip looked around her. She stood up and slowly and hesitantly followed the sound.

Trisha tentatively stepped forwards before she paused "Hello?" Her voice sounded pathetic, in the almost airless atmosphere. The air was very stale, and reeked of wine, or even potentially port.

"Hic."

There was someone else there, she could definitely hear hiccups even within the dense air. "Hello?" She again called out, then placing one arm firmly across her bare chest and the other hand protectively over her crotch as she looked across the deck of what was clearly an old-fashioned sailing boat. There leaning against the tall wooden mast drinking from an equally wooden cup, was another woman. She was a blonde chubby looking lady, and her modesty was barely protected by a bit of white cloth sail loosely wrapped around her body.

"Are you okay?"

"Hic." The woman's head surrounded by a mop of uncared for hair briefly looked up before it slumped back down. The weight of her head being too heavy for her neck. The cloth further slid down her body revealing her large breasts. She was leaning against the wooden mast propped up by an equally wooden barrel. Her hairy legs were spread wide supporting her weight against the mast. She then moaned and chuckled drunkenly to herself.

"I'm Trisha?" She introduced herself as she looked on inquisitively, wracking her brains trying to determine what was going on.

The other woman nodded and then rolled her head with confusion.

"What's your name?"

"Clairsh," the woman slurred. Tugging at the sail which failed to rise up and cover her.

Trisha took a deep breath and stood there trying to work out what she had said, eventually it clicked. "Claire, oh my god, I was in the bar the same night. You disappeared a month ago?"

The extremely drunk woman struggled to shrug her shoulders and then slowly nodded back.

"We all assumed you had gone for a ciggy and run away."

"Hic." She looked at her and smiled at the thought of a cigarette, then frowned in annoyance as there was clearly none to be had as she shook her head.

***

"So, we understand the same thing happened to Claire Underwood?" Nelly asked the bar girl.

"Yeah, went to the toilets and never came back, vanished. She was also a regular, loved a few drinks before going home. So, it was not as if she was bunking paying for the drinks. Her bag with her purse, still with money and her all-important ciggies were left on the floor next to the toilet."

"I guess you've checked the room for a secret door or something?"

"Oh yeah, several times. Almost now a joke, we go into the ladies and bang on everything and if someone is with you, everyone." She grinned. "There is nothing obvious."

"We will check as well. Windows?"

The barmaid chuckled and rolled her eyes and briefly flicked them at Nelly before looking back at Pam. "Trust me I don't think either woman would fit through that small window."

"Oh."

Nelly breathed in a little and was particularly quiet at that moment.

***

"Where are we?"

Claire chuckled as she grabbed her sail dress and shuffled her weight further upright. "Wese still in the pub still!" Her hand wavered towards the side of the boat. Trisha's head followed the unsteady wavering finger to see the blurred horizon beyond the deck, with flashing Christmas lights that lined the bar, with shadowy blobs moving around the other side of the glass. It was evident the sound of the sea was the muffled murmur of the chatter of people in the pub.

"Are we..." Trisha gulped then stuttered, "On...on...on a ship in a bottle?"

Claire's loose drunk head in a circular motion, nodded. "Yeah."

"Fuck. How do we get out?"

Claire shrugged her shoulders and unsteadily brought her mug to her lips and loudly slurped. "I haven't. Yet." She then burped.

***

"Can I offer either of you a drink?"

"Yes, definitely, but on this occasion cokes only!" Pam instantly said, smiling with authority whilst her eyes scanned the liquor bottles behind the bar, she could not help but lick her lips. Her eyes focused on the Grey Goose vodka. Oh, to be outside with a cigarette lit in glorious sunshine downing those.

"Can I have some crisps?" Nelly asked, snapping her attention back to beside her as she stretched her neck to look over the bar at the selection. "Cheese and Onion, please."

"Of course, no problem, ice and a slice in the drinks?" The barmaid grinned.

Both police officers looked at each other and then to the barmaid and nodded, "When in Rome, go on. We must be allowed to do that." Pam mused, "We might as well have a drink as we will need to spend some time looking around to see if we can find any ideas. As we can't have women randomly disappearing."

"I totally agree!" Nelly smiled.

Pam took her drink and sucked and slurped the drink and rubbed her lips together as she nodded. "You know what, Nell, sorry, but I think it's being in a pub, hold this, it's a habit, I can't help it. I will pop out for a quick ciggy and be right back."

Nelly rolled her eyes, put the drinks down on the bar and then jumped slightly in surprise as with a loud pop she opened her crisps. Thinking she might as well do something useful whilst waiting.